May 15, 2025

🌟 How to Steal an Afternoon

(why you should break the rules to steal one ASAP)

My favorite emails to receive are the ones I save for later, the same way I might save the best chocolate in the box for last (I’m that kid). I wait to read them in bed, rather than skimming on the computer. “Doing” email on my computer is a chore. But reading delicious emails in bed is the best—I just want to sink into them and pull them over me like my covers.

But sometimes I’m squeamish about sending my own emails. I don't want to bother anyone. It's definitely part of that "be small, be quiet" thing I inherited from the hundreds of generations of women who came before me. I like to fold myself into a nice, neat, beribboned package that won't piss anyone off if they find it sitting unexpectedly on their desktop. (But what if they don’t like blue? Should I wrap myself in purple instead?)

But I also know that no one's really bothered by emails anymore. I'm not. I subscribe to anything I want to (especially if they're offering me a discount on something good!). I unsubscribe whenever I feel like it. It's never personal. (If someone unsubscribes from my mailing list, it means they don't enjoy reading me, and it’s awesome that they self-select out. Why on earth would I want to trap someone into a place they don't want to be? I wish them the inbox freedom they deserve!)

There, now that I’ve admitted I sometimes want to be small and unbothersome, I’ll feel free to blab to you like friends do. Think of this more like a blog post.

And wow, I'd love it if my emails made your "read in bed/bath/bus" list. (As long as where you read starts with a B, apparently.)

So join me for this letter, won't you? It's been a while, and I want to tell you lots of things. Pour yourself something nice and cuddle up.

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Behind the Words

I’ve lately been trying to protect the occasional afternoon for adventures. When I’m filling out my calendar for the week, I think, Where can I build in some free time? When can I take an artist’s date?

Today I found some of that time and got on the bus. Wellington is a wonderful place for busses—they’re quiet, mostly on time, clean, and reliable. We live a block away from a bus that runs downtown every ten minutes, and I never get over how magical that is.

I didn’t have anywhere to go today, which made it even more fun. I got on and just rode. My only vague plan was to find coffee somewhere and maybe some lunch. I meant to do a little bit of writing, preferably with a water view.

The main thing is that it was a sunny day and the wind was low. Neither of those things are given now that we’re entering the cold half of the year down here in Aotearoa.

That, right there, is my favorite tree in Wellington. It’s a golden elm, and every spring I panic because it’s a little late to leaf. One year (this is completely true) I almost called the city council because the tips got green and then went brown. But then, of course, it burst into the chartreuse of summer, and I could breathe again. I say hello every time I pass it, and I make sure to pat its marvelous trunk when I walk into the Botanic Gardens. Now that it’s losing its leaves for fall, I worry about getting chilly and I might end up knitting it a lil sweater if I have the time.

I got off the bus just after the Parliament building and walked to my current favorite writing spot.

Yes, it’s a bank.

In Wellington, people fill the cafes, and they fill them together. They have morning tea, and lunch, and afternoon tea. They enter together and sit together and talk together. I think it’s a dick move to take up a table by yourself, put on your headphones, and work on your laptop. But I have to admit, I still want to write out in the world, and you know whose business I don’t care about? Big banks.

The cafe in this BNZ bank is huge, anonymous, and no one cares. I’m not getting in the way of a small business owner’s profit. It’s perfect.

So I wrote. I started this newsletter. I had a wonderful chai latte, and then I got antsy, as I do, so I headed for the water.

I worship this harbour. I swim in it at least once a week (and try for more often). Every inch of it feels like home. The mural is of June Jackson, a local legend.

I got a sandwich to eat while staring at the water, but it wasn’t very good, so I won’t tell you about it. It was fuel. Good enough.

But the disappointment of a mediocre sandwich made me need a gelato from the far side of the harbour, so I started walking.

I saw a harbour seal pup but didn’t take a picture. I didn’t see any little blue penguins but DID take a picture.

I watched these swimmers come in from their lunchtime swim.

I had a thought: You know what would be perfect? Running into a friend.

Then I ran into a friend! One of my most favorite people in Wellington was sitting looking at the water like so many others do at lunchtime. We yarned (seriously, the kids say that here: “let’s have a yarn!”) and then we got gelato together.

I’ve cropped O out because she’s more private than I am, but trust me, it’s a great pic of her delighted smile. I got dark chocolate and lamington (coconut/raspberry/cake).

Then I took the bus home and did a little more work before taking a bath. A pretty perfect afternoon.

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Work In Progress

My brain is up in the clouds, in love with the newest novel that I’m writing (historical timeline! 1920s New Zealand! queer! art!) but I’m also in the finishing throes of The Fix, my memoir about burning out/addiction. I just finished the copyedits on it, which means recording it for audiobook is the very last thing to do.

I love doing audiobooks. See also: Unstuck, my story of moving to New Zealand. I’ve also recorded A Life in Stitches and Fast-Draft Your Memoir. Available at Audible or Spotify or directly from me.

I’ve found recording is the BEST final step in editing. Even if it’s gone through multiple editors and then a copyedit and a proof, I’ll still find little tweaks I want to make, things I wouldn’t know I wanted to change until I say them out loud. Putting the emotion into the words and really living in the book one last time is incredible satisfying.

The editing is endless, though. But Lala, my wife, is going to help me with that this time! (Can you imagine, having to listen to your spouse’s voice talk about themselves for hours a day? She’s a saint. Or she will be if she survives the gig.)

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Spotlight

COVER REVEAL!

I absolutely love this new cover for The Seven Miracles of Beatrix Holland.

The thing I love best about it is that it had another cover first. It was gorgeous, black and spooky, and I thought it was great.

But then the Sales department at Grand Central Publishing/Hachette read it and said, “Hey! This book isn’t that spooky or dark! This is a cozy witchy book, and it deserves a cozier cover!”

So they came up with this and I love it.

Out August 19th! Available for preorder now! Amazon and elsewhere.

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Get This

My favorite thing from my favorite emails is recommendations, which is where I find most of the books I read and shows I watch, so here you go:

Movie:

Sinners. I’m not a horror gal, and I had to close my eyes quite a few times during this movie, but I loved it. The ending, especially, felt extremely cathartic.

Books:

Fiction: Among Others, Jo Walton

Not a new book, it won the Huge in 2012 for best novel. It’s about a Welsh girl who goes to boarding school in England and how much she loves interlibrary loan and science fiction novels. There are fairies. That’s about it. It’s gentle and beautiful and perfect.

Nonfiction: The Age of Magical Overthinking, Amanda Montell

This is a book about cognitive biases! Seriously, that’s what made me read it. I LOVE a cognitive bias, and how they make people into such funny little creatures. Totally captivating and interesting. I wished it were longer.

Podcast:

Ologies, Salugenology (Why Humans Need Hobbies) - You have to listen to this two-parter on how hobbies will save your health and maybe your life. You’ll love it.

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Hack

You know your girl loves a hack. Here’s the BEST ONE EVER.

I lost my phone. That’s not the hack. It fell out of a pocket in a rainstorm, and when I went back to where it must have fallen, it was gone. I waited a few days, hopeful, then gave up hope and bought a new one.

Hope was returned when the phone and my attached wallet were dropped in the mailbox where I used to live, a whole town over from where I lost it.

So then I had a new phone and an old one (it’s okay, it was a really old phone and never held a charge for more than a couple of hours).

HERE’S THE HACK:

It’s now my bedtime phone. I took every app except the reading and the music apps (okay and one teensy card game I play while listening to audiobooks, but that counts as reading, not wasted time!) and the alarm.

So now I have the alarm I like, the books I need, and the music I want, but no ability to dip into Reddit or Instagram or god-forbid-Tik-Tok-aka-I’m-never-sleeping-again.

I LOVE IT.

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Your reward for getting this far!

In the next email, I’ll tell you how the cat/dog integration is going (it’s hard. But it’s going).

Okay, my darlings, I wish for you an afternoon all your own, even if you have to beg, borrow or steal to get it.

Thanks for being here. It means so much to me.

love,

Rachael

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PPS - Please forgive typos. If I caught them all, I’d never send this out.

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