There’s a saying (there’s not but there should be) that it’s all very well chasing your dreams but if you don’t know what those dreams look like, then all you’re doing is playing Marco Polo with air.
You have to close your eyes in Marco Polo, but Chasing Dreams reminds us that if you open them, things become a lot more clear.
Claire Pressley (super-dooper corporate-y type person) lives in New York but decides to leave her mega-business life, and move to Eagle Cove in Oregon to renovate a homestead and turn it into a gorgeous guesthouse.
Eagle Cove’s beloved town librarian Ruby Jordan is having none of that, thanks very much. That homestead has been on her wish-list to buy for ages with the land it sits on ready for her planned animal shelter.
It doesn’t matter. The homestead’s sold, Ruby’s gutted, and Claire feels that maybe moving to the small town might now be a pretty crap idea. Except it’s not. Because life has a way of recalibrating itself, like when you give your SatNav a decent whack and it recalibrates itself.
Chasing Dreams should resonate with many people, particularly with all of our lockdowns and such as we reevaluate our lives, our days, our jobs, our dreams.
Superficially, this story is about two women who get together because one moves to the town where the other woman lives. They clash. The one who moves buys a property that the other one wanted. They solve their problem. There’s sex. Bing bang boom. They’re together.
But to reduce this story to… I just did. Sorry, Angela.
But! There are so many layers to this novel. It’s very AL Brooks; here’s a light story, but look under here, over there, between these lines and you’ll discover such a wonderful commentary on elements of life. I love it.
Claire has some baggage. She’s got veritable suitcases of life crap which she’s trying to toss out of the car as she moves to Eagle Cove. Her job, all glass and aluminium, stomps on smaller businesses and Claire’s level of distaste for that is now too much to consume. She’s also a little bit done with the friends-with-benefits situation she has going. Well, the benefits are nice, but Claire wants that one special person to share all those benefits with. Forever.
Oh! Speaking of sex—we were—a little segue here. Another thing that Brooks does well is write safe sex seamlessly into a story. It’s not shoehorned into a scene like an oddly-shaped sex toy. Want to know how to add dental dams into a foreplay conversation and still make it sexy? Read this book.
Right. Dreams. Chasing them.
So, Ruby. For a little while in the story, I wanted to grab her shoulders, glare into her eyes like a slightly demented aunt, and tell her to get out of her own way. This reaction was mainly about her dream of purchasing the Pruitt property. It was there, the dream, but Ruby wallows beautifully in her nearly-but-not-quite pity party of ‘I need more time, I need a bit more money’.
So, when Claire sweeps in and buys the property, Ruby has to reassess her dreams. Reassessing dreams is very confronting. It makes the now-lost dream quite stark rather than just a vague, warm fuzzy wish. And when something’s confronting, either you suck it up, or you redirect blame. Claire becomes the metaphorical flag-bearer in Ruby’s what-else-can-go-wrong? parade. Hardly fair, but that’s what we do when our dreams are whisked away.
This is where I needed to sit down with both Claire and Ruby, probably in Ginny and Bill’s diner, and tell them that sometimes chasing a dream means to let go of it. That’s sounds crazy, but hear me out. If you’re so focused on a thing, you either can’t see anything else or you strangle the life out of that thing simply through the power of the ten-thousand laser beams coming from your eyeballs. A dream can be such a fixation that it’s no longer a dream. Because if you step back from a dream, kind-of-but-not-quite let it go, you can let it breathe.
Luckily, Claire and Ruby unclench a little from their dream—the property dream. The dream that can be analysed and they use their head to think about. Ha! But they’ve both got another dream. That one sits in each of their hearts. And that dream is very hard to unclench from. Hearts don’t listen to reason and logic and ideas about unclenching.
To do that means to be vulnerable. Ruby and Claire each have a dream of a forever person but both have chosen to not acknowledge that dream. They’ve both tossed that dream away. Sort of. We give up on our dreams because we’re scared. It’s much safer to sit in a bright and shiny awful that you hate because it’s awful and there’s so much awful rather than travel through the often hazardous forest to get to that dream.
Because that means you have to be vulnerable.
For much of the story, I felt Ruby was the most vulnerable. Yes, Claire has the biggest kind-of physical life stuff to let go of in order to chase her dream, and therefore she should be the most vulnerable. After all, she’s completely back flipped on her life to move to Eagle Cove to start a new life.
But Ruby? She’s allowing her heart to chase her dream—the new dream with Claire in it—and that makes her seem much more susceptible to hurt.
Claire has to work through the workplace trauma and misplaced guilt from the Cobb deal. She blames herself, but in letting that guilt go, she gives herself permission to also chase her dream.
Again, I find myself sitting in a booth at Ginny and Bill’s diner, sighing at Claire and Ruby, who sit tentatively, their shared Mac and cheese forgotten on the table.
Unless you give yourself permission to chase your dreams, you’re not really going after those dreams at all. They may as well be small talk at a party.
“So, what are your hopes and dreams?”
“Oh. Perhaps a retreat for women.”
“Lovely. Well, something to look forward to when you retire? Fill in your free time, right? Hors-d'œuvres?
Ruby works out her dream earlier than Claire. Then, we get the great character development thing (proper author-y word) that Brooks does so well in all her novels; Ruby and Claire talk to each other. As adults. Adulting about wishes, and waiting, and holding open the door of your dream so that when the other one is ready, you can walk through together.
But! Then they don’t communicate. Brooks makes sure there’s just enough sharing out loud as there is sharing inside their own heads, which is true to life. When you think about it.
It’s very difficult to chase something if the sandbags of past relationships, past ideals, past justifications hold you in place and your dream skitters on ahead. Ruby and Claire’s (and Shirley and Pete’s - you’ll see) sandbags get foisted over the side and it’s a clear road because now they can catch it. The dream.
Claire comes to Eagle Cove to chase—to catch—one dream; the property. Which is Ruby’s dream property. Who knew that a caught dream brings other dreams along for the ride?