Another memoir, this book was originally just going to be a record of psychic happenings in my life, written for my grandchildren. By the time I was half way through I realised it was going to be another book.

I was ridiculed as a young child so then learned not to tell people about things that happened to me. It was my secret and it is only in the last eighteen months that I have started coming out of the psychic closet.

The book begins when I was three years old, recovering from a severe bout of whooping cough and I saw a man beside my bed. My mother had just left the room, closing the door and I could not understand how he got into the room without opening the door. He came to visit me quite often and I started thinking he must be made of rubber and that he flattened himself to come under the gap under the door. I called him the rubbery man.

The cover picture of “Coming Out’ is a painting of me, by local Pomona artist, Leigh Hooker. She copied an old black and white photo for the painting. There is story behind the picture. I had arranged for a man to come and take a family photo, but on the morning the photographer was due, my brother came and asked my husband to go fishing. Well of course he was going to choose fishing over waiting to have a photo taken. He went and I was upset he was not going to be in the photo.I hung the photo on the wall on his side of the bed. Whenever we moved to another home, I would again hang the photo of myself and our children on the wall, where he would see it as soon as he woke in the morning. He never said anything, but after many, many years of seeing the photo as soon as he awoke, finally, two months before he died he said, “I am so extremely sorry I went fishing that day, I should be in the photo. I feel really sad that I am not in the photo with you. I should be there.”