According to Stephen King, master of contemporary horror, suspense, science fiction and fantasy fiction, writing is nothing more than simple telepathy. I discovered his concise definition while reading “On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft,” where King shares bits of wit and wisdom with aspiring fiction writers. One of my favorites is “books are uniquely portable magic.”

I’d expand King’s concept to say that all prose—poetry, essays, news stories, even movie reviews—can be considered printed mini miracles. Through the mastery of the written word, one person’s thoughts, hopes, opinions, imagination and perspective are transported from the page into the minds of hundreds, thousands, in some cases, millions of people.

 “books are uniquely portable magic.”

King offers a simple example: “Look–here’s a table covered with a red cloth. On it is a cage the size of a small fish aquarium. In the cage is a white rabbit with a pink nose and pink-rimmed eyes. In its front paws is a carrot-stub upon which it is contently munching. On its back, clearly marked in blue ink, is the numeral 8.

“Do we see the same thing? We’d have to get together and compare note to make absolutely sure, but I think we do.”

King suggests that when a writer and a reader connect, true telepathy—a meeting of the minds–occurs. On occasion, I’ve been lucky enough attain this mental union with women who read my Woman@Heart essays. I receive e-mails and hear comments like: “How do you know so much about my life?” “Wow, I have the same things happen to me.” “I am calling you by your first name because I feel as if I know you.” “You’re writing about me.”

I’m not physically present when my words are read, but still reader and writer connect. My work crosses cities, states and time zones, to share a commonality of experiences and a unity of spirit.

“I’ve never opened my mouth and you never opened yours,” King writes. “We’re not even in the same year together, let alone the same room…except we are together.”

Yes, I agree. We are together.