Channeling Woo Woo

Patty here…

She lived in a house made of river stones beneath a massive power grid and answered the door in a taffeta dress the color of lapis lazuli. A diamond ring adorned each finger of her hand. She gestured for me to sit at the dining room table, after which I busied myself setting up the tape recorder I’d brought along to capture her words.

“I doubt if that will work,” she said, pointing upward toward the power lines. “You’re better off just taking notes.”

Reverend Gloria was a channeler who’d been recommended by a friend who warned me she would cancel my appointment at least once (she did) but that her reading would be amazing (it was). My first novel had not yet been released, and I was unsure of what the future held. I’d been to psychics and intuitives before, so I went to see her with an open mind, eager to hear what she had to say.

She began by telling me I’d be going on a trip to Hawaii. I’d been to the islands several times before and had no plans to go again, so I sloughed off the comment until she mentioned Hawaii two more times during the reading, insisting that a trip was imminent. At that juncture in my life, I was collaborating on a screenplay with a friend whose husband was a producer. We’d talked about filming in Hawaii, so I wondered if Reverend Gloria was seeing our success with the project.

During the hour I spent with her, she spun a gripping tale about my past life. She told me I was an actor who’d died in a tragic accident in my prime, a fall from the stage. Something was wrong about the fall. Perhaps it wasn’t an accident at all. She also told me there was someone named “Rose” who was my spirit teacher, a motherly person whom I would hear speaking to me whenever a clock chimed. I thought, Yeah, whatever. Still, I was working on my second novel and because of her comment I named one of the characters Rose and tacked on the last name of Miller for no particular reason.

Some time later after the details of Reverend Gloria's reading were merely a dim memory, I made a trip to Washington State to see my parents. My mother wanted to visit the cemetery to pay homage at her brother’s grave, which was located on a hill overlooking the valley. It had been some time since I’d been there, but I was certain I’d never forget the view from his final resting place.

I stopped the car on the cemetery road and strolled through the grass, counting gravestones until I reached the spot where I was certain I’d find my uncle’s grave. I gestured for my mother to follow. As she walked toward me, I glanced down. A twitchy angst prickled my skin as I read the name carved into the stone. It was Rose Miller.

Some months later my father died. For years, he would periodically make me reconfirm my promise to have his body cremated and his ashes scattered—in Hawaii. Here’s the post I wrote about that trip.

Any woo-woo experiences you want to share?

p.s. I read my Astrological Forecast in the newspaper every day. Here's one of my favorites posted on Friday, October 5, 2007. "Your crisp style is lauded by...well, no one except this humble horoscope column. But, in time, your circle of friends will be able to appreciate the smart way you convey your ideas."

Jeez, thanks for sharing.

p.s.s. Here's the December 2007 cover of Ellery Queen Mystery Magazine. My short story "Party's Over" is included and--omigod!--my name is on the cover. I am SO jazzed! Now, would somebody please tell Humble Horoscope Columnist?



To help me expand my circle of friends, click on the envelope icon below and forward this post to everybody you know, because my mother knows where you live.