Everyone has fantasies. I’m convinced of this, even if they aren’t talked about or even denied. Writers likely fantasize more than the average person. I shouldn’t say likely, I am sure of it. We have to, its how our stories emerge. Most of mine are in an imaginary land, with imaginary characters. Some of those fantasies are worth sharing and that’s how stories are written.
But I do have “real world” fantasies too.
I had a discussion with friends over drinks about odd fantasies. (Dangerous combination, I know) Everyone thought my Axl Rose fantasy was hilarious. It’s not a sexual fantasy. No I never had sexual fantasies about Axl. But I did use to fantasize that he was my dad. (Of all things) This probably started when I was about 13 or 14 and I was beginning to realize how strict my own father was and how royally fucked I was if I ever wanted to do anything fun before the age of 18.
So I used to fantasize that Axl was my dad. (Sweet child of mine was written for me btw, although Axl got my eyes wrong. They are green and not blue. I don’t hold this against him. As a writer I understand how ‘she’s got eyes of the bluest sky’ sounds way better than ‘she’s got eyes like green grass.’ )
I figured I’d be able to do pretty much anything I pleased. I imagined myself sharing a bottle of whisky and a cigarette with Slash back stage at a concert. I could have a piercings and tattoos and cuss as much as I wanted. I mean, shit, the man pisses publicly on planes, what the hell was he going to say to me?
One of my friends pointed out that if Axl had really been my dad I would be way more fucked up than I am now. But I was like, who cares? I’d be rich, and Stephanie Seymour could have been my mom, so I’d also be super hot too. If you’re rich and hot who cares if you’re balls to the wall crazy?
A few of my friends still refer to Axl as ‘”Heidi’s dad” Well, you never know. I do not remember my conception, and our hair is kind of similiar.