Off the main Ballard Avenue thoroughfare and dog parade of the Sunday Ballard Farmers Market, there’s an extension into the vacant lot between two buildings. Every week that’s where Veraci cooks pizzas in its mobile wood oven and psychic Marjorie Young gives readings; each doing what they do.

Marjorie Young has been doing readings at the Farmers Market even before its move to Ballard Avenue. Some weeks are busier than others, but there is always demand for the 10-minute for $10 readings, versus longer readings at her home.

Marjorie also does readings for pets, though not at the market. She can discern an unresolved conflict with a parent or an adopted dog’s life before the shelter.

Now, I’ve never consulted a psychic myself, but it turns out that neither has Marjorie. She doesn’t even know any. But, she hears stories about people who call themselves psychics and often claim that for additional fees they can make some karmic adjustment.

“If someone wants to sell you something like that, just get up and leave," she said.

For Marjorie, psychic abilities are simply something she’s possessed since earliest childhood. What was difficult was realizing that others didn’t see, hear and smell what she did about those in her presence.

She tried to suppress and hide her abilities, but that only intensified them. So she accepted them and trained herself to turn her psychic awareness “off” and “on” so that it was not like a television in her head that could never be shut down. Nor did she want to invade the privacy of others just because she could sense their emotions.

Raised in San Francisco after a divorce split her family, Marjorie became somewhat obsessed with Japanese films and culture. She saved her money for the trip to Japan she knew she needed to make.

Once there, she felt home in a way that had eluded her all of her life. She had always felt different than others, and in Tokyo she couldn’t be anything other than different.

During that time she taught English and worked with a parapsychology institute that studied her psychic abilities and talents as a healer.

After 20 years, her mother and stepfather’s declining health drew her back to the states, where she settled into a cozy apartment close to Ballard High School. She and her cats have been there ever since, relishing the relative quiet and ease of living in Ballard without a car.

Every morning at 5 a.m. she starts her day by running an hour-long route through the Ballard neighborhoods. Increasingly, her days are filled with writing. She is at work on book three of a saga that began with “The Boy with the Golden Eyes,” a self-published young adult story that was released in early August.

Most of the people who want a reading at the market are open to hearing from a psychic; a few are skeptical. All that Marjorie asks is that someone is willing to admit when she has told them something that is true.

There are times when she doesn’t pick up anything from the client and tells them so. But mostly the connections work, even when she does telephone readings for clients all over the world.

Marjorie has also learned to listen if a voice seems to interrupt a session, in one case repeating the word “apricots.” It turns out the client was worried about the breast cancer gene in her family and her late father was reminding her that he always believed his apricot crop could ward off cancer.

The market also provides Marjorie with the occasional “wise guy” who says, “Well how about I give you a dollar for a one-minute reading?” or, “If you can see the future, what’s the weather going to be tomorrow?” One man said to her, “But you’re so normal.”

After Sundays at the Farmers Market, Marjorie has to go home and simply rest, drained by channeling the psychic energy of others.

She doesn’t do readings for family members or close friends, but she’ll talk with them about what’s bothering them, as a friend or a sister.

Having read about my husband’s lost wedding ring she offered to visit our home and get a sense of whether it’s still here (My intuition says it’s in the compost, but I’m tempted to invite her to try to read my cats).

With her writing, as with her psychic abilities, Marjorie doesn’t feel she can take any credit or explain the gifts. They simply exist for her the way others can make music or do calculations in their head (neither of which she can do). She is simply delivering the message.

The story of Rupert, the boy with golden eyes, began as a story for her nephew’s son. She is interested as anyone to learn what is going to happen as it flows to her, a chapter at time.

Every Sunday, Marjorie carries her signboard and chair to Ballard Avenue and sets up at the market. It’s noisy, but no one seems bothered by lack of privacy or being seen with the psychic.

“No one else is watching or listening,” Marjorie told me. “The pizza people are just selling pizza."

"I just enjoy it,” Marjorie said of her role as Ballard’s psychic. “It’s always interesting and exciting. As with all blessings, this gift is meant to be shared.”

Marjorie Young can be reached at psychicmargie@juno.com. She sells copies of her book at the Sunday Market. She will be one of more than 30 participating authors at Sunset Hill Community Club’s “Authors & Neighbors: A Showcase of Ballard Writers” from 7 p.m. to 9 p.m. on Oct. 19.