Do you ever have something that pops into your head and sticks around for a while, even though you know it’s silly? I’m not talking about the lyrics to Real 2 Reel’s I Like to Move It. (Although that certainly qualifies as silly. I like to move it move it. I like to move it move it. Ahhh!!!!!)
No, I’m talking about wishful thinking. Dreams that you know have pretty much a 0% chance of ever coming true, and yet you toy with them in your head, just because it’s fun. The one that’s been kicking around my brain for the last while is that I’d like to have one of my books adapted into a successful Broadway musical, along the lines of Wicked. See what I mean? I’m not just dreaming small here. No–none of this “I’d like to have a book published” junk. Skip all those preliminary steps and jump right into the big time. I think Ichabod would make a really cool musical. Sort of Kiss Me Kate meets Wicked. Of course, my other Ichabod dream is that Tim Burton and Johnny Depp would read it after it’s published and decide they like it so much that they want to do another stab at Sleepy Hollow, with Depp returning as Ichabod. That would be cool.
What’s the worst, of course, is when these silly notions affect me enough that I start to actually dream about them coming true at night. It’s a peculiar sort of let down, when you’re lying there sleeping, convinced for a moment that Depp and Burton were making a great flick based on your writing, only to wake up when the alarm rings and ONE-TWO! You’re hit with the double blow of knowing not only that you have to get ready to go to work, but also that Depp and Burton will almost certainly never do a sequel to Sleepy Hollow, let alone base it on your book.