A few posts ago I wrote about how I would tackle writing a biography of Peter Gabriel. I've had to officially scrap the idea because a biography of PG came out in France in 2008 -- which means that it's too soon for anyone to write a new bio of him. Anyway, since the traditional publishing industry is dead, I'd have to self publish the damn thing and that would cost me at least $10,000. So, screw that.
Then my hard drive crashed and I spent 8 days offline. Now, birds gotta fly and fish gotta swim and writers gotta write. So I went at it with a pen and paper, like in the old days when I actually had the stupidity to think that anything I could write would ever be read by Peter Gabriel.
I've been dreaming about Peter since I was 16 (and now I'm 40.) I consider Dream Peter and PG to be two separate beings. I've learned a lot about dreams, lucid dreams and working with dreams in all of these years. I believe that when we die, we slip into a dream state and never wake back up. So, in the end, all we are are our dreams.
I've been spending time writing a book about Dream Peter, who visits me in all kinds of guises, including this image I found online from the website of clothing store Jhanes Barnes. Will this book ever be published? Probably not. Will I make any money off of it? Not a snowball's chance. And yet I'm writing it anyway.
There are those two voices that talk to writers when they write. One says, "This book is really going to help someone. Keep at it." The other says, "This book is only a pathetic plea to get attention. Why bother? It's not like Peter is ever going to read it!"
Guess which voice is talking to me now?
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