The psychic medium business is big business these days.

Any casual glance at the television entertainment listings will tell you that. Turn your dial to Ghost Whisperer, Crossing Over, The Dead Zone, Pysch or, of course, Medium.

"Business readings" and "corporate auras" are even a new trend in the marketplace, as some national companies are employing psychic consultants to advise CEOs and boards on business strategies. (Seriously, read The Wall Street Journal.) The paranormal is becoming, well, normal. It doesn't take a clairvoyant to recognize a business trend, as Web sites proliferate to help mediums build their economic base: One such site offers "Tools to Help You Grow Your Psychic Business," with lessons in promotional tips and distribution of flyers (for some reason, Home Depot and Lowe's are particularly hot markets to distribute promotional brochures"”perhaps frustrated homeowners in search of supernatural inspiration to insulate their attics?).

However mystical the product, the laws of running a small business still apply. "A lot of it has to do with smart business practices," writes Kristin Miller, the editor of the national Psychic Reader. "Advertising, visibility, and being good at what you do, of course." The thought of going bankrupt is a disturbing notion for any psychic. ("What?" the cruel jokes would circulate. "She didn't see it coming?") Yes, the pressure is on psychics. They've got to be accountants, public speakers, down-to-earth business managers and communicate with other worlds.

Two such local entrepreneurs are Jill Bruener of Angel Speak Psychic Readings (sometimes heard on MOJO 94.9) and Vicki Veil at Vickiveil Psychic and Medium (sometimes heard on WSAI radio). On a trip to an aging building, the Ensemble Theatre in Over-the-Rhine, we asked both to determine what could be learned from the historic structure.

With the generous cooperation of Ensemble Director D. Lynn Meyers and her staff, the pair toured the building and reported definite "disturbed energies." Not a haunting, per se, but a definite "imprint" that played over and over again. The two women spoke of disparate souls and unfinished business, then got to specifics.

The psychics began to reveal, layer by layer, some of the fascinating historical personalities who had occupied the structure over the years, long before it became a theater. They detailed specific construction accidents ("a man hanging upside down on an electrical cord") and stories about family members who had lived here when it was a home in the 1800s (one stage employee confirmed their impression of a grandfather who sold produce at Findlay Market).

Wandering backstage from dressing rooms to what is, frankly, a creepy basement, we heard about a Mosley safe robbery and the structure's brief life as a printing company. Even Meyers seemed impressed at the du'™s specific descriptions of late actresses and departed stagehands (one with a pronounced limp) who were regulars of the theater in their day. One Ensemble staffer"”who at first reluctantly, then enthusiastically, joined the journey through time"”admitted, "Now, it doesn't feel like we're alone."

What can we all learn from this kind of can-do spirit? That certain tried-and-true business practices can be applied to any type of business, certainly. That the entrepreneur in all of us often begins with an odd notion, an offbeat talent, a calling that yearns within us. Only these particular entrepreneurs must build customer loyalty and brand awareness when their product is the mysterious.  Never an easy task, in any dimension.