{"id":1844,"date":"2024-06-21T11:10:40","date_gmt":"2024-06-21T10:10:40","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/blog.kleinwolfpeters.com\/?p=1844"},"modified":"2024-06-21T11:10:40","modified_gmt":"2024-06-21T10:10:40","slug":"calling-richard-wiseman","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/blog.kleinwolfpeters.com\/?p=1844&lang=en","title":{"rendered":"Calling Richard Wiseman"},"content":{"rendered":"

By Kristin Fehlauer<\/em><\/p>\n

I think what I do for a living is fascinating. And not just because I enjoy hovering in the space between two languages, or because I get a glimpse inside a range of industries otherwise foreign to me.<\/p>\n

No, I\u2019m also fascinated by what happens in my brain and in my body when I work. For instance, I\u2019ve been touch-typing since grade school, though of course much more frequently during my high school years and following. It\u2019s become so natural that I often prefer to work out my thoughts in this way. I sometimes talk to a customer on the phone about different ways to word a headline or a sentence, but I invariably offer to send a follow-up email with my ideas. Something about the physical act of putting words on (virtual) paper is more conducive to my creative process.<\/p>\n

This kinetic sense can betray you, though. I sometimes find myself typing a homophone of the word I actually want: \u201cknow\u201d when I mean \u201cno,\u201d for instance, as in \u201cI have know idea.\u201d It\u2019s an odd phenomenon. Why am I typing a word that sounds like my intended term instead of one that is closer in spelling? Why don\u2019t I type \u201cI have note idea\u201d?<\/p>\n

Mysterious processes are of course not limited to my fingers, but also occur in the brain. In one sentence of the second paragraph above, in the time it took me to key in \u201ctyping since,\u201d my mind called up and then rejected<\/p>\n