Typing in Our Sleep

A revolutionary idea for writers

Justin Hollingsworth, Ph.D., carefully examined his new desk chair before sitting in it. The reason he had to get a new chair is because someone had smeared automotive grease on the seat of his old black chair. Blending in with the black seat, the grease was undetectable and he sat in that grease while wearing tan trousers. He had to go home, take a shower and change pants.

Justin Hollingsworth, Ph.D. was certain that the automotive grease was the work of Henry Tosich, Ph.D., the resident prankster of the professors and researchers at the university. Henry Tosich, Ph.D. had pranked him many times over the years but this was by far the most annoying prank of them all. It would take a lot of thinking to come up with a reciprocal prank.

Squatting down near the floor, Justin Hollingsworth, Ph.D. ran his hands over the seat cushion and back support. There was no grease or any other detectable substances. He inspected the underside of the seat then spun the chair around in both directions. Everything seemed okay so he very gingerly sat down.

He then carefully opened all his desk drawers to make sure there were no tarantulas or snakes in them. Everything seemed in order so he booted up his laptop. He would have to think of a revenge prank later. He had a lot of work to do.

Just then a knock sounded on his office door. Justin Hollingsworth, Ph.D. got up and walked over to the door. Opening it, he saw Bucky Howell, a former dormitory roommate from college. He had not seen Bucky in over a decade.

Bucky pointed at the name plate on the door, “Justin Hollingsworth, Ph.D. Pretty fancy schmancy. I see all your dreams back in college have come true.”

“Uh… yeah. Please come in. Have a seat.”

Bucky sat in the comfortable chair in front of the desk and Justin Hollingsworth, Ph.D. very carefully sat in his new desk chair behind the desk.

“So Bucky, I haven’t seen your name on any of the bestseller lists. Did you ever become a writer like you wanted to in college?”

“Oh, sure. Absolutely. You bet. I’ve got three novels published as well as a couple of books of poetry. The New York Times bestseller list has eluded me thus far but I’m getting there.”

“So where are you living now?”

“In Portland. I went back to my home town.”

“So why did you travel all the way down here to see me?”

“Well… uh…” Bucky squirmed in his seat. “The thing is… I’ve come up with an outrageously brilliant revolutionary idea but to make it work I need the help of a scientist — and you’re the only scientist I know. Heck, you’re just about the smartest guy I know.”

Justin Hollingsworth, Ph.D. swallowed, “Uh… so what’s this idea?”

Bucky sat up straighter in his chair, “You know how when we dream we have all these exciting adventures and we go through all these crazy stories? I don’t know about you but my dreams are off the charts. They’re mind-blowing. I can never come up with such exciting stories when I’m awake…”

Justin Hollingsworth, Ph.D. said nothing.

Bucky continued, “But when I wake up, go pee then fix coffee the dreams quickly fade away and by the time I’m halfway through my first cup of coffee I’ve totally forgotten the dreams. It’s so frustrating. I mean I’m a writer and my dreams are a mother lode of stories that I could use for writing stories when I’m awake, right? So I thought, What if I could record my dreams WHILE I’m dreaming them?”

Justin Hollingsworth, Ph.D. said nothing for a long moment then finally asked, “How on earth do you propose to do that?”

“Well, that’s where you come in. That’s why I need a super smart nerd — no offense. Okay, this is my idea: We need some kind of device hooked up to a computer with a special program. Before I go to sleep I attach one of those electrode thingies to the tips of all my fingers. I’m an expert typist. I don’t have to look at a keyboard to type. My fingers know which keys to stroke for every letter and number. So while I’m asleep and viewing the stories in my dreams I can move my fingers as though I’m typing on a keyboard and the impulses from the electrode thingies go through a wire to the computer and the program determines which letters I’m typing and when I wake up my description of what I’m experiencing in the dreams is all typed out on the computer.”

Justin Hollingsworth, Ph.D. took off his glasses and set them on the desk. He then forcefully rubbed his entire face with both of his hands. It was the most ridiculous idea he had ever heard of. There were so many reasons the idea would never work. Of course Bucky probably would not understand any of them. After all, he was just a writer. Putting his glasses back on he decided to come up with a simple, practical reason…

“Bucky, I see a problem with this.”

“Yeah?”

“Nowadays people don’t type. I don’t think typing is even taught in schools anymore. With smart phones everyone now types with their thumbs.”

“Oh, that’s disgusting; typing like a… like a… like some chimpanzee in the forest. It might be okay for ordinary people but writers need to know how to type — and there are a lot of writers out there.”

“Everyone and their mother, I hear.”

“That’s just crazy. A writer who doesn’t know how to type? That’s like… that’s like… that’s like a NASCAR driver who never learned how to drive!”

Justin Hollingsworth, Ph.D. let out a mild chuckle, “Yeah, well nowadays there are some writers who write with their thumbs. There are even devices that writers can simply talk into and their spoken words are turned into text words on a screen.”

“That’s sacrilegious! But don’t you see? If we could invent this way of typing in our sleep then every writer in the world will want to be able to type so they’ll learn so that they can tap the vast reservoir of their dreams. Heck, everyone will want to learn to type.”

Justin Hollingsworth, Ph.D. suddenly had a little brilliant idea of his own. He leaned back in his new office chair and folded his arms across his chest, “You know what Bucky?”

“What?”

“The more I think about it, the more I believe you’ve indeed got a brilliant idea. I know I would love to record my dreams as I’m dreaming them. But this isn’t really my area of expertise. What you need is a neuro-scientist. Luckily I happen to know one of the very best ones in the world. And he works with a very talented computer program. If anyone can build this invention it would be him and his colleague. I bet he would be thrilled to hear your idea.”

“Really? Wow. That would be awesome. So where is this neuro-guy?”

Justin Hollingsworth, Ph.D. smiled, “You’re in luck. He’s up on the fourth floor in room 402. His name is Henry Tosich, Ph.D. Go tell him your idea. You can tell him I sent you.”

Bucky jumped to his feet. Smiling and very excited, he shook the hand of Justin Hollingsworth, Ph.D., “Justin, you are so awesome. Thank you so much. I just knew you would help me.”

After Bucky left the room Justin Hollingsworth, Ph.D. leaned back in his new office chair and put his feet up on his desk. He smiled for a long time.

Copyright by White Feather. All Rights Reserved. This is a work of fiction. Stories by White Feather

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