I have never considered these matters as tools of my trade, but I do not doubt that they are.
William Almon Wolff: I'm afraid I don't react that way at all—or to a very limited extent. It seems to be my mind that's active, when I read. I'm much more sensitive to music than to words, so poetry and such prose as Conrad's move me. But, even so, it's what I read, rather than what moved the writer, that engages me. In other words, I'm more interested in the writer's emotions and reactions than in what stimulated them.
My imagination isn't a visual one. I don't see things with my eyes shut at all, so far as I know.
No. I was a frightful dub at mathematics, but I didn't begin to take even the foggiest interest in them until I got into trigonometry and solid geometry.
Decidedly it's the concept that I want.
Individual visions, every time.
I prefer, on the whole, to fill out details for myself.
That depends. If I'm satisfied, I surrender to the author. If I'm not, I start writing the story as I would have done it myself.
The answer to the last paragraph of this question is that I really don't know. I think the answer is no, though.
Edgar Young: I am unable to put myself in the mood of a casual reader, but watch closely how another man works, although a real artist can make me forget my critical attitude and sway me so that I feel the emotions he expresses. When I am really interested I am unable to say which of the five senses is most affected. A reaction from another writer is not a normal reaction.