The most fortunate psychic-turned-writer that I’ve ever heard of was Pearl Curran, a St. Louis housewife. She never had to study writing at all, never even had to rewrite. Her writing career began when she started fiddling with the Ouija board. “Oh, why let sorrow steel they heart?” the Ouija board spelled out. “Thy bosom is but its foster-mother, the world its cradle, the loving home its grave.”
In July, the true author, the spirit who had delivered the flowery lines spelled out her name—Patience Worth, a seventeenth century Quaker. Louise discarded the Ouija board for a pen and paper and continued channeling (receiving messages) from Patience until Pearl’s death in 1938.
Through Pearl, Patience channeled her plays, poems, and novels, most published to critical acclaim. (Oh, that Patience would give me the time of day!) There was a lot of doubt as to whether Pearl was really channeling. After all, she may have had that talent locked inside her, waiting for the right moment to emerge. Even the naysayers were bowled over in 1928 when Pearl, who transcribed in modern prose what Patience supposedly told her, channeled a medieval bucolic poem, an idyl called Tekla that historians agreed was written in an Anglo Saxon dialect dating back before the thirteenth century. Since Pearl had very little education and could never have done this on her own, Tekla was considered proof that the prolific writing was indeed coming to her from Patience.