One time I dreamt that I was asleep. And when I woke up I discovered that I
really was.

Is that prophetic, or wot?

So, don't tell me that dreams can't come true.

--BF'ngD

"CoreyWhite" gmail.com> wrote in message
news:1180447569.466443.167160@w5g2000hsg.googlegroups.com...
I'm looking for writers to help me with some fiction I am working on,
or provide some good criticism. Eventually I would like to turn this
story into a novel, but my first goal is to write a short story. I
have read this story over and enjoyed reading it okay, but when I
compare it to the authors you would normally find in a book store it
is lacking the good english usage you find in A++ Novels. So if any
writers would like a job, perhaps I could pay you to help me finish
this short story.. If you are up to the challenge.

Imagine a man so obsessed with dreaming that he keeps a dream journal
every night, and wanders off into his dreams eventually. Waking up in
the mornings only to find that he is still dreaming, until one day he
discovers that even though he thought that he had woken, he realizes
that he is still dreaming, and he never wakes back up. He lives his
life from that point on in the shadows between dreams & the real
world. Finding himself still meeting the people he knows, but seeing
them as nightmares. Left only perhaps with a guidepost to help him
make his way back to the real world. A map through the astral, where
he finds his way to the old fairytales, and myths. Finally meeting
archetypes representing secret gods, and like the wizard of Oz they
help him back to the real world.. But unfortunately he is to discover
the years have past him by, and every single change, every last
mistake he made in his dreams because he neglected to think of them as
real has changed the world, and he was left in to a life full of
living nightmares.. So he decides that the only thing he can do is go
back into the shadows & face his demons again. .

Christopher T. Kelly had never ventured far from home. His days
always felt the same, and he didn't have much or anything to do with
his time. Always the outsider, without any real job or family to call
his own. He lived quietly in a group home, depressed and without any
hope.

Every day at around noon, he would walk 5 blocks down the road, and
around the corner to the caf