Climate Change


our street during isaac, 2012


My family moved from Caracas, Venezuela to South Florida in November 1963, the same year that Kennedy was assassinated. I was in boarding school in Massachusetts when that move took place, and spent my first Christmas in the U.S. that December. I hated it, hated that I didn’t have a chance to say a proper good-bye to Venezuela, the place where I had lived for nearly 17 years.

In the years since, my relationship with this state has morphed from disdain to love. Florida is home. It has been the setting for most of my novels. I love this state’s diversity. I love the fact that I can drive through some cities and neighborhoods and never hear a word of English. I love its access to the Bahamas, the Caribbean, South America.

When my parents moved to Boca Raton in 1963, the town consisted of three stoplights. As of 2013, Boca’s population was nearly 90,000. In 1963, there were still mangroves in the Intracoastal canal – my parents lived across the canal from one of them. Mangroves still existed along the South Florida coast. These wild thickets that survive in briny water are natural buffers against hurricanes and the erosion of the beaches.

Today, most of the mangroves are found in the ever shrinking Everglades. With the Atlantic coast buried in high rises and asphalt, construction has moved farther and farther west, encroaching on the Everglades. Our town, Wellington, used to be part of that wilderness. Melaleuca trees were brought in to soak up the water, canals were built were built to manage the water levels, dirt was brought in to elevate the land.   Welcome to suburbia.

When we first moved here 16 years ago, Rob and I would spot foxes on our bike rides. We would hear the disturbing roar of alligators mating every spring. Because we’re so close to the Everglades, we were treated to some of its wildlife. But not anymore.

In 2012, a band of violent weather from Hurricane Isaac stalled over our area for several days and the rain was so extreme our neighborhood flooded. The drainage systems couldn’t get rid of the excessive water fast enough.   The water rose through our yard, almost to our front door. We were stuck in the house for two days.


In Miami Beach, it doesn’t even have to rain for this happen. It just has to be high tide.

When my family moved here, the hottest months were June to September or October; we could count on beautiful weather the rest of the time and that meant temperate nights and no air conditioning. In 2015, March, April, and May were the hottest ever recorded in South Florida since the late 1800s, when such records were started. 2016 has already set heat records here and may go on record as the hottest year ever.

If the Arctic continues to melt, as it’s doing at a much faster rate than scientists predicted, most of South Florida can expect to joint the ranks of Atlantis. The middle of the state may fare better. Orlando is 82 feet above sea level. Gainesville, where the University of Florida is located, is 151 feet above sea level. These areas may survive the encroachment of the oceans as islands.

Several years ago, I started a Mira Morales novel where her husband, Wayne Sheppard, was flying a small plane back to Tango Key from Homestead, and got caught in a violent storm. He subsequently ended up flying into a future where climate change was a reality. The story depressed me so deeply that I stopped writing it.

Climate change deniers are abundant among U.S. politicians. Trump is one of them. He just can’t imagine Mar del Lago sinking beneath the sea. Former senator Marco Rubio surveys the ruin in the streets of Miami Beach on a sunny day and says the drains have backed up, that’s all.   Florida’s Governor Rick Scott is of the same ilk; he forbade agencies in the state to use the words climate change or global warming.

So, here we are in late September 2016, where our weather forecast reports temps in the 90s, with humidity nearly that high, and a little addition called feels like. And that figure typically falls in the triple digits, usually between 102-105 degrees Fahrenheit.

Time to move? Probably. But if you run from what you fear, does that thing follow you?












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Mercury Turns Direct!


Today, at 1:31 a.m. EDT, Mercury turns direct in Virgo. Finally.

For us, this was a strange Mercury retro. Since Mercury rules my sign, because I’m a Gemini, these periods are usually surreal for me. Weird things happen. Annoying, time-consuming things.

One day, for example, I decided I’d better set up my own Skype account so that I wouldn’t have to tie up Rob’s computer for two radio interviews I’ll be doing for my astrology book, Biggest Book of Horoscopes Ever, scheduled for September 23 and 27, and October 26. This should be a simple process, right? You download the Skype app, pick a name, answer some questions, and voila! There it is, a technological miracle at your fingertips. You can talk to anyone, anywhere in the world, for free.

But that’s not what happened for me. It turned out I already had two Skype accounts (which I apparently set up in 2011 and don’t recall doing) and when I clicked on one of them, all my emails went haywire. Computer, laptop, iPad, phone. It took me three hours to set up Skype and I still don‘t know if it actually works!

Rob and I published books on the same day, September 13. This was actually a synchronicity, not planned, not foreseen. The publication date for The Biggest Horoscope Book Ever had been planned for months by the publisher. The publication date for The Lost Tribe happened to be the date that David Dodd from Crossroad, finished formatting the book and uploaded it to the various websites. Two books in one family, published on the same date, in the middle of a Mercury retrograde – even though we know better.

This wasn’t a retro about cars going haywire. Or screw-ups in travel. It wasn’t the usual stuff where you lose your wallet, your credit cards, your spouse, your pet, your phone…although we did have a phone incident.. This retro was mostly about technology and communication. Like a modem that had to be replaced. And that’s certainly about technology and communication. And I guess the phone story belongs under communication.

Most afternoons when we go to the local dog park with our pooch, Noah, we have our phones with us. On this particular day, several hours after returning from the park, around eight at night, Rob suddenly poked his head in my room. “I think I left my cell at the dog park.”

It’s dark outside, the park closes at dusk. I imagine us having to scale the fence, getting arrested for trespassing…. “I’ll check the location app.” It’s called Find My Phone and it located Rob’s phone in or near the dog park. We weren’t sure. The map doesn’t lend it self to an infinite expansion!

“I think it’s on the picnic table under the trees,” he said.

I hoped so. Because that park was really dark and our flashlight was really puny. While he moved around our usual spots, looking for his phone, I called his number. The first time, it went to voice mail. The second time, a young woman answered and it turned out that yes, she had Rob’s cell. She’d left him a message on Facebook, which he hadn’t seen, and lived about a mile from the park. We were more familiar with her dog than we were with her, picked up the phone, and that was it. This situation, of course, could have turned out much worse – a stolen cell, websites hacked, bank accounts plundered and, because it had rained, a cell phone destroyed.

The fact that none of these things happened left me optimistic. As an astrologer, I know the possible effects of a Mercury retrograde. But as a human being, I’m forever grateful when the worst case scenarios for a Mercury retrograde don’t happen.

What about you all out there? How were your Merc retros?





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Huntrodd’s Day


Chances are many of us here did not know that yesterday was Huntrodd’s Day, a celebration of chance and coincidence every Sept. 19. I too was one of the uninformed. But thanks to Professor David Spiegelhalter, creator of the day, now I know. (I actually learned about it from Phil Blackwell at Online Bingo mentioned in the post yesterday.)

David’s title is Winton Professor for the Public Understanding of Risk at Cambridge University. He’s a statistics guy, more into randomness than meaningfulness, and he has amassed an impressive collection of more than 4,000 coincidences as part of the Cambridge Coincidences Project. Good going!

He’s said to be one of the UK’s most respected statisticians and has appeared as an expert on multiple television shows and in 2012 hosted BBC Four documentary, Tails You Win: The Science of Chance. He also has been elected President of the Royal Statistical Society, a position he assumes in January.

Curiously, David says that coincidences “don’t happen to me, as a I am spectacularly unobservant and unfriendly.” Well, he is a statistics guy, after all. Here’s a brief interview I swiped from the OB site.

OB: You describe Huntrodds’ Day as a celebration of chance and coincidence. Why do you think people find coincidences so fascinating?

DS: I think we all find it very difficult to accept things happen for no reason: so when we see a surprising concatenation of events, it provokes an urge to understand ‘why’?

OB: What are your top three tips for people looking to experience more coincidences in their lives?

DS: Be observant and mindful. Talk to strangers. Be curious.


Unfortunately, OB did not ask David about the origin of the name for the day. So I had to look it up elsewhere. I found the answer appropriately at

Francis Huntrodds and his wife Mary, buried together in Whitby, died within five hours of one another on their 80th birthday – their joint 80th birthday. They were both born on September 19th 1600, and both died on September 19th 1680. And, for completeness, got married on September 19th too.



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Animated Synchros



The other day, I received an email from Phil Blackwell, who said he’d come across the blog while searching for examples of synchronicity and coincidence.

I just wanted to give you the heads up about a new infographic I’ve created which tells the story of the 10 most incredible coincidences in history. It’s illustrated in a vivid flat style and each story is enhanced by a small animation.

 As someone with a passion for the improbable, I think you might enjoy it : )

Let me know if you’d like to check it out.

Cheers,  Phil

So, of course I wanted to check it out. Turns out that Phil is head of content at, and is responsible for creating interesting, original content around the world of bingo, odds, chance and luck. “Our 10 Unlikely Events That Actually Happened infographic celebrates the strangest and most fascinating instances of coincidence and probability, to show that even seemingly impossible things happen every day.” Online Bingo is a bingo review portal, based in St Albans, Hertfordshire.

We’ve written about a couple of these synchros, like the one at the top of this post about the choir that escaped the explosion at their church. Others, like this next one, are new to me.  I love seeing synchronicities illustrated like this and we’ll be posting more of these.





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2 Spirit Communication Stories


Both of these experiences happened to our friend and fellow writer, Carol Gorman. We recently wrote about her husband, Ed, who is in hospice, and have been exchanging emails about Ed’s condition.

Hi, Trish.

Here are two experiences that changed my life. The first one happened on Christmas Day, 1984. I had recently been diagnosed with MS; I had all the symptoms: spasticity in my legs, blindness in my right eye, the strength in my left arm disappeared after getting into a hot bath, something I can’t spell called “lair-MEETS sign” that sent electrical impulses up my back when I tipped my chin down to my chest. I thought my active life was over, and I was terribly depressed.

Then Ed found a book written by a woman who had MS and had taken a year to travel the world and talk with doctors and scientists who were using diet to treat MS. I starting following the diet designed by a physician in Portland, OR who was getting a 97% success rate with people who started it immediately after diagnosis. So, I now had hope!

I had prayed for a “miracle that I could believe in.” And I was sure this was my miracle. I was driving alone down to Iowa City to spend Christmas with my family.  So I said a prayer to God, saying, “Thank you for the MS, because it brought me closer to you.” All at once, the car was filled with overwhelming love. I actually felt as if spirit was hugging me! It was so similar to the descriptions of people who’ve had NDEs; I felt totally enveloped in love. It was amazing and wonderful, and I couldn’t believe it was happening to me. It only lasted 5-10 seconds, but as I said, it changed my life.

The second one was a little more concrete. I wrote this online; I thought it was one of your blogs, so you might have read it. It happened a few years earlier in my life, about 1981. My son Ben was six. I had recently been divorced from Ben’s dad. My ex’s father had died, and it was the night after his funeral.  Anyway, he and I had never had any closure because my ex and I had split up, and I’d never seen him again.

I used to lie down on the bed with Ben when he went to bed. We’d lie in the dark and talk about his day. So that night, I said, “Let’s say a prayer, and I think Grandpa will hear us and know that we miss him.” So I said the prayer, and immediately after the prayer was over, I saw sparkles of what looked like static electricity in the air. I even heard the pops and crackles. It only last a few seconds and stopped. I wondered if I had imagined it, and I said, “Ben, did you see the lights in here just now?” He said, “What lights?” So I assumed I’d imagined it. I’d never heard of this before.

Fast forward maybe ten years. David Morrell had a book out called FIREFLIES about the death of his 16-year-old son. The night after the funeral, he went into his son’s room and sank down on the bed. And suddenly the room was filled with fireflies, and he heard his son say, “Don’t be sad, Dad. I’m well now, and I can play!” This was so similar to what I experienced–but I hadn’t heard a voice–so I tucked it away in my mind, thinking maybe the static electricity was like David Morrell’s fireflies.

Maybe 6-8 years later, I was writing novels for young readers and was invited to a book signing in a small-town library with none other than David Morrell. Nobody came (!), so I had the pleasure of sitting with David for a couple of hours. I told him I’d read his book FIREFLIES and described my experience with the lights in the room after the prayer.

He nodded and said, “That’s exactly what I saw.” And he told me that everywhere he went to lecture after the publication of his book, someone in the room would raise a hand and say that something similar had happened to him/her. He said that Father Andrew Greeley had written him after reading FIREFLIES and told him that about 85% of the grieving people he counsels report contact with the person who had died.

Together, these two experiences introduced me to a new (to me) kind of spirituality, different from the Presbyterian religion that I’d grown up with. It was dramatically personal and so very loving. I wish Ed could’ve had an experience like this to help him in his preparation for his transition. I’ve talked about these things to him a lot over the years, and he’s just now beginning to open up to them. He never had criticized my beliefs and always said kindly, “I hope you’re right, honey.”

I hope he has a beautiful transition with all that love that I felt in the car that Christmas morning! I wish everyone could have these experiences, so they know that life goes on, and that they don’t have to be afraid of death.





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Back in the 1980s, Rob and I read a series of books by former journalist Ruth Montgomery. Strangers Among Us, about walk-ins, is one of her most compelling books.

From what I recall of the book, a walk-in is a discarnate consciousness, a soul, that “walks into” the body of a living person rather than going through the entire, lengthy birth and growth process. This is usually done with the unconscious consent of the living individual. The walk-in usually brings his or her own memories into the awareness of the living person.

You don’t hear much about walk-ins anymore. But CJ, one of the women who comments on our blog and has contributed a great deal of information over the years, believed at one time that she was a walk-in for a woman who had died in Chernobykl in 1986. In recent years, we haven’t heard much from CJ about this and haven’t heard from anyone else about walk-ins, until today.

Poet Sharlie West wrote today, thanking us for using her poem in the ghost ship Caleuche story  and then related a weird sequence of events she experienced about walk-ins:


“I was glad to see my poem this morning on your blog. Even if the inhabitants of the island are collectively imagining the ship, I would question why? How did it start? Something was going on for a long period. So interesting.

“About Ruth Montgomery. In the 1980s, about 1985, I was sitting by the kitchen table and read about a Psychic Fair at PG Plaza (Prince George’s Plaza). It was around Halloween, raining out, and I announced “I have to go there, right now.” I got up from the table, got in the car, and zoomed over to the plaza and literally bumped into a woman near the tables psychics had set up. An electric current went between us.

“She announced, ‘You’re a walk-in’, and proceeded to tell me her name; she was from Cassadaga. Well, the whole thing made me skeptical, and I ran from it. About a week later, my friend Josie dropped by with her boyfriend, who sat down next to me and within minutes told me I was a walk-in like his friend Ed Hager (I believe) .I went downtown DC to Yes bookstore, walked in and the owner welcomed me, “we were hoping you would join us. You’re a walk-in aren’t you?”

“I was so overwhelmed. Didn’t know what they were talking about. And so I read Ruth Montgomery’s books and any other information I could find. And I still don’t know why they were all telling me that or how that’s even possible. (I suppose I could be in denial.)

“But why the cluster?  “Certainly the world is not the simplistic place most people would like it to be. There are many layers, shadow worlds, that we can only occasionally glimpse. Synchronicity helps us understand the layers. Our minds are not bound by boundaries. The sleep state is probably closer to reality than waking is. There we can go effortlessly through boundaries.”


The synchronicity of her email for me is that I was writing the introduction to a proposal on spirit contact, which is what Cassadaga is all abut, and have found that whenever I have written about this place – a blog post, something in a book- other people come along and mention the town. Yet, the few times I’ve taken informal surveys among long-time Florida resents about what they know of Cassadaga, most of them have never even heard of it, the oldest Spiritualist community in the south. If you’re looking for a psychic reading, this is the place to go.

The first question I usually get when I mention Cassadaga is, “What’s that?” Once I explain what Cassadaga is, the responses go in one of two directions: “Oh (snicker, snicker) psychics are scams,” or “Wow, where IS this place?”

Maybe, in the end, Ruth Montgomery was right, that there are walk-ins among us, a walk-in within you or me who is helping to change the paradigm from the inside out. Or maybe it’s all just another New Age BS story. Or, even stranger, supposed it is part of the new, emerging paradigm?


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Awesome Sloth


This sloth looks like it doesn’t have a worry in the world. The pic was taken outside Rio de Janeiro by adventure tour guide Marcelo Sueth. I’m not kidding. That’s his name. Pretty close to sloth. A name synchro there, it seems. Sueth said he saw a particularly photogenic sloth just hanging in a tree, according to

After determining the animal wasn’t threatened by his presence, Sueth stuck a selfie stick into the tree and took this classic “sloth selfie.” The image has had more than 2 million hits on Instagram and elsewhere on the Internet.






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Replay by Ken Grimwood


When we moved into our present home in June 2000, we had asked the sellers if we could bring our books to the house before the closing. They said sure. They probably imagined a bookshelf. Instead, our boxed books literally filled the living room, floor to ceiling.

Today, 16 years later, our library is bulging at the seams, our desks are overrun, our iPads are crammed. If we moved, we would have to get rid of a lot of books. But many of these books are no longer in print and are not available as e-books. My collection of astrology books, for instance, has some true treasures written by astrologers who brought in new information. Our paranormal collection doesn’t rival that of George Lucas, which we saw at Skywalker Ranch around 1990, but I couldn’t part with a single volume. And then there’s the fiction…


2 chaotic bookshelves among many

“You read it, then pass it on,” says my neighbor, Annette, as she scours the shelves for something good to read.

Well, not exactly. We read it and keep it. Take Replay by Ken Grimwood. Published in 1988, Replay is a classic. Some people call it a time travel novel – and yes, there are elements of that – but it’s also about what happens when we die. The first line:

Jeff Winston was on the phone with his wife when he died.

 I’m now reading this novel for the fourth or fifth time. With each read, I learn something new about writing, plot construction, the creation of characters. Think Ground Hog Day, the 1993 movie with Bill Murray, where a man relives the same day over and over again until he gets it right. In a sense, that’s what Replay is about, except that Jeff Winston relives entire decades of his life with the knowledge of a man who lived 25 years plus in the future. And those lives diverge from the life he previously led.

The back cover copy reads: A time travel classic in the tradition of Jack Finney’s Time and Again, Ken Grimwood’s acclaimed novel Replay asks the provocative question: “What if you could live your life over again, knowing the mistakes you’d made before?” Forty-three-year old Jeff Winston gets several chances to do just that.

 Finney’s book is also one I’ve read several times. But it isn’t really anything like Grimwood’s Replay. Time and Again is true time travel, and illustrated! Replay is metaphysial time travel. Once you read it, you’ll never look at death in the same way again.

 Grimwood died in 2003, at the age of 58. He was working on a sequel of Replay. When he died, did he enter the replay?





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I dislike stories about 911 because it’s about fear, terror, and how governments often use fear to keep the populace in line. But there is value in remembering so that past mistakes are not repeated.

Here’s where we were 15 years ago: around 9 AM that day, my friend and co-author Phyllis Vega called and said, “Turn on the TV, Trish. We’ve been attacked. A plane flew into the Twin Towers.”

I watched  ten minutes of the news coverage, then ran into the garage, leaped into my car, and drove to our daughter’s middle school and pulled her out of school. I believed we were under attack.

Only later, of course, did I realize just what a mess the Bush administration had created, what a corrupt labyrinth of greed and negligence had enabled this attack to happen. This attack changed everything. Suddenly, we had Homeland Security (sounds like Nazi Germany) and the TSA, and countless other government agencies and covert activities (many of which Edward Snowden brought to light) . Suddenly, we had new enemies – not Russia or Cuba or the usual suspects, but Islamic terrorists who really hated us and sought to do us harm. Suddenly, every car I passed in our community had an American flag flapping from its hood.

I felt like I had entered an alternate reality.

The rest is a sad history. Colin Powell testified that Iraq had nuclear bombs and we invaded that country and toppled Saddam, a dictator we had put into place, and the Mideast blew up. Eventually, of course, the Bush administration became history and Obama won and has been president for eight years. And yet, not a single person in the lying Bush administration has been indicted for war crimes. W Bush has picked up painting, Cheney has gotten a new heart, and Wolfowitz is nowhere to be found. Now and then, Cheney rears his scowling ugly face to comment on something, and I turn off the TV.

Let’s be clear on a couple of things here. 911 was an anomaly, where some dudes from Saudi Arabia (our friends!?) used box cutters to bring down the symbols of western civilization – the Twin Towers, the 11 in the equation. The Bushies knew something was coming and ignored it. The Bushies used the disaster to their advantage. Certain people profited enormously because of it – Halliburton, do we hear about them anymore??

Now we’re in a new election season, where Clinton’s Iraq vote haunts her – yes, yes, let’s invade – and Trump claims that he was always against this war. Google his interview with Howard Stern, where he supports the invasion. As any reasonable person can see,  911 set us up for a police state – subtle but present, Orwellian in terms of government spying, a world changed , a paradigm shift in the making.

Personally, I prefer to live in some other reality, where people are united by their good intentions for mankind and for themselves, where the TSA is only as annoying as that mosquito at a picnic that is eventually slapped into oblivion, where those flies called Bush and Cheney and Wolfowitz are merely postscripts in history. I want that reality. I hope for it.

The enemies we have are those conjured from the political imagination. The more you focus on them, the more real and present they become and the greater their influence in your life.  How about a world where we’re all truly equal in terms of pay, services, benefits?  Where everyone has health care that is actually about care and not about profit? Where kids can graduate from college debt free? Where we really know what is in our food? These are simple, important things.

We are all connected, an Indra’s net. What affects you affects me and on down the line to infinity. Can we do this? Can we find the connective tissue, the collective thread? Can we actually bring an Aquarian age into reality?



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The Office of Alien Property


In recent years there has been repeated calls for the U.S. government to release all of its files on UFOs. There was even a conference in Washington D.C. a few years ago that focused on disclosure, the term associated with the government coming clean on what it knows.

Since UFOs are supposedly vessels under the control of alien beings, the crafts would be considered alien property. Right? Okay, that said, I have uncovered the records of the U.S. government’s Office of Alien Property. I am now going to release these records. Ta da.

Take a look right here.

You can see that that office was created in 1917 and disbanded in 1966, just as the famed Project Blue Book was preparing for termination. Coincidence?

Unfortunately, if we look close, there are no UFOs or even alien apparel listed in these files. It seems instead we’ve stumbled upon an office that confiscated property of people who were not American citizens and suspected of being enemies. I can imagine that under a President Trump’s administration this office might be reopened and people associated with certain ‘suspicious’ races and religions that don’t please the commander in chief could lose their property.

I find that scary and not exactly constitutional. Therefore, I propose that the U.S. Congress pass a law that says “From this day forward, in the event that the Office of Alien Property is re-opened, its duties will be limited to confiscating property left behind by space aliens – be they visitors, brothers, friends or enemies.”

Can we all agree?


Ironically, I first learned about the Office of Alien Property from a book called UFO HUNTERS, by William J. Birnes. He noted on page 40 that upon the death of Nicola Tesla, the Office of Alien Property seized his files, including his notes on anti-gravity. Oddly, Birnes overlooked the obvious irony.  Hello, Bill, there’s something at least semi-amusing about the name of that office. But he played it straight and humorless.



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Jupiter Enters Libra


The planet Jupiter has fascinated me ever since I learned about it in elementary school. It’s the largest planet in the solar system, eleven times the size of Earth and was known to the Greeks as Zeus, the greatest of all the gods.

In mythology, he’s portrayed as a bearded, muscular dude on a throne, clutching a thunderbolt in one hand and a bolt of lightning in the other. He presided over the Olympian community and also over the human community, his larger family. As the god of weather, he was the one who made the rain fall and who, when he was ticked off, hurled lightning from the heavens. He was considered the father of both gods and men and was the founder of royal justice and the rule of law. He had it all – charisma, humanity, and power.

The planet has a diameter of nearly 89,000 miles, but in spite of its massive size, its density is only slightly greater than that of water. Its inner core is mostly hydrogen and helium and deep within its atmosphere, pressure and temperature increase and compress the hydrogen gas into a liquid. That means that Jupiter has the largest ocean in the solar system, but it consists of hydrogen instead of water. If Jupiter ignited and became a sun, it could become its own solar system because it has so many moons – at least 50 that have been confirmed. In astrology, this helps to explain why it always does things in a BIG way.

 It’s not that Jupiter or any other planet is a conscious entity. But its archetypal energy speaks to something within us that triggers that lucky break, that alternate path, that new idea, that aha! moment when we suddenly get it, when we understand how our talents can be tapped to pursue and achieve our dreams. In an archetypal sense, Jupiter is our spiritual benefactor, that part of our higher selves that made the journey with us into physical life and is eager to help us to achieve whatever we desire. Or, as one astrologer friend puts it, Jupiter has your back.

On  September 9, Jupiter enters air sign Libra, where it will be for the next 13 months – until October 10, 2017. So Libra individuals – or those of you with a Libra moon or rising – are in for a real treat. Your life is about to expand in unprecedented ways. You’ll be in the right place at the right time, luck with tag your heels, and wherever you set your sights, Jupiter will help you get there. This transit is also great for fellow air signs Gemini and Aquarius because Jupiter will be forming a beautiful angle to your sun signs during this transit.

If you look back 12 years – from late September 2004 to late October 2005- what was going on in your life at that time? This period is when Jupiter last transited Libra and it’s likely you’ll have similar experiences. I asked my Gemini neighbor about this today. She said that in February 2005, she and her family moved next door to us, a pivotal move for them. For me, as a Gemini, my dad died during this transit, we had sufficient contracts to get our daughter through college debt free, our beloved dusky conure, Kali,  died in the aftermath of Hurricane Wilma, we traveled to the Dominican Republic. Overall, life was good.

Take a look at your natal birth chart here.  

If you don’t know your exact time of birth, enter 12 noon. The rising and the sign of your moon won’t be accurate, but you can see which planets you may have in an air sign. That planet – the areas it represents – will be highlighted.

Fire signs – Aries, Leo, and Sagittarius, will also benefit tremendously from this transit. For Aries and Sagittarius, transiting Jupiter will be forming a great angle to your sun, bolstering your endeavors and relationships in a positive, dynamic way. For Aries people, Jupiter will be opposing your sun and placing emphasis on your partnerships – business and personal. Oppositions from other planets – like Saturn or Pluto, for instance, can be challenging. But the biggest drawback from a Jupiter opposition to your sun is that you may take on too much, you don’t know when to say no.

Earth signs – Taurus, Virgo, Capricorn – will also benefit from this transit. For Taurus, the daily work area of your chart will be highlighted. Opportunities drop in your lap, but you may suddenly find that you have so much work that you have to delegate. Virgos are likely to benefit financially. Capricorns will benefit professionally.

If your natal Jupiter is in Libra, then it means you’re in a Jupiter return year – which happens about every 12 years – and oh wow, buckle up! It’s going to be a marvelous 13 months! This is when doors fly open.

So take a look at your natal chart. See where this transit will occur for you. You can check here for the meanings of the planets and what their symbols (glyphs) are.

Even if you don’t have any planets in Libra or air signs, you’ll have Libra somewhere on the cusp of one of the 12 houses. That house – which represents a particular area of your life – will benefit. Check here for the meanings of the houses.

Embrace the transit and enjoy the ride!










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Birthday Synchros


We went up to Orlando for Megan’s 27th birthday and after a wonderful dinner with more than twenty of her friends, we walked to a place called Casey’s for a drink. It had been raining off and on all day – you can see the wet streets in the above photo. The weather was  caused by what later became Hurricane Hermine. Since it was pleasant outside, some of us sat around under the awning.

Rob draw my attention to the billboard near the door. “Look at this! Megan’s birthday synchro!” The first side of the billboard:


On the flipside of the billboard, was this:


I asked the bartender if the band that night really was called Megan & Friends; he said it was. And since Casey’s had no idea the birthday group was going to drop by – or that it was Megan’s 27th birthday, this billboard counts as a double synchro!

To top it off, our favorite street magician, Richard, happened by and wowed the birthday group with his magic!













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Ed Gorman and The Writers’ Tribe



Many years ago, a writer named Ed Gorman and I had the same editor at Ballantine, Chris Cox. Ed and his wife lived in Iowa. Rob and I lived in Florida. But at some point during a trip to Minnesota, Rob and I drove south to Cedar Rapids and had lunch with Ed and Carol.

At the time, I didn’t realize how momentous this was. I didn’t realize that Ed and Carol would become one of the handful of writing couples that we know. And I didn’t realize just how reclusive Ed is. But I loved them both immediately and over the years, Ed and I have kept in sporadic touch.

For a long time, Ed edited Mystery Scene Magazine. He worked with book packager Marty Greenburg and employed a lot of writers for short stories, articles, ghostwriting projects. Ed was an underground railroad, rescuing writers who were floundering, in need of projects, writers struggling to adjust to the rapidly changing publishing landscape.

Back in the early 1990s, when I realized I needed to change agents, I went to Ed first. He recommended Al Zuckerman at Writers’ House, whom I have now been with for 22 years. In 2011, Ed told me about Crossroad Press, a small publishing house that was specializing in writers with large out of print backlists and thought it might be something that would interest Rob and me. He was right.

David Wilson and David Dodd, the two main players at Crossroad, are terrific people and they offer writers a deal that far surpasses traditional publishers in terms of royalty splits and, unlike a lot of these outfits, there’s no cost to the author for the upfront costs.

So the other day I emailed Ed, just checking in to see how he was doing. He’d had a stem cell transplant several years ago, seemed to be on a rise. He had grandkids, books were selling, life was good. Then two days passed and I didn’t hear back from him, and I felt uneasy about it. I wrote to his wife, Carol, on Facebook, and learned that Ed was in his 7th week of home hospice.

My heart broke.

Writers are a tribe. It doesn’t matter if you’re traditionally published, an Indie author, or if you’re published by an alien company on Mars. The point is always the story, the information, the thing that moves you to put it into words. The point is how you treat the people who are members of your tribe. And Ed…he has always been one of the most generous member of that tribe. I don’t know that I would have a writing career if it weren’t for him.

So please, whatever your spiritual beliefs, include Ed in your thoughts. Google him. His books are wonderful, but more than that, he is a stellar human being.






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Awesome Flash Mob

Thanks to Sheila Joshi for alerting me to  this one! Bob Marley….wow.

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