I Went to a Psychic
And this is what she said
I’m so happy to see you! How to Build a Life is a newsletter by me, bestselling author of 12 (!!) books Laura Jane Williams, going out to thousands of readers bang in the thick of life’s mess and mayhem… who are still trying to find the magic. I’m almost 40, a solo parent by choice, decorate my house like a tart’s boudoir, and lift very heavy weights. Those four things are my entire personality. Oh! And so is my new writing course for 2025! Get involved! Anyway. I really love writing to you here. Hi.
(pstttttt! My 2022 festive rom-com is currently only 99p on Kindle! Think Bavaria at Christmas, holiday markets and hot chocolates and twinkly lights and a big old movie set - because romance writer Evie Bird and lead actor in the movie adaptation of her book Duke Carlisle immediately hate each other, sure, but a PR nightmare sees them embroiled in a fake dating pact that is… Just For December. And guess what? It turns out they quite like each other after all…)
I find building a life endlessly hard - I do! - and so when a sports masseuse I trusted, because she was once able to tell me when my period was due, like a witch, mentioned a psychic who had predicted her daughter’s marriage, I asked for more information.
I’m not interested in marriage myself, I said, but like, how did you know she was legit?
I knew, the masseuse said, because she told me my daughter would have a man confess his love for her at a work Christmas party, and she would be wearing a blue dress. My daughter bought a red dress to wear to her work Christmas party, and had never said anything about an office flirtation, so I never mentioned anything. But on the night of the event she came downstairs in a blue dress because she decided the red was too much. I thought that was interesting, but I still didn’t say anything.
At breakfast the next morning, I asked my daughter about the party. She said her boss had told her he was in love with her. I asked my daughter if she felt the same. She said yes, and had done for quite some time, but nothing could happen because he was married. My daughter told her boss that if he was serious about her, he needed to sort out his situation, and maybe they could talk about a future. They’re now married with two kids.
Oh, I said. That’s interesting. Specific.
Very specific, said the masseuse. Although I of course feel sorry for his first wife.
I rang Ange the Psychic on her landline, and she had a call-blocker. I had to prove I wasn’t from a call-centre before I could be connected. I resisted asking if she was expecting me to ring, as I felt that joke had probably been done too many times before. I said, my masseuse sent me. She said wonderful, how is Tuesday? We can start with the tarot cards, do a little dousing, and if all else fails we’ll get out the crystal ball. She added that she was cash only. I got the sense she didn’t trust banks.
I walked in to her house and she said: I see money coming out of your fingertips. I said I’m an author, and she nodded, satisfied. That makes sense, she said. Three genres? I said yes, non-fiction, teen, and romance. She nodded. One of those isn’t working out, she said. Whatever project you have in your head, the one you talk yourself out of, do that one. That’s your problem, she said, I can tell, very clearly: you talk yourself out of a lot of stuff, when your job in this life is actually the opposite, to talk yourself into it. I said okay then, I can do that. I also said, could I have some more milk for this tea? It’s a bit strong for me. She laughed. I like you, she said. More women need to ask for what they want.