While waiting for my coffee yesterday, I picked up the Women’s Weekly (at least, I think it was the Women’s Weekly... I really wasn't paying that much attention) to peruse while I waited. I turned to the Psychic Advice page, because I always love the way the “renowned psychic” answers questions like “should I leave my violently abusive husband?” with advice like “the spirits tell me you should check into to your nearest women’s shelter, where you will finally be safe”. Well, duh...

Anyway, one letter caught my eye. No, that's a fib. It cracked me up. It went something like this:

I am a psychic, trying to get my psychic business off the ground. I want to run an agency with other psychics so we can find lost people and help the police solve crimes. Why is my business not working?

Puzzled Psychic

Hmmm... Now I’m no psychic, but I could offer you a few suggestions, Puzzled...

1. You had to ask another psychic
2. Australian police have categorically stated that they do not accept assistance from psychics. This was in response to an Australian TV show Sensing Murder in which self-professed psychics attempt to crack unsolved murders, and made comments like “I can feel the violence here“ while standing in the middle of the identified crime scene. Really... the stuff of goosebumpsJ.
3. The last cop who tried it, an Australian Federal Police officer, was suspended following his seeking the aid of a "clairvoyant" in regards to death threats made against Prime Minister John Howard. A federal police spokesman said they do "not condone the use of psychics in security matters." You could find this out by checking Wikipedia. Or your local newspaper. It was headline news at the time.
4. You had to ask another psychic. Perhaps you should have checked Wikipedia first. Or your local paper.
5. It is possible you're not the shiniest bauble in the Christmas decoration box, which might cause you serious credibility issues when trying to present your credentials to your local police chief.
6. Local Police Chief will be suspended from duty if he hires you.
7. And you had to ask another psychic, dude... I mean... think about that...

By the way, the answer from the “renowned psychic”? A delicate suggestion that Puzzled Psychic protect him/herself from dangerous evil spirits on the other side before progressing any further with the Business Plan.

A gentle reminder about the number of excellent decaffeinated brands available on the market, might also have been prudentJ

Ever since I started writing The Tide Lords, I have worried than I won't be able to pull of the ending I have in mind. I've worried that it won't work, won't be believable or simply that I won't be able to do my Very Clever Idea justice. 

My first Beta Reader came back with her comments last night. This is the first person besides me to discover how the book (and the series) ends.

Her comment...

Wow.

 No, nothing else, just wow!

I can live with that.

What I should have been doing this last weekend, instead of finishing The Chaos Crystal, was attending the christening of one Jason Arthur Lilley, who is (or at least is meant to be) my godson.

Because I had to bail on the christening which was interstate and involved several days of travel (because nowhere is easy to get to from here), and I couldn't afford to take the time off and still meet my deadline, I suggested to Jason's parents that they get someone to stand in for me and that I would be there in spirit.

(I also suggested that if they wanted anything particularly expensive as a gift, now was the time to ask, because guilt is a wonderful motivator... does Jason need a car?)

Anyway, they took me literally. They took "spirit" to mean "soul" and this morning I got the following email:

I thought you might like to see the photo of Sari, in church about to sell your soul ... after much discussion amongst your minions, it was unanimously decided that souls in general may be sweet little glittery baubles, the Overlady's soul would be a sumptuous glittering green ball, engraved with a purple dragon.

So, it's official. I have had my soul sold (say that quickly 3 times, I dare you!). And it's shiny.

Let this be a lesson to you kiddies... this is the cost of working when you should be partying!

Wish I'd been there.... :(

Picture this...

I am standing at the checkout of a major supermaket chain at 5.00 pm. The place is packed. I have bought a few items for dinner that evening, among them, a 500 ml bottle of chocolate milk for Dace.

I pay for the groceries. Dace snatches the chocolate milk out of the bag, but can't get the lid off.

Did I mention I am wearing a white jacket?

He hands me the milk, with the request that I open it for him.

I told you I was wearing white, didn't I?

You can guess what happened next. I open the choccie milk. It goes everywhere... all over me, all over my glasses, the floor and, more importantly, all over my white jacket...

I am standing there, in the middle of the supermarket, literally dripping in chocolate milk.

Dace's comment?

Without missing a beat, he eyes me up and down and says, "Damn. Now there's only 400 ml."