Analyze Your Novel Like a Dream
“Help, I can’t find my theme!” We talked about this a couple of weeks ago.
What if you discover yourself in this situation:
You’re three-quarters of the way through your novel (or maybe you finished it three weeks ago) and somebody asks you, “What’s it about? What’s the theme?” — and you find yourself staring blankly.
How do you identify your theme if you still don’t know it even after you’ve finished the book?
(Trust me, I’ve been there too. More than once.)
Here’s one way: think of your book as a dream.
I mean really. Imagine it’s a dream that you had last night and now you’re trying to interpret it, to find out what it means.
This is not as crazy as it sounds.
Consider: Stories seize us. They pour out of us. We’re writing them but we don’t really know where all this stuff is coming from. We can’t even articulate why this particular tale has taken hold of us so powerfully.
In other words, just like a dream.
Stories structure themselves. Characters appear. They speak, they clash, they love. Events take place. Somehow a cohesive narrative unfolds.
Just like a dream.
Where is our story coming from? Our unconscious, our Muse, the unplumbed depths of our secret heart.
Just like a dream.
So let’s analyze it like a dream.
[Key resource if you don’t have it already: Inner Work by Robert Johnson. Indispensable for interpretation of dreams.]
Okay, our intention in analyzing our book/dream is to identify the theme. We’re going to work backwards. We’re going to start with the characters and let them lead us back to the theme.
We’re going to use the following storytelling principle:
Every character must represent an aspect of the theme.
Are you skeptical? Do you think this idea is a little too wonky? Will our story, which has spilled out of our guts entirely on instinct, really cohere around a theme even though we have no idea what that theme is? Will the characters really reflect aspects of the theme, even though we’ve never given this concept a moment’s thought—and certainly never wrote a word with this idea in mind?
Yes and yes.
Again our story is coming from the same source as our dreams. Why wouldn’t it follow the same rules?
How do we analyze a dream?
1) The language of dreams is symbolism. When our dog or our spouse appears to us in a dream, they are not them specifically. Rather, they represent something. They are symbols of something.
To find out what they represent we ask ourselves, “What associations do I have to my dog? My spouse?” We may write out a list of fifty. One will ring a bell. “Ah, Rover in the dream stands for loyalty!”
2) Everything in the dream is an aspect of ourselves. Including Rover. Including our spouse.
Ready? Let’s do a Freud number on the novel we’ve just finished.
Our novel is about Queen Boudica. the warrior monarch of ancient Britannia. In our story the brilliant but vulnerable Boudica fights one war against France and three more against Norman invaders, she takes two lovers (twin brothers, both Vikings), she is overthrown in a rebellion, imprisoned, almost beheaded, she escapes, etc.
Colorful characters surround her. Her Merlin-like mentor Aylward, her bastard son Ethelbert, her rival sister Gwyneth the Proud, her Irish wolfhound Byblos, blah blah etc. [I’m making all this up by the way, except Boudica.]
Let’s start with Aylward.
What does he represent? What is he a symbol of? (Remember, this doughty sage and wizard will infallibly represent an aspect of the theme.)
What about Ethelbert? Gwyneth? The noble wolfhound Byblos?
I know it sounds crazy but this exercise works.
It’s pretty amazing that it does work, actually. Think about what it means: that our unconscious, our Muse is producing spontaneously through us and without our conscious participation not just a story, but a story that has critical meaning for the evolution of our soul — and a story that, in fact, may be saving our own life and our sanity without us even realizing it.
But back to Queen Boudica.
We’re interpreting our book as if it were a dream and suddenly we realize, “OMG, the story is about self-belief! Every character, including Byblos the Irish wolfhound, is either pro or con to Boudica’s belief in herself as sovereign of the kingdom. And even Byblos’ name [which means “book”] is central to that theme, though we had no clue whatsoever as were creating this animal and naming him.”
The last character we’ll analyze is our protagonist, Boudica herself. (Remember the protagonist embodies the theme.) Why, we ask ourselves, did we pick Boudica as our hero? What aspect of ourselves does she represent? “Holy catfish, it is self-belief! Why her? Because, being a woman, she had two strikes against her in the roles of warrior and ruler. And she overcame them by conquering not just her external foes, but her internal doubts.”
We’ve got it now.
Suddenly we see the whole book through a new and brilliant lens. “Ah,” we say, “we need to cut that passage about the Viking raid. Great as it is, it’s not on-theme. And Boudica’s term of imprisonment needs to be much more about her internal struggle. Maybe she should even have a breakthrough dream while she’s there in the dungeon!”
When Shawn reads this post, he’s going to say, “Hey! This is exactly what I do as an editor! This is precisely how I break down a story to figure out its theme.”
And he’ll be absolutely right.
Analyze your story as if it were a dream. The exercise will lead you back to the theme. And the theme will be the key to tweaking, reconfiguring, and really empowering the story.
[And for sure get Robert Johnson’s book, Inner Work. Way worth it.]