Experience has taught me that thoughts can be transferred from one person to another by some sort of brain wave activity, especially in times of high emotion. As a production official I have many times had a forewarning or a message of a problem when I was nowhere near the scene in question. I never ignored those warnings and was able to avert several accidents.
In a way this started with thinking how certain sports team managers could turn a gang of ordinary players into a formidable team. Was it by telling them they were good? Giving them confidence? No, it’s more than that, the manager has to believe they are good or the words are hollow; the manager has to transfer his belief into the egos of the players by some kind of thought transfer and the players have to share it with each other in the same way. It’s also how a crowd of supporters motivates a team – some kind of emotional excitement transfer at a basic level; the kind of thoings that allows lions to hunt as a pride.
It’s the same with a good story, the writer puts something of themselves into the tale, some emotion that transfers to the reader. Just the words? I don’t think so. I feel it as I write a good story that insists on being told. I don’t know if my wife’s spirit whispers in my soul, or my father joins me in the writing, or my spirit joins something unseen, but the conviction is stronger than just me.
Bernard Cornwell writes of the Battle Joy when Utred, King Alfred’s war lord’s sword becomes snake fast and he can do no wrong; it is something of that kind.
Coming down to earth, all this set me on the trail of a story about someone developing a thought reading machine. It’s part of my Bees in my Bonnet collection but I’ve uploaded it to the webpage for anyone who feels like reading it.