The Science section of today’s edition of The Telegraph features a story about how a form of ‘wi-fi’ connects human brains. This phenomenon is known as The Interbrain, and is based on the research of Professor Digby Tantum, a clinical professor of psychotherapy at the University of Sheffield.
Reading this article helped fill in some blanks on my own theory of culture, and how it manifests within people. I would like to develop a paper, after putting finishing touches on a different (current) thesis, that comes at this very same idea from a different angle. I already believe that we are wired together, and I have a lot to say on this subject. This only confirms some of my suspicions.
If you have not read today’s article from The Telegraph, do so. It helps to explain aspects of our social nature. Here is a passage I found particularly pertinent.
Prof Tantum believes that the communication between brains may happen as an ‘inadvertent leak’ and it may be linked to smell. Areas of the brain which have the most activity of neurons are located in the prefrontal cortex, and are linked with smelling. They also are situated where they follow the gaze.
Our social nature may be linked to smell? I am willing to go out on a limb with a detail of my own theory. I think the word ‘may’ is not necessary. But in order to explain this, I will have to first explain how similar we are to social insects. In my younger days, before i lost my strength, I was a beekeeper (among other things). I had the chance to study bees, and later ants, up close and personal. Those experiences have remained with me. I look at human behavior through a lens formed during those years.
I have not abandoned my NaNoWriMo project. I have only set it aside for the time being. When i finish the project i started 36 years ago — only days from doing so — I will have more time for that, and this blog, and maybe talking about some things that Professor Digby Tantum is introducing to the world. His ideas allow me to begin discussing my own. Many of which bleed over into spirituality and its various forms of religious manifestations throughout history.
Last week I didn’t post anything. I was too close to a creative moment, and I was too distracted channeling the creative vision to break out of that and try to describe it to others. Does this make any sense?
Last Wednesday began with journaling. I wound up making a lot of notes. These notes helped me see something within my narrative. Some potential. After writing those notes, I couldn’t stop thinking about them. Later that day I tried to post something here on this blog. But I couldn’t stop thinking about the morning’s notes. The blog had to take a back seat. By Thursday, I had missed a self-imposed deadline. I decided not to beat myself up about it. I would just move forward. I still had those notes on my mind. I got back to work and expanded on what I had written the day before.
Those notes then went into the model of the book I am building. In my last post, I mentioned using mind-mapping software to build out models for this book. I have created a number of models over the past few years. Each one getting closer to my vision. As I worked with the current model, began to feel that the moment was at hand. I have been building these models to help me think about what I have said, and what needs to be said, as I write. Without the models I’m writing into a void. I can’t just wing this narrative without some structure. This is too complicated for a seat-of-the-pants approach.
I need to see all of the talking points and where the statements have to be made within the narrative in order to keep the suspense, while still informing the reader. I began building these models with the conviction that at some point writing the book would become fairly easy. At some point, with enough development, I anticipated that the model would trigger the narrative with a mere gaze. Working with the mind-map this week, I began responding to the model in just this way. Two days ago I began a new Scrivener project. I needed a fresh blank slate for this draft. Yesterday I began composing. Today the opening began to expand.
I have been suffering writer’s block. All kinds of false starts as I attempt to write for my blog. However, I can defeat it by lowering my standards. So here goes.
I have no problem with the act of writing itself. Every day I sit down with my journal and fill it with words. But when I write for my blog, my creativity is stifled. So, as a solution I have bound and gagged my internal editor and stuck him in another room.
I have also defined a very limited scope for my blog. It removes all of the stress over what to say. This should be so simple. Each week, I have to do something to get published, or I have to explain my failure to do some thing. Each week going forward, blogging should now be an act of stating the obvious.
So today, I will bring everyone up to date. This past summer I went to a writing conference in Tucson. It was my fourth conference in about seven years. But it was the first in which I submitted a manuscript to be read by an agent. The agent gave me some excellent feedback.
First, he told me there was absolutely no chance he would represent me. He laid out the type of work he is looking for, and I definitely do not fit his niche. Hearing that was reassuring. Because I went in with the idea that an agent would tell me some ugly truths I needed to hear. So this meeting turned out to be very productive.
The agent pointed out that my manuscript was non-fiction. He said that anyone can get published if they can write fiction well. But in non-fiction, publishers want credentialed writers. He suggested that a resume of magazine and journal articles would greatly help my cause. He also suggested that the first chapter of my manuscript would stand well on its own as a magazine piece.
So my goal this year is to begin publishing articles. My first goal is to complete a companion piece for an article based on my first chapter. Then, to re-write the original article to support this second piece. Then, to find a home for these two essays.