A week in Evil Witches

TCOB ⚡

Did you ever wonder if I have a system for running this newsletter in the way that I do? The short answer is, no, I don’t have much of a system. Much like with laundry and with meals, I live in perpetual search for a Real Simple-like method that will just self-automate so I can churn out something enjoyable, helpful and readable that will not bore or piss people off too bad without stressing too much about it. Still looking after about six years.

I’d wanted to write a post like

Virginia Sole-Smith

did sharing how she works on her newsletter Burnt Toast, but for awhile I was a little embarrassed by how little I felt like I sat down and officially worked on my newsletter. I decided to just track a week of everything I did, and doing this helped me realize how many little things that don’t necessarily count as “desk work” go to informing the newsletter, especially moments of connection and collaboration.

I’ll never stop feeling a little insecure about my workflow and dedication, but after looking back at this exercise, I grudgingly allow that perhaps I do fine/enough. 

Here was how I spent a week in late January, at least the activities that sort of informed the content, if not the spirit, of this newsletter:

Saturday

I will spend the weekend mostly indoors because I had a nanopeel last week, and my face is nowhere near close to being ready for public consumption. At home this morning, I read in bed and do Duolingo when my husband takes the boys to flag football (he is most often the picker-upper/dropper-offer). I find out that the older brother’s team won decisively while his competitive younger brother’s team struggled and lost. I write a Substack note about how I anticipate there being a lot of sibling drama coming home after this (I’m pleasantly surprised; they play together nicely outside later.) 

On Instagram, I see that Ana Marie Cox is trying to encourage people to order Mifepristone in case they or someone else need it. I go to Aid Access and order the pills for $150. Odds are quite low I’d need them, but it feels good to be prepared in case someone else does, and also I’m curious to see if this works. 

I catch up on texts and condolence cards—it’s a heavy month. The boys get screentime, and I catch up on administrative bullshit like organizing some family photos and figuring out a sort-of meal plan for the next few days. I know I should run a cooking thread for Witches soon. I think I am waiting for the right moment or question. I wish Substack made it easier/prettier to share images/ links in the comments section. 

Sunday

I wake up and read North Woods, which is great. The premise didn’t originally grab me, but enough people said it was good—and it has that funny cat on it—I felt like I had to check it out.

I don a mask and go to Orangetheory for a workout since I am on a 3x/a month plan. I take the mask off once we’re working out and recognize a woman I went to high school with. I duck out quickly when class is over and send her a note saying it was nice to see her. 

Braving my warnings that my face looks like I am recovering from a bad sunburn, my friend Nora comes over for donuts and a catchup. I’ve known her since 2nd grade; she is my kid’s godmother. Every time I text/email her a story about my younger son, she replies with this emoji: 😇. She brings the boys these glasses which are a hit and I am recommending to anyone who needs to buy kids a fun toy.

Monday

After waking up, having some coffee and reading and making sure my younger kid eats, I start a workout while watching a Nate Bargatze special. My husband gets the kids to school around 8. 

For my client Inbox Collective, I do an interview with

Vidar Bergum

, a Norwegian newsletter producer who lives in Istanbul. He tells me about the culinary tourism tours he leads, which sounds like a cool way to make money from your publication but also something that would cause me so much anxiety.

In between all this, I text with friends. I send some friends some ‘after’ photos of my face recovery (“You looked like you were decomposing,” said my older child.) I realize what a roll of the dice it is to assume that you can take a week off to recover, the risk that you won’t be compelled to show up someplace with your face looking like hell. Is this something to write about? It’s humbling and bougie but also I bet some people out there are at least face-laser curious if not actively partaking. We’ll see. 

At 11:30 I turn on my “Witches” work timer (I time all my work, mainly so I know what to charge clients but also to just to see in general how much time I spend on things.) I check social media and the Witches email account. I work a little bit on a piece I’m playing around with about what jokes the kids would say about me if they were standup comics, inspired by some schoolwork-thing I was mad at my older kid about that morning. I make a list of some other stuff I should get to in the week ahead which are kind of sad: how we talk to our kids when they have questions about hard social issues and an open letter to our beloved aged about how we wish they would help us help them age and die well.

I contemplate sending a piece on young adults’ perspectives on youth smartphone access tomorrow but I want to see if more feedback trickles in. What will I send out tomorrow?? I sent out a question about hearing aids on Friday that was a great conversation but, again, kind of heavy. I decide to give it another day before I send something out and try to send something out this week that is fun/easy/useful. 

I send a pitch to Strategist—Witch

Julie Vick

gave me the editor’s address after I noticed she’d written for them in the past, and I reached out to her.

I have lunch, and I read my gossip links, including a Cut piece on

Joanna Goddard

who has been having a hot streak of publicity. Shout out to Jo for her hard work and always noticeable efforts to be a kind and inclusive person, which I wish I could emulate more.

I walk the dog and catch up on the Patreon episode of “Who? Weekly.” I answer an email about a 3rd grade parents fundraiser party thing and confirm with my husband he can represent us since I just busted my ass helping raise money for teacher holiday bonuses (this is a Catholic school thing and not mandatory). Spoiler: I will end up representing us on the call, but he will do the volunteering at the event.

I proofread my kid’s book summary before working on a ghostwriting project, make a plan with a friend for a meal in a few weeks, and then have dinner. Afterward we play with the dog for awhile before I get my younger son ready for bed. He has a bath and the deluxe car wash version of toiletries: ear wax removal, ear drops, nail trimming, anti-nail biting nail polish, which I should absolutely write about sometime; it’s fascinating, and it works.

Tuesday

After getting the kids to school, I go for a long walk as my workout for the day. I think about how I need to do the young adults on tech story for witches, but it seems like a lot of work, so I go home and work on my pitch to Strategist about my BedJet instead. 

Finally I do work on the phone piece for awhile before lunchtime. There are so many great quotes; I have a hard time discerning what needs to be cut down because I am not trying to send out something super long. I compile a list of quotes I like and ask my husband if he’d mind looking at them and taking out the ones he thinks are less interesting or repetitive. I don’t typically outsource Witches stuff to him but I know he cares about this subject and he is a (free—not paid) reader. 

I do some more client work until the boys come home. While they have their snack and start their work, I sit at the kitchen table and answer emails, do some ghostwriting, and work a bit more on tomorrow’s issue. 

I learn that my son has forgotten about a test the next day. I’m big mad and think about the essay I’m working on that’s about discerning how much help your kids really need from you vs. how much is letting them make their own mistakes. 

My husband takes the kids out to dinner while I go to an 8 PM (late!) guitar ensemble class at the Old Town School of Folk Music. Sometime I’d like to do a witches thread on hobbies we managed to pick up or pick back up after we got our sea legs after parenthood. When I get home I lay in bed and finish up the issue for tomorrow. 

Wednesday

After pouring my coffee into a carafe and bringing it to bed I work on the issue on young adults + screentime a bit more and send it out finally before we get the kids out. In between showering, client work, therapy, texting friends, reading Facebook and laundry, I check in on the post’s stats and comments. 

After I bring the dog home from his haircut and bath and have lunch, I go work on Witches for a bit in my office, contacting a source for an upcoming piece I’m working on regarding talking to kids about people who are homeless, and scheduling an interview with death doula for a future piece.

I wish I had a full few hours to focus on all the other pieces for Witches I want to work on and/or new topics to work on, but I don’t so I keep postponing my witchy to do list. I try to remind myself I have other stuff I get done and to perhaps to give myself a break. 

Among my other client work for the day involves working on a list of books that have informed, in a roundabout way, our work as newsletter writers. I suggest Laura Vanderkam’s book on being a working parent, which I remember made me feel less guilty about my time management when it came to getting work done after children go to bed. 

I volunteer to bring strawberries to the third graders’ upcoming Valentine’s Day party. It’s that time of year again when I have to remember to buy cards for dozens of people, including my parents and my spouse, on behalf of my children. 

The Mifepristone pills arrive in the mail. Wild. Easy as that. I put them in our linen closet behind my panty liners and Poo Pourri.

Thursday

We all get up earlier than usual because we have to get out of the house by 7:15 so I can take the kids to the newspaper club at school. I made them join because I heard them talk shit about how nobody reads the school newspaper, which made me mad. I sometimes come along to ask the kids what they’re working on, suggest maybe they change some exclamation points to periods, things like that. The kids are actually pretty cute, the teacher-volunteers very kind, and the experience ends up putting me in a better mood than I came in with.

I spend the day working on client work, which today includes a site visit to the International Museum of Surgical Science, which is not really a museum for kids. I plan my annual Presidents Day weekend sleepover extravaganza where I take each boy separately on an overnight to a hotel with a pool where a buddy will also be staying with his witch mom. Boys play; moms hang out; we eat snacks.

I end up working on Evil Witches after my older son comes home from school. I’m trying to decide what I will publish tomorrow: it might be on the kids’ independence piece or another thing I have on screaming. While my son shows me how his fake Apple watch vibrates by pressing it to my back, I follow up with a source for the talking-to-kids-about-hard-social-things piece. I also think about doing a thread sometime about tiny/weird ways our kids show us love.

Friday

I start the day at 6 AM, read a little bit and decide to send out the Witches discussion thread on what alarms we set, which was a fun chat. Then, for my work with Inbox Collective, I jump on a call with

Tanmoy Goswami

, a newsletter operator in India. We have a nice time talking about newsletter business and the weird anxieties that come with sending emails out the way we do. He talks about how he has had some Zooms with his readers. I imagine what it would be like to do this with Evil Witches—I was on one or two when

E. Jean Carroll

was leading some. On the one hand, it could be really fun for a bunch of readers to get to chat and say hi. On the other hand I would have a ton of anxiety about the tech working well and whether it was fun or awkward or disorganized. Maybe it would feel too much like COVID days. I set the idea aside for now. 

A friend asks me about some legal advice she needs. I email some witches I know who have been in the same legal situation as her and they all respond with advice and the offer to talk more. It turns out the woman I saw at Orangetheory earlier in the week works in the same legal field as the one my friend needs help in. I pass on the info I get and hope it is helpful. 

I work out while watching Veep and then draft a possible future thread that is low-key tied to my adoration for Julia Louis-Dreyfuss, encompassed in which is the fact that she has two sons like me. There is a special connection when you see someone you admire so much live in a family situation similar to yours.

For Inbox Collective, I proofread this piece from

CJ Chilvers

on newsletter lessons learned, which is elegantly written, has good, concise advice and makes me feel like I’m on the right track. I recommend it as a resource on Substack. 

I do some more client work, finally jump in the shower, and I have one of those “What time is it? What have I been doing?” moments when I realize what a marathon the morning was. I feel a little overwhelmed and shaky and realize there is a hot flash happening. I get out of the shower and get fully sweaty again. I don’t have time to shower again though because I’m late for an appointment. 

I go to the bra store to get a state of the union on my current bras situation. They haven’t been fitting right for awhile: it feels like my cup runneth under. The lady there convinces me that I need to switch from a sweetheart cup to a balconette and then separates me from a lot of money. I feel emotionally like I’ve just gotten a pap smear. But unlike a pap smear, I won’t have to be back for several years. 

I stop at the grocery store on the way home to get some frozen pizza because it’s Friday night. I find out that I have sold my pitch to Strategist so I email Julie Vick to say thanks for the editor’s name. 

Throughout the day I get some more client work done including scheduling an interview with a pelvic floor doctor, a topic that I’m happy to put out in front of eyeballs. I check in on the Witches alarm thread and feel good about how the topic has people talking about their lives and personal hacks, but it’s not a downer. 

My kid gets home so it’s snacktime. I walk the dog, move some laundry around. I learn E. Jean Carroll has been awarded $83.3M so I spend some online time celebrating that and tell my son I’m proud to know her—she is legitimately part of history. 

I turn in a story at 5 PM but don’t finish the workday until I’ve sent out some emails and invoices.

Finally we all have pizza and try to watch the Kelce Bros doc but turn it off because Jason says “fuck” way too many times for us to want to show the boys (we’re old-fashioned that way) so we finish Josie and the Pussycats, a rewatch.

I go to bed and fall asleep in front of RuPaul’s Drag Race, so it’s a good night, and perhaps a productive week after all.

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End credits

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One witchy thing

A quote from the book “Wait for Me!” by Deborah Cavendish, Duchess of Devonshire, on her family’s beloved early 20th-century nanny: