Escaping the Dreaded Dream Sequence Trap

Untangle the Knotted Red Threads - Why the "It Was All a Dream" Trope Feels Like a Betrayal and How to Fix It

“Oh, no, it was all a dream!” This cliché can ruin an entire scene, sometimes even an entire novel. It’s a trap and a wrap. The trap is that a dream sequence is much like having a character look in the mirror to describe themselves; it’s overdone. If you want to kill a manuscript, the dream sequence is the perfect suicide—death by cliché—the wrap. It is a case of being one and done. When a trope is repeated excessively without any fresh innovation, it becomes stale and predictable, often stalling the plot. However, if authors find a way to reinvent the dream trope by presenting the scene as a clean, lit slate—one that is polished and purposeful, and ties directly into the narrative’s plot—it can lure readers in. Written with care and ingenuity, this cheesy, cookie-cutter trope becomes an effective tool.

When writing a supernatural romance like Threads of Red, dreams and visions serve as vital psychological bridges. The recipe for an intriguing dream sequence or premonition requires one main ingredient: potent sensory details. When these descriptions tie directly into the plot's stakes, the trope transforms into a powerful narrative tool that transports the reader into the scene instead of jarring them out of the story.

One of the plotlines, introduced early in the novel, is the future meeting of the two main characters. As we now know from reading other articles that sweep readers into the world of Threads of Red, Ellie and Ezekiel live very different lives. He’s an A-list superstar; she leads a structured, ordinary life. How do they find out about each other? How will they ever meet? What leads up to their eventual introduction? The stakes are high and seem out of reach. Throwing in a few dreams and visions helps create a slow burn while providing the essential foundation necessary for the plotline.

If you need help creating a vision or dream make a vision board for your story or a mood board for your character to flesh out your thoughts.

Below is an abridged vision Ellie has of Ezekiel long before they ever lock eyes. Notice the sensory details and character description; they are essential to both the scene and the future of their story. The premonition is not a happy moment of designed pleasure; rather, it is a foreshadowing that leads the reader down the same path Ellie is pulled toward.

I am no longer a slave to dirty laundry. I am an author, bolting into Starbucks for a caffeine fix. The inviting aroma of dark roasted beans hit me as I near the counter. Scalding milk and syrupy caramel collide, wrapping me in that familiar sugar-rush I’ve been craving.

Luck and timing place me at the counter at the precise moment the golden boy of Hollywood, Ezekiel Larson, strolls in, in search of a latte. My head whips around when I catch his delicious scent. I peek up at him. Golden-teak eyes and a smile that stuns my heart glint beneath an Angels cap worn backwards.

Soft murmurs buzz around them. Ezekiel scans the coffee shop. Customers whisper behind their hands and point. “Let’s go somewhere to talk.”

Outside, polished black and silver gleam against buffed chrome on his limited-edition Ducati. I strap my hands across his six-pack and cling to him. My breasts press hard into his jacket; my thighs push tight against his. Worn leather and aftershave with a hint of musk and sandalwood drift to me, and I inhale him deeply. Every single nerve dances with delight.

The dryer sounded with a loud buzz, startling her. The vision of meeting Ezekiel Larson, though not logical or realistic was now entrenched in her gut.

Ellie’s impossible dreams aren't vague or random; they are pieces of sweet memories from past-life experiences shared with Ezekiel. They introduce the red-threaded theme and carry the literal, physical warmth of a cinnabar thread that bound them long ago. Her visions of the two caught up in the sizzling throes of passion are not wishful, choreographed fantasies; instead, they embody the core motif of the red string of fate and are premonitions heavy with the vermilion bond that still ties them.

With every dream and vision, she and Ezekiel are entwined in glowing scarlet threads that are warm and inviting, silky and soothing. They eclipse her mind and her aura, then nestle deep within her soul, saturating her essence. When she stirs from these slumbers or emerges from a flash of the future, she plummets back into reality, but the lingering emotion hijacks her real-world choices, steering her directly toward her destiny—Ezekiel.

Ellie isn’t the only one experiencing soul memories that emerge during sleep. Ezekiel has dreams of his own. Below is a condensed excerpt from Threads of Red that illustrates how this dream provides that psychological bridge I discussed earlier, propelling Ezekiel toward his fated mate—Ellie.

The Celtic Dark Age. Winter solstice. Elowen is a powerful priestess. I am Emrys, a Druid prince. We connect with nature, enlisting the land and its resources to create magic. I’ve been wounded by a Roman soldier’s dagger, and Elowen works diligently over me with tranquil, measured steps. Her long, dark hair touches my chest as she opens my cloak and tunic.

“Let me work, my love,” she quavers.

She lifts a pale-gold draught to my lips—an antidote to the hellebore-anointed steel. It is chamomile infused with mistletoe. As I swallow, a prickling warmth spreads through my body, thawing the chilled blood where the poison had settled. Finally, she casts a spell of protection and transmigration. I am losing consciousness, but her words thrum through me, steady and certain. “I love you, Emrys. I promise to find you in our next life.”

“I am yours always, through all time,” I murmur, as the pale silver tendrils of smoke begin to thin the veil between the worlds.

He jolted awake, the taste of mistletoe and chamomile still phantom-bitter on his tongue. His chest heaved, gasping for the hallowed, hearth-warmed air of a thatched-roof roundhouse that had long ago crumbled into myth. The “divine magic” didn’t vanish; it descended into a fervent, aching need that clawed at his ribs. He wasn’t Emrys anymore, but the promise—he was hers through all time—was etched into his DNA like a command.

Ezekiel's dream is unusual and contains specific sensory details from that long-ago era, keeping readers interested. Though he may not understand exactly what this dream means, it allows Ezekiel to finally see the face of the woman he can't stop thinking about. It provides that emotional bridge that seeps into his very cells strengthening his tie to the mysterious stranger. It also gives readers a glimpse into the couple's ancient bond and makes them long for the impending meeting right along with Ezekiel.

Do you use dream sequences or visions in your manuscript? Review them and make certain that they advance the plot instead of stalling it!