Extrasensory Phenomena

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: True Confessions  |  House: Booksie Classic

Paranormal experience accesses previously dormant memories in hidden regions of the human mind.

Submitted: December 04, 2017

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Submitted: December 04, 2017



Alien Abduction is the best expedient by which to learn how to write a novel, because the format or set of rules and procedures are extrasensory in nature. As a matter of fact, I hesitate to use the word ‘learn’ because it’s closer to the truth to describe attaining novel writing skill as an evolution of the spirit, so have yourself a real-life paranormal experience, like what happened to me.

This is the true story of how I became a novelist. About four years ago, I had the back sliding glass door of our house open and was standing there looking out into the chill of an autumn night. On the eastern horizon I saw two bright stars that I did not recognize. I watched for several minutes to make sure I wasn't merely seeing a distant plane or helicopter.

After this span of time confirmed in my mind that what I was seeing was not accountable by ordinary explanations, I became intensely focused on the eerie lights in the eastern evening horizon. For a number of years I've been watching the night sky during all seasons, so I'm familiar with the patterns, stars, constellations, planets, or even when there are meteor showers or comets.

On the night in question there were two bright stars side by side that I had never before seen. I knew that two stars couldn't just materialize in space from out of nowhere. You can imagine how shocked I was when the two mysterious stars started slowly moving, getting bigger and closer together! I was gazing in awe and with a slight amount of creeping fear at the bizarre celestial phenomenon.

At that exact moment I heard a sound in the fig trees. I glanced quickly toward the noise because it was very close to me. When I looked back up at the eastern horizon, the two haunting bright stars that had begun to move were gone! I couldn't believe it! I was so agitated with myself for glancing away from the sky even for a brief moment.

The sound that was getting closer to me was a possum that usually came out foraging around under the fig trees as soon as the last faint traces of twilight had faded all the way into total night.

A strong pungent odor like cinnamon heavy with cloves hit me in the face. The front door of our house was several paces behind me and up the three steps that led from the sunken fireplace room into the hall that entered the foyer at the main entrance of the home. I had the uncanny sensation that the front door was slowly opening. I felt anxiety, alarm, fear.

I was menaced with a sinking shadow of dread that stirred in me a dark terror of primal origin.

I struggled hard to turn quickly to see what was opening the front door, but my halted movements were inexplicably slow. The whole house was shaking violently. The fuzzy rug upon which I stood with socked feet felt like it was being yanked from under me. I experienced a disconcerting sensation of weightlessness as though I were in free fall. My limbs felt as useless as if they had wet sandbags strapped to them. In an agony of slow motion I finally managed to get myself turned to face the front door. For a moment, everything was blurry and still vibrating loudly, then suddenly all was calm and stable.

I saw my family grouped together just inside the door. It puzzled me as odd that they would cluster in such a manner. It was not normal for them to do that. They were all looking directly at me in dead silence.

I didn’t think my head had quite recovered from the violent shaking. I was feeling dizzy again. To aid my balance I reached for the sliding glass door. The clammy skin of my bare hand happened to touch the cold metal handle which, due to my socked feet rubbing the fuzzy rug, ignited a sharp spark of static electricity. I felt the quick sting of electric shock.

During that unexpected moment of electrical discharge, the people that I thought were my family began acting weird. They started asking me if I felt all right. They told me I looked like I might need to lie down and rest for awhile. One of them held up a hand and asked me how many fingers I saw. My innards were racked by a burning wave of sickening nausea at what I did see….three fingers - not merely three fingers held up with the other two turned down toward the palm; the hand I saw had only three abnormally long thin fingers.

The shapes of my family fluctuated like a screen flicker. During the brief fluctuation, the natural human physiology I was accustomed to seeing twitched between human and the horrid iconic alien entity physiology. I saw big ovate craniums and large almond-shaped dark eyes.

They were whispering in an unknown tongue, but when the flickering stopped and I was again looking at the suspicious group I thought were the people of my family, I managed to hear an authoritative voice say, “I think he’s coming out of it, we better leave.”

I woke up on the sofa with someone touching my arm. It was my sister. She was leaning over me saying that she and the rest of my family were going out to eat. She said they hated to wake me, but were wondering if I might like to go to Rodeo’s with them. I just stared up at her in dumbfounded silence. She shrugged her shoulders and walked toward the front door muttering sarcasm about me being a weirdo ever since that baseball had hit me in the head during a little league game back in fourth grade. My family walked out the front door leaving me alone in the silent stillness of the empty house.

Ever since that macabre experience there have been two radical changes in my behavior. One is the fact that I never previously liked eggnog or buttermilk, both of which I now have an incomprehensible craving for. The other radical change in my mental composition is that though I had never written a novel before that fateful night, now I cannot stop writing novels. In four years I have written four novels. So, if you want to become a masterful novelist, be abducted by aliens.

Another otherworldly extrasensory path for attaining brilliant heights of novel writing skill is to be the sole survivor of a jet airliner exploding in midair over a Czechoslovakian village like what happened to Vesna Vulovic. While the other passengers and crew were sucked out of the shattered fuselage into arctic freezing high altitude air, Vesna Vulovic was trapped in a section of the plane by being jammed in behind a food cart. Vesna, paralyzed with unimaginable panic, plummeted an unbelievable 33,000 feet to gain the world record for surviving the longest free fall without a parachute.

When Ms. Vulovic boarded that ill-omened flight to Belgrade, it was an eerie twist of fate. She lamented that she should not have been there due to the foreboding fact that another flight attendant, also named Vesna, was supposed to be on the roster.

Such harrowing experiences of extrasensory paranormal phenomena will open wide the doors of conceptual literary narrative perception endowing you with the ancient occult power of knowing how to write novels.


The extrasensory secrets revealed by paranormal investigator Sean Terrence Best are conveniently available to you via Amazon.com, Barnes&Noble, and many other booksellers!

© Copyright 2018 Sean Terrence Best. All rights reserved.

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