Dream Walking the Road

It came to me years ago, pronounced in a dream like second language vocabulary. It turned over and over in mind, syllables tumbling slowly into place. The setting I cannot recollect, but the locale was foreign. Maybe I sat crossed-legged in a smoky, gold-laced den, rāga' tableau pulsing the air alongside the beckoning drone of a sitar. Maybe not. I do know I got to my feet to receive it: a dream-word hovering opaque, intangible; and a rich voice: your path, it said. Vengarahala.

Did you mean: vinegar hilal? asks Google? Venkatachala? offers Wikipedia. I've not fully investigated the permutations, but of our esteemed body of knowledge I have deduced that damn little supports my unique understanding of the word. I was either bestowed this word or in some way I chose it. Whatever the origin, the passive/active nature of vengarahala finds me pondering its significance today, nearly two decades later.

Life is different, now. And now. In June of 2010 I stopped consuming alcohol, and a month later I graduated with my Goddard MFA: two consecutive steps away from a passive condition into an active one. Since then, the energy I'd been channeling into a manuscript far too small for its weight has found new direction in short stories such as "Sanctum," graciously included in Soul's Road. Stories arising or informed by dreams. And as they come forward, so the road unrolls.* My late father, ragged boy-man, appears on the shoulder of one recent dream road. Scrawled on his board in what must have drained the cartridge of a ballpoint (his last?): any-freakin-place.

So, toward being a better writer, dreaming is a big part of my walk. If I haven't at some point experienced in a dream the emotional current of a story or poem, it won't often have the sea-legs or guts for revision. My characters are my subjects and, as Bob Dylan said of his own, all versions of myself on their own paths, doomed or otherwise.

Something else I've been carrying around a few years: El camino se hace al andar.

Deborah Staley on Soul's Road

When Cody Luff invited me to be a part of Soul's Road, then untitled, I was so honored. Also invited were a number of amazing writers I admire who had all been through the Goddard MFA in Creative Writing Program. I really wanted to be involved, but my challenge was the fact that I was still a student and in my final semester at Goddard. I had a huge amount of work to do to finish and graduate on time. If Cody had not been so generous to work with me on deadlines, I could not have done it.

My contribution to Soul's Road is titled "That Girl." This story is a bit of a departure for me. I am multi-published in novel-length romance and romantic short stories. That said, I had been wanting to write something different. Something "literary" just to see if I could. "That Girl" is creative non-fiction/memoir. It's about a young girl who struggles through illness as a child and then depression as an adult. When I wrote this story, it felt like I was laying my soul bare. It was painful, and I shed more than a few tears. I thought more than once that I couldn't finish the story. I even considered pulling out of the project because I just didn't know if I could publish this story--if I ever finished it. But deep down, I knew that finishing this story was important for me, and that maybe it just might be important for someone out there who may read it. I stayed with this story and finished it to offer readers hope. I am a firm believer that determination and perseverance are key ingredients for fulfilling your purpose in life. In doing so, you might just accomplish something extraordinary despite the struggles and trials. 

Writing allows my soul sing through the darkness of depression. Share your thoughts and advice on the blog today about what makes your soul sing through adversity.