Shocking revelation...

So I was just over at Sarah Dessen’s journal, which I love, and she was talking about HER love of horoscopes and I had a flashback.

An ugly one.

I don’t know why I always forget about this sordid little slice of my past. Maybe I’ve blocked it out. But since we’re just getting to know each other here, I feel I ought to come out and tell you the truth:

I was a love astrologist to the stars.

It was several years ago, when I was a struggling scribe in Chicago. What I did was find out the signs of a celebrity couple, then predict the future of their love match based on the compatibility of their signs. I did this every week for a website which I will not name here because it’s owned by a powerful company, which perhaps might not like the next part of my tell-all tale: I was a total sham! I knew NOTHING about horoscopes. I got all my astrology knowledge from a cheap paperback called “Love, Sex and Astrology.” I know—shocking, but true.

Basically, I did the gig because it took only a few hours each month, yet the fee paid the ENTIRE rent on my apartment. (Granted, it was a basement apartment.) When you’re a freelance writer, responsible not only for paying the rent, but also for buying your own health insurance and just voluntarily sending money to the IRS on a QUARTERLY BASIS, you will take any gig you can get. ANY.

Plus, my horoscopes were supremely silly, and thus extremely fun to write.

I just checked and my celebrity scopes are no longer online, probably because most of those celeb-relationships have gone down in flames. I distinctly remember writing about Brad and Jen, for instance. And I think I wrote about Billy Bob and Angelina. Ha! Also, tragically, Jennifer Garner and Scott Foley. (Jen and Ben seem happy and all, but having loooooved “Felicity,” I still can’t believe Jennifer divorced The Boy Who Played Noel! I’m a big crusader for the slightly nerdy, cute-but-he-doesn’t-know-it, little bit neurotic nice guy, so I was always pushing for Noel on that show.)

Or maybe the scopes have disappeared into the ether because that was the Goofiest. Gig. Ever. Making me all the more grateful for my current one, writing the sequel to “Chicks with Sticks.” I’m grateful for it, even though I’m currently rewriting Chapter 1. Which, to realize that Chapter 1 is just wrong, all wrong when you’re almost finished with a book? That’s a tiny bit maddening.

But still 100 times better than predicting the future of Brangelina’s love.

Talk soon!

xoxo

Elizabeth