Mind-control money, memory, and my journey to writing ‘The Cancer Man’

**originally posted 15/11/23**

Imagine witnessing somebody able to claim money on losing betting tickets.

That’s exactly what I did one late night in 2002 watching one of the earliest episodes of Derren Brown’s TV show Mind Control.

For those of you who’re unfamiliar with Derren Brown, he’s a fascinating, tricky-to-sum-up guy. Primarily, he is a famous psychological illusionist who has used “magic, suggestion, psychology, misdirection, and showmanship” to: 

• stage elaborate psychological experiments (think that Michael Douglas film, The Game), doing everything from manipulating average people to commit what they believed to be real bank robberies, to influencing them to take what they believe to be a real bullet for somebody they previously hated 

• perform the most convincing seances, spiritual readings, miracle healing, and religious conversions you’ll ever see only then to debunk them before your very eyes 

• dazzle with feats of memory that seem beyond the reach of human possibility 

Anyway, this episode of Mind Control showed him at the dog track getting paid out on losing tickets. Presumably having done some sort of hypnosis with the cashier beforehand, he approached their window, banged his hand on the side of it, presented them his ticket, and confidently told them, ‘This is the dog you’re looking for,’ before walking away with a handful of dough.

I never wanted to get into the con game, but was fascinated that maybe this was possible, and by many of the other feats he demonstrated.

Studying A levels at the time, I marvelled at his seeming ability to memorise things like phone books to photographic degrees. With a little online research, I found a technique called Photoreading that claimed to be able to teach such an ability, but I didn’t take the plunge for what I thought was an expensive mail-order course.

The next year, my girlfriend at the time bought us tickets for my 18th birthday to see his live show. It blew my mind. We went to the stage door afterwards, he signed our programme, and having seen him do some memory stunts, I asked him about learning the skill. He replied something like, ‘It’s not quite as it seems.’

Looking back, I see that he was trying to diplomatically warn me off studying such techniques whilst keeping his methods concealed – completely fair enough. Down the years, he has commonly talked about how even when he fully discloses his methods to people after doing sham psychic readings and the like, they still will not believe him.

And guess I didn’t, either. I bought the course. Did I develop photographic reading-memorisation skills? I’ll let you guess.

But it didn’t stop there.

In a roundabout way, I came back to some of the skills I’d developed an interest in through his work.

I learned, with tried-and-tested memory techniques, to be able to recall the order of a randomly shuffled pack of two decks of cards in just a few minutes fairly quickly, but lost interest just as fast.

But the influence skills still interested me. I didn’t want to rob bookmakers (much) but thought that learning to be a more effective communicator would be a useful skill for life.

I ended up studying some of the methods Brown mentioned he used. From the age of 20, I immersed myself in the field and its methods. I did well in various certifications with top people in the industry. I learned ways to influence the thoughts and feelings of myself and others. I met some friends for life.

But the longer I went on, the more I began to question the effectiveness of the methods, the scope of their use, and the motives of some of the people using them.

To cut a very long story short, I met multiple people who claimed that their work led to people reversing serious health conditions...

...including cancer.

I’d gotten into all these methods through the examples of an honest liar, a man who used the methods to entertain and debunk claims like these.

I had to walk away from it.

Years of time and energy and money wasted. Unlike a deck of cards, I can’t forget that, and I’ve still not come to terms with my naivety at putting so much into it all. I don’t know if I ever will.

But I’ve at least found a way for it not all to be a total waste.

Through all the training, I came to a better understanding of language and story, and where I know I can’t reverse diseases with those tools, I can at least entertain people and tickle their brains.

This is how I turned to fiction writing. It’s my version of being an honest liar.

You pick up my book, you know I’m going to spin you a yarn, and you’re fully along for the ride.

No cons, no ethical quandaries, just fun between author and reader, both of us with our eyes wide open to the arrangement.

My books The Art of the Con and The Cancer Man are born out of all of this.

If you haven’t already picked up the first of those, you can get it here for free if you sign up to my mailing list.

And I would happily approach your cashier’s window, bang my hand on the side of it, present you with either of those novels, and confidently say, ‘This is the book you’re looking for,’ without any guilt whatsoever

No hypnosis. No manipulation. No wild claims. Just stories I grafted long and hard over to make some use out of the trauma in my own life for the entertainment others with.

Give them a read.

And if by any chance know Derren Brown, influence him into giving them a read too.

Mind who you let control your mind,

Arton