23 days later
By the way - daydreams count too. There are no actual dreams in "Hushabye Prince" but there will be daydreams.
On the other hand, there are going to be a lot more actual dreams in book two of "Damsel in the Red Dress" so that'll be fun. One particularly nice metaphor of a tree with flaming flowers.
But here's another dream:
Once during the early days of the mental breakdown, I dreamt that the masterpieces on my walls were starting to cry. Collecting large drops of condensation or morning dew, rivers of red and blue made their way hastily down the painted faces, blurring their visages into muddy amalgams of ugly passion, and unsightly collapse. They contorted into the most unnatural expressions of grief, like “The Scream,” but more hollow. “The Heartbreak,” “The Drama Queen.” “The Empty.” “Abyss.”
I watched as each face gradually made its way through the noxious metamorphosis, from the pretty strangers in their brilliant pastels to me, in that stupid red dress, weeping.
I hurried down the stairs then - or it felt like hurrying. Being poured down the brief incline in a torrent of anxiety, like a brittle mortal lifeboat, barely avoiding being capsized on its way down a waterfall. I found the paintings suspended as I left them when my perfectionist's brain let me deem them complete, wearing the right faces, but growing moist from the humidity - the canvas damp and pliable, the paper impossibly fragile. I crouched in the darkness by the easel and cried with them.
That’s when I woke up, staring at the wall, at the “Orange Tinted Maiden,” in all her excruciating glory.
I have two specific dream sequences that I really found fun to right! Getting to play with scenery and ignoring certain 'laws of reality' can be so beautiful (or terrifying LOL)
Chapter 1 - Conri, after lying to his therapist, finds himself stranded in snow. A metaphor to his upcoming predicament
Chapter 11 - A nightmare of past trauma and memories that sends Conri off over the deep end (Mentions of SA)
Yeah, dream can definitely be really pretty or spooky. Mine aren't usually that scary in the story, but they do have some unnerving imagery
17 days later
I have another dream sequence coming up in next week's chapter of "Damsel in the Red Dress" but it's much different from the previous dreams, mostly being her memories as she thinks she's awake while also knowing she couldn't be. Though there is also mention of some childhood nightmares in the chapter as well, which continues my using the trippiness of a dream to represent the characters overpowering emotions and fears. I think I've done this in several stories actually (two others at least.) and the dreams are almost always used as analogies for something. Very few times the dreams are just nightmares or whatnot, and those are usually on the nose representations of desires or fears. I'd love to write a book of "Damsel in the Red Dress" from Kattar's pov, tho I probably never will, but it's curious to me to think of the very different sort of nightmares he would have vs. Alicia's nightmares.
23 days later
Oh, my next dream sequence is out. I realize now that as of yet, the only dreams I've really written in "Damsel in the Red Dress" are nightmares. I should probably change that sometime soon lol:
I remember the nightmares.
If I admit…I’m afraid-
Of her.
They started first, a few months before the divorce. I would see shadows in the room that looked like goblins. Crouched and crooked bodies under the beds and in every corner that couldn’t be touched by the streetlight outside the window. I would hug Andrew tight as I watched helplessly - my baby brother becoming one with the darkness - being yanked through the curtains and the glass to evaporate in the moonlight amongst shrieks and pleas - and wake to hear him sobbing-
“‘-Licia. Alicia.”
He’d had a nightmare.
And I'd tell him it was just a dream.
27 days later
How long is it gonna be until my next dream sequence. I haven't gotten to be absolutely mental in too long XDDD
16 days later
Essence, the female lead from my new novel "A Dozen Morning Glories," has the most boring dreams on planet earth. She dreams about work, which proves she spends way too much time working. But on the bright side, she's an editor, which means she's dreaming about stories, though I suppose that could also be creepy depending on the context of the book
27 days later
I'm finally going to get to write another dream soon in "Damsel in the Red Dress." Yet another nightmare. How many people in your stories' dreams represent their ideals or wishes and how many represent their fears? In DITRD my characters' dreams are quite a mixed bag, but the only ones we usually get to see are Alicia's nightmares. I have plans for a sweet dream at some point relatively soon tho.
Well, it's far too early for my sequence, so SPOILERY maybe? But I'll drop this sketch here cause I was doodling it a few days ago where a certain character goes down below in a dream.
To answer your question, that thing this person encounters represents the person's guilt or sins, and fears of said sins coming back to bite them in the butt - not saying if that happens or not. It's a very early concept still.
And the thing depicted is literally my interpretation of Anzu, a Sumerian diety who delivered written law to man (to fowls too in my story's weird lore) but he's punished for his actions, so I saw it appropriate to include it in this dream as a "divine judgment" entity. Again, it'll be a while (like a few seasons) before you see this nightmare, but it's planned...
More of a daydream, but I think it counts.
--Thunder crashed in the distance, and when it did, his surroundings flickered from his dusty, close room to an open-aired utopia. The ceiling had become a limitless, black sky, the walls had become an open and sandy beach, and the smell of the dusty room had been replaced with the fresh smell of greens wet with water. The moon and stars were reflected like beautiful sapphires in the clear and glassy sea. The pleasing sound of water-on-water blessed his ears, and the sand beneath his feet felt rough, but warm and comforting. The iridescent water in front of him beckoned him to it.
He dipped his hands in, shivering at how cold it felt. He had read books about the ocean, but it was not the same as experiencing it for himself. He had the vocabulary to describe it, at least, because vocabulary was all he had.--
The very first scene in Apparent Secrets is a dream. 
Dreams play a huge part in the novel...
It was happening again. That strange feeling, so real, but impossible at the same time. She watched through eyes that were not her own, as the being she inhabited crept from the shadows to the light. All around the darkness, the faint glow of iridescent blue crystals guided travelers along the severe, weather-worn tunnel. From within the coolness of the darkened cave, one could feel the rays of searing red-hot summer sunlight pouring in from the gaping entrance.
Emerging into the crimson rays, a tall, stately avian figure took up a sturdy stance to brace for the fierce, warm winds. From this high and mighty peak, an alien landscape of cliff and forest charged ahead to greet the jagged horizon. The valley below stirred with the movements of wind-swept aromatic grasses and strange, foreign animals. The unearthly scenery was as breathtaking as it was lonely, as there was nothing familiar in sight.
Looking down from the mountain made her nauseous, but her host body did not seem to mind. From the apex of the craggy peak, her host unfurled their long, folded wings and spread the gold-tipped, creamy-white feathers wide. Each plume became a finger, stretching to catch the thermal updrafts from below. Her stomach lurched at the prospect of sudden descent, and her tongue felt thick and dry from sticking to the roof of her parched mouth. Without pause, the host leapt from their perch, pushing off the rocky landing with long, bird-like legs.
Freefall. Dreadful, terrifying freefall. Her host's wings clamped to their backside, and arms and legs were drawn up to maximize velocity. She wanted desperately to look away but was compelled to watch as the ground rushed towards her with horrifying speed. She tensed and lurched, feeling the tightness of anxiety and panic all over. Gripped with fear, she inhaled sharply as her host finally unfurled their wings to take flight. The immense feathers kissed the rocks below, deftly avoiding a disastrous collision.
The sound of her heartbeat rang out in her mind. Too fast, too fast indeed for comfort. Each echo of 'lub-dub' deafened her to the caws and brays of creatures below. Her host's rhythmic flapping of wings went unheard. So too did the whistle of passing tendril-covered trees. Her host climbed higher and higher towards the crimson skies. From this lofty height, one could surely see the whole world. Impressive, beautiful, imaginative, and unreal...
Her eyes opened with a start, in concert with the deep breath she forced upon waking. Iris Alcazar found herself back home, the vision all but a memory now. It wasn't a dream, at least it couldn't have been. She was convinced that this recurring projection was just the latest of her adventures delving into an alien world. She would have thought herself foolish, if not for the evidence of it being true in her own apartment.
ahh, i wouldn't say dreams play a HUGE part in mine, but i often use them to poetically represent my characters fears or worries
so far, I've had three dream sequences
and
The way I make it visibly so is the black negative space a more restrictive margin, and the same setting.
However, when I have a flashback sequence (which in a way is still kind of like a dream sequence anyways), I also have the black background as well, but in contrast I do not follow the restrictive margins, and add a CRT scan line filter to the images
Lucian drifted in a realm of swirling shadows, the edges of his consciousness blurring between sleep and a strange, unsettling awareness. Then, a voice, deep and resonating, pierced the inky blackness. It was Vornath.
The shadows coalesced, revealing Vornath's imposing form. Flames danced in his piercing red eyes, casting an eerie glow on Lucian's face. An icy dread snaked down Lucian's spine.
"Lucian," Vornath's voice boomed, echoing in the boundless void, "the time has come. Your part of the bargain nears. I have a lead on the second gem that we were discussing." Vornath’s gaunt frame moved closer to Lucian. “The gem lies in the jagged hills a few days' journey north of where you are now.”
Lucian, his jaw clenched, asked, “How do you know where I am?”
A cruel smile played on Vornath's lips, devoid of warmth or humor. "Lucian, I'm in your dreams. I am a part of you. You think I can’t pinpoint where you are? Now listen to me because this gem will not be easy to get to. The Jagged Hills are a forgotten place. At the heart of the hills there is a cave with the gem in wait.” Just as Vornath finished explaining the gems location to Lucian his almost skeletal claw wreathed in a green fire motioned to the void.
An image flickered into existence a jagged mountain range unlike anything Lucian had ever seen. Its peaks clawed at the sky like the grasping talons of a beast, a landscape that seemed to defy the very laws of nature. Nestled within a treacherous ravine, a dark opening marked the entrance to a mine.
"The Serpent's Maw," Vornath's voice dripped with a chilling cadence. "There, the gem rests, guarded by darkness and peril. Retrieve it, Lucian. Prove your worth."
“What am I looking for once I get into the cavern? What does the gem look like?” Lucian demanded in exasperation, “Stop speaking in riddles, demon.”
Vornath now seriously looked at Lucian. “As you wish. The gem you are looking for is the color of amethyst. I cannot tell you exactly what you are looking for in the cavern because I myself have never been there. All I know is you better be ready for a fight because the gems are never unguarded. Sources of great power are rarely left undisturbed.”
Lucian turned his back to Vornath. “Why don’t you just go get the gems? You have more power than I do. It just seems like poor planning on your part. What if I fail?”
Vornath hissed. “I can’t obtain the gems myself. I’m not able to leave hell where I reside. At least not without heavy scrutiny. Just the little time I took in Archanella offering you a bargain was questioned. Trust me I want nothing more than to forget you exist and to just go get them myself.” Vornath sneered. “And if you fail I'll find another weak adventurer and convince them to do it for me.”
The image dissolved as abruptly as it appeared, plunging Lucian back into the suffocating darkness. Vornath's words echoed in his mind a gem, a hidden mine, a place called the Jagged Hills.
I like to use mine for gods and lords to communicate with the main character. It keeps it a little more low stakes for more often encounters.
Harley has a dream about Robin, his late fiancé, where they're walking on a beach:
I’m dreaming.
You and I are on the beach, hand in hand, talking about the wedding. You look so damn beautiful, your red hair flying in the breeze. It’s getting long and you say you need to get a haircut. I stop and turn you so you're in my arms. I tuck some hair behind your ear, gazing into your smiling blue eyes.
“You’re perfect,” I say softly. You really are.
“You’re an idiot,” you chuckle. Your arms loop around my neck, your fingers playing with my hair. “You need one, too.”
I shrug, my hands sliding up your sides and around to your waist. “I’m going for a more bohemian look,” I say with a grin. It’s your favorite grin.
“You’re going to look like a bloody bum, is what’s going to happen.”
I laugh, your smile brilliant in the setting sun. “Does it really look that bad?”
You wrinkle your nose. “You were not meant to have long hair, love.”
I stick out my bottom lip in a pout. “And here I thought you found me pretty with long hair.”
It’s your turn to laugh, the musical sound singing in my veins. “You are pretty, handsome even. But your hair is too wild. It’s curling and getting in your eyes.” You brush some off my forehead. “I can’t see them.”
“They’re brown,” I say. “They really aren’t that amazing.”
“They’re yours,” you say softly, tilting your head. I feel a shiver go down my spine and I instinctively pull you closer. I absolutely love it when you do that. My arms wrap tighter around you, lacing at your lower back.
I lower my face to yours, rubbing the tips of our noses together until you giggle. “Fine, I’ll get it cut tomorrow.”
“Thank you,” you whisper. After a minute, one hand slides to my chest. “We’re getting married next month.”
I nod slowly. “Are you getting nervous?”
You shake your head. “No.” Those gorgeous blue eyes, as blue as the ocean we’re walking along, swim on my face. “I’m excited,” you add with a whisper. Damn, and that smile…that most perfect smile. “I get to be yours forever, a dream come true as far as I’m concerned.”
I pull away slightly, moving to take your face in my hands. “I’m already yours forever, Robin. This is just a formality, a statement. You have owned every cell in my body since the first moment I saw you.”
You swallow hard, your eyes shining as you press closer into me, rising up on tiptoe to place your lips softly against mine without kissing me.
“I love you, Lee,” you say, your breath hot and sweet against my lips. And then you’re kissing me, slowly, tenderly. You taste so good, like the wine we had at dinner, mixed with your own personal taste that I could never describe. All I ever knew was that it got me drunk, made me high, made my head spin until I thought the world was going to fly out from under my feet.
“I love you, Robin,” I say when I reluctantly break the kiss to get my breath, my heart thudding against my ribcage. “I am completely and irrevocably mad for you.”
“Don’t stop,” you say, a hitch in your voice. “Please never stop loving me.”
“I’ll die first.” I take your mouth with my own, kissing you with a more fevered passion than before, breathing you in, consuming you, wanting you more than I can express. The hotel is way too far away and I want you now.
That’s when the music starts.
Why is music playing at the beach? There’s no stereo around here, no PA system. Who cares…I’m not letting you go for the world. I feel the tears trail down my face as I pick you up, your legs wrapping around my waist. You are so light…so easy to hold and carry. I could carry you everywhere and never get tired.
The music is on a loop. And it’s a song from a show…an anime. You don’t watch much anime and this is one of them. It gets louder, and the beach begins to fade away. I don’t hear the ocean anymore.
I don’t feel you around me anymore.
I can’t taste you anymore.
Just a cold hard pillow and a blanket that’s resting off my shoulders.
His dreams (and nightmares) are the only place Harley can see Robin again, and this is more of a memory of a happier time before things all went wrong.