Summer is for sewing.

Each year, the longer days see me sewing my heart out until the light dims. While I cozy up on the couch with knitting through the dark days of winter, summer is when the fabric unfurls.

Last week I was silent on here because it was so hot I could barely see. Temps topped out last Sunday at 41C (105.8 F), which was Berlin’s hottest ever day on record. It felt like it. We all nearly melted, especially poor Hugo, who was panting at an alarming rate and it took me until 1am last Sunday night to get him cooled down with ice packs. A dear friend arrived Saturday afternoon, visiting from LA, and I told her to get straight in a bathing suit and into the cold bath.

Not much writing happened that week, I won’t lie.

But… the weather has been weathering in the exact opposite direction and I am, as I write this, in jeans and a short-sleeved wool sweater as it’s now 18C (64 F). We have no idea how to manage these wild swings.

I deal with drama by sewing.

I learned to sew when I was about nine

but haven’t been consistent with it since. While I’ve knitted solidly from my early twenties onward, sewing has come and gone until it reappeared with a vengeance several years ago. Sadly I didn’t get the fever during the pandemic, as I could have sewed a whole wardrobe then, but I was too busy writing.

This past week, I’ve made a dress, helped my visiting friend make a skirt she hadn’t even imagined when she arrived, and I’m now on to a top and skirt combo.

I am the sort of person who prepares for travel by taking on absurd tasks the last week or even a day or two pre-departure. We leave to visit America and do our semi-regular “visit all the relatives until we fall over” trip on Saturday and, despite having plenty of clothes, I’ve decided I need about four new things in order to be permitted to leave Germany.

This dress got finished yesterday:

This project had extra momentum, as I plan to wear it this Wednesday for an exciting event I’ll report on afterward.

For me, there is really no high like making one’s own clothes. Perhaps this obsession will force me to decide if the joy of a new garment is worth the pain of figuring out how to cram it into my limited wardrobe space, but for now I am firmly in favor of making the thing.

In addition, my friend who rode out the heat wave was thrilled to find a print fabric reminiscent of the Baltic countries, where she spent the other part of her holiday, making this handmade skirt the perfect souvenir. We cut the fabric coated in sweat during the heat wave and sewed it up her last day, shivering in sweaters.

This may be my new pitch for visiting friends: come to Berlin, make a skirt, and go home with something new you made yourself.

I am VERY picky about how I make things. I French seam anything I possibly can, so the pieces I make will last as long as possible. I also find enclosed seams less itchy and more comfortable to wear, especially when it’s hot out. I will flat fell if the fabric is too thick as well. (Feel free to smile and nod if this means nothing to you. There’s time to learn!)

If you’ve never sewed before

Start with something labeled “beginner” by the pattern company. This will allow you to learn a few skills without getting overwhelmed.

For my paid members, please find links to all my favorite patterns and resources for getting started below. (Including the full details of the pieces pictured above).

At this point, at least a third of my clothes are handmade and I expect that ratio to keep tipping away from store-bought. Once you’re able to make things that fit in the colors you want but never see in shops, it’s pretty hard to go back.

Here’s hoping you catch the fever too, if you haven’t already.

Happy making!

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The internet was not on our side for the first chunk of this live when it would not let in the damned door, but I am leaving the early part in because it allows Christine’s entrance to have the glamour we all felt when she came in the door.

For those of you not interested in watching me tap dance until we got Christine in, you can hop to about 7:30 and still feel the magic. It is right there in the thumbnail: our wonder that we actually made this work!

Many many thanks to Christine for being awesome in general and for being game to have this chat live on the internet with me.

If you’re wondering if the Your Writing Year intensives are right for you, I HOPE that you have gotten the vibe from this conversation.

Those who are happy in the community would get excited about:

• Laminating bookmarks

• Star charts with stickers

• Having a community dance party when someone finishes a chapter

However, if you’re also a bit shy of groups and not sure if being in a writing community is a fit for you, pretty much all of us felt that way before we joined.

Even me, when I was dreaming this whole thing up.

You can learn more here:

Indeed! I will help you learn more!

And if you have questions we didn’t cover in the live, pop them below. I’m going to leave the comments open to everyone for this one as it benefits everyone to get any and all questions answered.

Hope to see you in class!1

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I love a course.

If you’ve been here a while, you are not surprised to learn this. As a child, I was the sort of nerd who loved everything about heading back to school: the cooler weather, the new stationery, fresh pencils, and a whole giant stack of books and subjects I would get to learn.

My favorite thing about being an adult is that I can take a new course whenever I like. Well that and being able to eat dessert at any time and call it a meal. But the course thing is real.

Those who are currently in or have taken my courses before will know that we are BIG fans of stickers and making things fun in that community. The same method applies for any sort of class I choose to enroll in as a student.

My favorite recent courses

What stationery will I need? (or can I justify)

This is the question I ask most often when choosing a course. That or what kind of fabric I will need, for a sewing course. Both hook me right in.

Over the last year and change, I’ve taken some truly joyful courses and thought I’d share my favorites as inspiration for this Bingo square:

• How to make a pattern from an existing favorite garment (offered in-person at Merchant & Mills, swoon.)

• Creating a Commonplace Book (I joined Skillshare just to take this specific course offered by , as I love Ruby’s approach to stationery so much.)

• Fiction plot structure and record keeping is Rachael Stephen’s expertise, and I’ve been revisiting her Story Magic Academy to get back into working on fiction this summer. I took it back in about 2021, and it’s been so helpful to return to.

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What makes the best course?

The Merchant & Mills course above was live and in-person, allowing me to dedicate two full days to obsessing about sewing. Since most of us aren’t able to up and fly to another country to take a course, I find a mix of live and online to be the best for me.

When I first took Rachael Stephen’s course, there were still live Q+A sessions along with the pre-recorded lessons and it was possible to ask questions after reviewing the lessons. I got so much out of these sessions and this format hugely informed how I’ve created courses and programs ever since.

After running courses and programs for six years, this is what I find makes for the best course experience:

• Flexible scheduling: you can choose when you work on the material.

• Community: people who are sharing the learning experience help so much.

• Live sessions: the chance to ask the instructor questions and connect with other students.

• A time limit: Every course I’ve actually finished has had limited access to the content OR the community aspect. If I have everything forever, it’s never a priority. When I made my programs year-long, my students lost focus and reported less motivation. If you purchase a course that’s lifetime-access, create a time limit: do the course with a friend or in a group, for example.

• A clear goal: Even if that goal is just “have fun,” I have found the courses I’ve taken the most useful when I know why I’m taking them. When I arrived in Germany, I took German so I could go to the doctor and a dinner party in that language. Now I can do that, so future German classes have new goals.1

• Any excuse to involve stickers and colored pencils. I’m only slightly joking here. I will create a chart that I can color in and sticker up for nearly anything, and when it’s to do with something I want to do for myself, so much the better.

If all of these elements are present, I know I’ll enjoy the course and get a lot out of it. Some of these elements need to be present in the course itself, like the flexible scheduling, but a lot of the rest I can create myself.

In revisiting Rachael Stephen’s course on story, I have decided to return to my novel for the next round of my Your Writing Year intensives, which starts June 29th.2
This gives me a deadline for reviewing the course: I want to be through it by the start date, so the whole session will be focused on the novel itself, not novel planning. If I didn’t set that parameter, I’d risk meandering through the course for the next six months. Fun, maybe, but not ultimately that helpful.

How to choose?

In the end, I always lead with curiosity.

What did you wish you studied in school? What class did you dream of taking but never had time for? Have a search to see if you can recreate that now.

I have a dream to take one of those in-person sessions of a week or ten days at universities so I get to cosplay being a student at Oxford of Cambridge or some other gorgeous academic setting, but I think that will have to wait until another year.

In the meantime, I’m happy DIYing and finding workshops as I need them.

Members: share your favorite courses in the comments — I’m always up for a new one!

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Even after living here for nearly eight years, I am woefully behind in seeing all the cultural institutions this city offers, competing with many cities twice its size as one of the top five cities for museums in the world.

Martin-Gropius-Bau had long been on my list, and when artists Peter Hujar and Marina Abromovic had shows there simultaneously, I knew it was time.

Originally opened in 1881 as both a museum and educational facility, the building was so badly damaged during the Second World War that it was nearly demolished in the 1960s. Thankfully one of the original architect’s grand-nephew, Walter Gropius, successfully had the building declared a landmark and renamed it Martin-Gropius-Bau after his relative, who co-designed the building with Heino Schmeiden. The restoration took from 1978 until 1999 and conserved both the building and the history of its damage in the war. Today it houses contemporary art and celebrates installations as part of its exhibits. 1

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Abromovic

I have long been fascinated with Marina Abromovic’s work, particularly her installations. Having recently read The Museum of Modern Love by Heather Rose, which centers a novel around ‘The Artist is Present’ a durational piece she performed in the Museum of Modern Art in 2010, I was already connected with her work more deeply than before.

Rose’s novel takes the nearly three months Abromovic sat at a table opposite members of the public as the timeframe of the story, following one character as he faces his wife’s final illness, as well as the community that builds around those witnessing the installation. I found it haunting, and have always regretted not seeing this work in person.

While Abromovic was not present in the museum this past weekend, each room of the show created an experience to sit with her creations, many of which feature video. The combination of the exploration of former Yugoslavia as a political power as well as her relationship to its folklore was riveting, at least for me.

I went with two men, one a friend, and one my husband, both of whom reported feeling curious about the work but not emotionally connected to it. Perhaps my having read a novel that gave me more context was what made the different for me, or perhaps her work means something different to women, but I have found myself thinking about it often in the days since seeing the work.

The visuals are extremely memorable from this show, not the least of which is a room featuring phallus statues twice the height of most humans, as well as the remnants of a star Abromovic burned in one of her earliest performance pieces in the 1970s. In addition, the themes of sexuality and death and how they intersect in Balkan culture appeared throughout.

Coming from a country that now faces conflict due to a dominant ruler, Abromovic’s work speaks to me differently than it might have a decade ago. I left the show driven to learn more about the folk traditions both of the Balkan region as well as German mythology, to better understand the past of where I now live. Much of the history I have learned about Germany centers around the world wars an the first half of the twentieth century, but I know that a deeper understanding of this place requires going much further back in time.

Peter Hujar

Photographer Peter Hujar lived from 1934-1987, and his work features many luminaries from the art world of New York in the 1960s, 70s and 80s. He took part in a master class of Richard Avedon’s along with Diane Arbus and similar to Arbus and Nan Goldin, documented figures from the counterculture of the time, especially within the queer community.

Many will recognize one of his photographs, perhaps not realize it is his (as I also didn’t), from the cover of Hanya Yanagihara’s bestselling novel, A Little Life:

What struck me about this image being used for that novel was the title, ‘Orgasmic Man.’ In a novel that reveals so much suffering, the actual expression in this photograph is from a hopefully more joyful moment than the most tortured character in the novel experiences. Many have called this novel ‘trauma porn’, but I suspect the publisher couldn’t have known that would be the case when they selected the cover image.

However, I can see why Hujar was the choice for a story about a tight-knit group of male friends who face countless life challenges together, as Hujar’s oeuvre includes artists, intellectuals, and many luminaries of the queer community in New York from the 60s-80s. His work manages to be elegant and humane, giving members of society who were often overlooked or rejected a way to be seen and honored.

What struck me most was how many cards appeared on the walls with biographies of figures pictured. Whether this was because those living in Germany were likely unfamiliar with the subjects, or because much time had passed since they were well-known is hard to say. I admit there were many I didn’t know, even as an American who studied photography.

The tragedy is how many of his subjects were lost, including Hujar himself, in the AIDS crisis. Encountering his photographs lets us look into the eyes of brilliant people whose lives were stolen from them well before their time. It hit me particularly hard, knowing that the backlash against queer and trans rights continues, gaining steam in the US in recent years. I wish it were possible to look at these photographs with the comfort of knowing how far we’ve come, but that doesn’t currently feel like the truth.

Some exhibits bring joy, but this visit made me think.

In challenging times, I find we need both. Neither Abromovic nor Hujar’s art coddles the viewer. Instead, their pieces ask questions I’ve carried with me in the days and week since I spent time with what they created. My respect for them both has only grown.

For those not in Berlin this summer:

I recommend the book Peter Hujar’s Day to connect with him more directly. The friend I saw this exhibit with reports that the film adaptation, with Ben Whishaw as Hujar, is also excellent.

The novel The Museum of Modern Love by Heather Rose centers around Marina Abromovic’s installation ‘The Artist is Present’ at the Museum of Modern Art in NYC. I loved the novel and found it a compelling introduction to Abromovic’s work. I also plan to watch the documentary “The Artists is Present” to learn more.

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This post is part of the Governess Season challenge, running June–August 2026.

A bingo board of adventures awaits, with prizes! Try something new, write about it, and share.

Get all the details here:

and yesterday was no exception.

Her wonderful latest novel, All Grown Up, is out now and if you live somewhere in the world you can’t get it locally, the magical Blackwells in Oxford will ship anywhere in the world at no extra cost. Get your copy here.

Those in the UK can get theirs from Daisy’s local shop, The Margate bookshop, signed and inscribed.

If you’re a lover of Little Women, but are perhaps of an age where you relate more to Marmee than the girls, this book is the perfect choice. I found it cozy, funny, and genuinely touching all the way through.

In addition, because Daisy gives me a REAL run for my money when it comes to reading, the following other books came up:

• Kristi Coulter, Nothing Good Can Come From This and Exit Interview

• Author, Bridget Jones’ Diary

• Miranda July, All Fours

• Marion Keyes, Anybody Out There? and My Favorite Mistake

• Jilly Cooper, Rivals et al.

• Coco Mellors, Blue Sisters

• Ann Napolitano, Hello Beautiful

• Dodie Smith, I Capture the Castle

• Rosamund Lehman, Invitation to a Waltz

• Jean Rhys, Wide Sargasso Sea

• Nina Hamnett, Laughing Torso

• Celia Paul, Self-Portrait

• Katy Hessel, The History of Art Without Men

• Laurie Colwin, Happy All the Time and Shine On, Bright and Dangerous Object

• Katherine Heiny, all

• Zadie Smith, Dead and Alive

• Charles Dickens, A Christmas Carol

And bookstores:

• Blackwells, Oxford

• Dussmann, Berlin

• Chapters, Berlin

• Waterstones, Picadilly

The loneliness epidemic article from New York Magazine’s The Cut is here.
(sadly has a paywall, but there is a $1 for 4 weeks trial)

Daisy’s recent Guardian article is here.

You can get even more in your life by checking out her gorgeous substack, over here.

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Bingo square: Attend an Author Event

This post is part of the Governess Season challenge, running June–August 2026.

A bingo board of adventures awaits, with prizes! Try something new, write about it, and share.

Learn more and join us here:

Subscribe now

Historically, I’m not a big concert-goer.

As a teenager, I ended up on the ground, head under my sweatshirt at an all-day live show. There were simply too many people. It was too bright and too dusty and I needed a break from seeing them all moving around, shouting, lining up endlessly for very small, extortionately priced food and drink.

I did better at shows with one band, maybe with an opening act, especially if they were at night. The dark peeled me away from the crowds, blended the masses together. As I got older, I avoided music that didn’t have assigned seating. College had plenty of lawns and mosh pits and I wanted no part of the herd that convened in either place.

Moving to Berlin meant giving up my car, something I desperately wanted to do, but I didn’t realize how much that would separate me from music. I listened to most of my favorites in the car, singing to distract myself from traffic. No one sings on the U-Bahn. Well, no one who doesn’t want dirty looks sent their way.

By 2019, I’d only been to see one band in my new city. A friend’s husband performed in a small club. The group is beloved in Germany, despite being Canadian and the crowd was our age or older. Not a mosh pit in site. Gentle folk fans swayed with their beers and sang along in their second (or third) language, leaving plenty of space for everyone to breathe. At the end, the two lead singers came off the stage and led a bitching conga line sing-a-long of 99 Luftballoons, the German hit from the 90s. It was glorious.

“I could do that again,” I thought.

(Sadly this video isn’t of 99 Luftbaloons, which as far as I know wasn’t filmed, but this is from the same stage we’ve seen Madison Violet play on multiple times. We’re too shy to be close enough to the stage for our heads to show, but we’re likely just out of frame.)

Then, Covid shut things down. They didn’t tour again until late 2021, but we were back, and this time, we knew the words like everyone else there.

But I didn’t seek out other shows. What I saw was often due to the performer rather than the desire to listen to music for its own sake. When my cousin performed with her choir at Proms in London 2024, I felt over and loved being immersed from my reserved seat. But I didn’t run home and peruse the symphony calendar. It always felt like a one-off.

One place we’ve returned to three or four times is the Piano Salon Christophori in northern Berlin. An enterprising piano restorer decided to found a piano salon by gathering small concerts of touring musicians. He began hosting them in a room off the back courtyard in the Kreuzberg neighborhood of Berlin, but soon outgrew the space and moved to his restoration space, high-ceilinged with pieces of pianos in progress and art on the walls. Their website doesn’t give a specific founding date, but press interviews and clippings start in 2009. They now offer four or five shows a week, featuring award-winning performers of chamber music from around the world.

Most recently, we saw Mayumi Kanagawa, violinist, and Han-Wen Jennifer Wu, pianist, play Schubert, Dvorak, Faure and Gershwin. In the smaller space, with help-yourself wine and water available, it was possible to sink into the surprisingly good acoustics with fellow music lovers. Some perhaps more persnickety than others; my mother-in-law was shushed for speaking too enthusiastically (she is American after all) fifteen full minutes before the start time. She took it very well, far better than I would have, if we’re being honest.

I never thought of myself as a big classical fan. There are some pieces I love, and Yo-Yo Ma is my favorite thing to listen to in the bath, but I now realize that the energy of a classical performance suits me far better than a rock show. Quiet seating, breaks with silence instead of applause, and the chance to space out and enjoy something without anything asked of me. This, I love.

A few months back, we saw virtuoso mandolinist Chris Thile and it was hands down one of the best shows I’ve seen in my life. Any genre, any time. This was especially satisfying, as we invited friends to join and they were dubious. “A mandolin concert? Just one guy? That’s a LOT of mandolin.” We persisted.

It was a lot of mandolin, but you can do far more with that instrument than either of us expected. Thile can just as easily bust out bluegrass as Bach and even whipped out Britney for his encore. You haven’t really lived until you’ve heard ‘Toxic’ on a solo mandolin, I now believe. Even more amusing, was the very wide range of ages in the crowd, all of whom were ready to sway to anything he played. I’d travel to see him again, no question. Here’s a taste:

Bolstered by our success seeing classical live, B and I agreed to join his parents to go to one of the “lunchtime concerts” put on by the Berlin Philharmonie. I had long been curious about these shows, which are Wednesdays at 1pm, doors open at noon, and free.

As an eater with a lot of requirements (gluten-intolerant and vegan) I should have known there’d be nothing for me to eat there. I’d rushed over from working to discover all the options involved both gluten AND cheese, so I prepared myself to starve as we looked for seats. Or leaning spots. Or floor. It was soon clear that people had queued before noon and possibly as early as 11:30 because every horizontal surface in the place was covered with classical-loving butts.

My in-laws and I ended up on a mezzanine with an obstructed view of the piano where the musicians would play a series of duets. Once I had taken a break to sit on the floor and talk myself off the hangry ledge, I calculated the number of people. At least 1,000. In the foyer of the symphony. Oof. While the playing was beautiful when it began, I was overwhelmed by the packed space and eager to eat as soon as the performers took a long series of bows. An hour was just about the right length for leaning against a ledge. After leaving, I was able to find an excellent veggie bowl and was better able to digest the music as well.

Going forward, I’m looking at the formal Philharmonic season to see if we can finally see the full assembly play. The calendar looks excellent and knowing I have a seat and making sure I eat in advance is my plan for my next show.

In addition, I’m hoping my friend’s husband’s band will be touring again this fall and that they play in Berlin. After all, it’s nice to branch out but it’s also the best to see a band play that I’ve truly come to love.

This post is part of the Governess Season challenge, running June–August 2026.

A bingo board of adventures awaits, with prizes! Try something new, write about it, and share.

Get all the details here:

Subscribe now

Welcome to the challenge!

If you weren’t able to join us for the live, please enjoy the replay, which explains all the details of the challenge above. Note that I said there wouldn’t be open comments in the video, but I have decided to leave the comments open by emailing the PDF of the bingo board to paid subscribers. For anyone who chooses to upgrade, I will add a download link to the bingo board in the Reference library, which is linked from your welcome email when you upgrade.

This way anyone can ask questions in the comments who needs to.1

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Here is your Bingo Board:

Full details of the squares, from left to right, then top to bottom:

• New craft: try a craft you haven’t done before, or a very different way of applying that craft — for example, if you knit, but have never made socks or a sweater, this would count.

• Full album: listen to a full music album, without putting it on shuffle, all the way through in one go. Fine to do other things while listening, but the listening should be done in one session.

• Visit a museum or gallery: preferably one you’ve not visited before OR to see a show there that is new to you.

• Take a class: Take a class or workshop that you’ve wanted to study more. This can be online or off, but complete the class before writing up your square.

• Read a different genre: Pick a book that’s outside your usual section of the library/bookstore and is different from your usual choices in a meaningful way. You can also change subgenre: for example, if you generally read romance, try queer romance for a change, or horror romance etc.

• Call don’t text: try calling the people you want to contact instead of texting for a meaningful interval of time (at least one day) and report your experience.

• Try it with others: Do something you normally do alone (for example crafting or reading or writing) with other people: find a group in your town, or gather some friends.

• Book event: Attend a live book event in person and support an author with your presence.

• Make instead of buy: Try a DIY approach when you need something new. Reuse something you already have, or make it from scratch: this could be clothing, food, reusing existing items for organizing your space, or however you can interpret the prompt. It’s ok to purchase supplies, but not a finished item.

• New music genre: listen to an album in a genre you rarely (or never) choose to play.

• Write in a new form: try writing in a way you never have before: perhaps a poem, screenplay format, or short story. Perhaps you have never written fiction: try a scene. You an also take writing you have and rework it: transform a novel chapter into screenplay format, for example.

• Tech-free day: spend at least 12 hours without using any tech. If you need to be reachable by phone and only have a mobile, brick or block every other app on your device to complete this challenge.

• New route / transport: take a different route than your usual to a common destination. Even better, try using public transport if you normally drive, or cycling if you normally take transport (and can get hold of a bike.)

• Try it alone: Do something alone you normally do with others. Solo cinema date, restaurant meal, even a day trip. Make it something that challenges you, but also pick something safe (don’t go rock climbing or do physical activities that require a second person for spotting).

• Try it outside: in both the heat of summer and the cold of winter, I’m guilty of hiding away from intense weather. If you’re the same, doing something you almost always do inside out of doors will hopefully shake up the inertia. (Just remember to dress sensibly for the experience)

• Visit a new area: Check out a new neighborhood in your city or visit a new nearby town. Bonus if you’re going on holiday and try a place entirely new to you.

• Write a letter: Send a letter to a friend or family member when you’d normally email or text. Stationery lovers: let’s use that pretty paper we’ve all been hoarding!

• Live music: Go see a concert or musical performance in person.

• Buy it used: Pick a used item if you’d normally purchase new.

• Book — new country: Read a book set in a country you haven’t visited that is written by an author who is originally from / lives there. (As in, not a British / American / Canadian on holiday somewhere you haven’t been) Fiction, Nonfiction or Poetry all welcome.

• Mend it: Mend something you would normally replace. Ideally, mend it yourself, but if you’ve never had shoes repaired, finding a cobbler and taking a pair in counts.

• Photo series: Try taking a series of images of the same subject OR take a photo of the same view over a period of time. (This one is most fun over longer, so you may want to start early in the season and continue on til August ends)

• New recipe: cook or bake something you haven’t made before

• Book — translated: Read a book in translation, either from another language into English OR read something translated into another language you read. The key is to read the book in a language other than the original language it was written in.

Rules of the challenge:

In order to cross of a square, you must:

1. Do the activity from the square.

2. Write a note or post describing your experience and LINK to THIS POST. Also tag me, .

3. No combining squares — you must pick one square per activity. For example, if you took a new route to a concert, this would count for New Route / transport OR Live Music, not both. Same if you buy a used book in translation; that would count for Book in Translation OR Buy Used, not both.

To win:

Email admin@carolinedonahue.com after you have five completed squares2 and include:

1. Links to each of your “square” posts or notes — list the bingo square name and then paste the URL of your note or post next to / below it in the email.

2. The email address you use for your substack subscription.

ONLY EMAIL ONCE AFTER YOU HAVE COMPLETED ALL SQUARES3

Free subscribers win two month’s access to the paid substack after having completed a bingo of squares.4

Paid subscribers get a two month extension to their paid subscription and are entered in the draw to win the following prizes:

Paid Subscriber Prize Draw:

• A copy of my friend ’s gorgeous new novel, All Grown Up, a modern re-telling of Little Women. One prize copy available!

• A copy of my book Writing through Fear. Two prize copies available!

• A Book Witch session with me — a new offering where I help writers get unstuck mid-manuscript. Have you lost focus or enjoyment writing your book? Through completing a manuscript self-assessment, an in-person meeting with me, with access to ask follow-up questions, you’ll be in the writing flow in no time. One lucky winner will receive this session!

• Surprise prizes to be added each month of the challenge!

Welcome to Governess Season!

Starting June 1, I’ve created a scavenger hunt of sorts for us all to participate in through the end of August.

For those of us entering summer, I often find it a struggle to enjoy the season when I’m slowed down by the heat. Likewise, for those beginning the winter season, it’s often easier to stay snuggled at home than to get out for a new adventure.

This challenge aims to serve all of us with a series of activities that stretch us to try new things, especially ones away from screens. I’ve set sterner limits with myself in recent months (I’m the governess, after all) and have noticed a brighter, more focused mind has been my reward.

Here’s how the challenge works:

I’ve created a bingo board of activities (to be revealed Friday the 29th after our community live). To participate, complete activities that give you a full line across the board to get BINGO. You get a square by posting an article or note that describes your experience and links back to the main post (coming this Friday).

FREE SUBSCRIBERS who get bingo before August 31 win 2 months’ access to the Tattooed Governess’ paid community. (Everyone will be granted their free access together in early September so the admin doesn’t kill us)

PAID SUBSCRIBERS who get bingo before August 31 get a 2-month extension to their paid subscription AND an entry into the prize draw: Prizes to be announced on 1 June. I cannot wait to share them!

Subscribe now

Join us Friday, 29 May:

I’ll be hosting a Live this Friday to discuss the challenge and the Bingo Square adventures in depth. The replay will be up as part of the main Governess Season post also going live the 29th.

Details to join us here:

GET REMINDED FOR THE LIVE

I’m so excited to begin what hopefully becomes a new annual tradition.

Governess Season is on!

How do you read so much?

I get this question more often than any other. Usually, the person asking does so hoping for either a secret to access more time or more focused attention. The truth is, I don’t struggle to focus and read because I love curling up with a book more than doing almost anything else.

That said, there is plenty that conspires to keep my mind and my eyeballs away from the pages. Some of this is unavoidable — even I don’t get paid just to read, and there have been periods of my life when protecting time for books was for more difficult.

What follows are my best tips to grow, and protect, a reading habit.

1. What book did you last love?

You may have to scan well into the past to find it. Don’t be daunted. Even if the last story you can remember gripping you is The Runaway Bunny this is still useful information.

Most of us choose books we think we should be reading and pass by the ones that look too fun as a waste of time. Let me say it once and for all:

If you love it, a book is not a waste of time. Ever.

I cannot tell you how many people who expressed shock that I read romance, fantasy, and science fiction as well as literature and informative nonfiction.

“I only read nonfiction,” many people say. “ I don’t feel like novels are a good use of my time.” This is when I step into the other room to scream into a pillow and pull myself together.

When did reading become something that had to be a “good use of our time?” Don’t pick books like you’ll have to justify your choice of reading later. Pick them like you choose truffles in a chocolatier’s shop. Which ones look most delicious to you? Those are your next reads. Need a guide? has a truly joyous substack nerding out about delicious romance novels. You could do way worse than to start there. Her book, In Love with Love is a JOY. My friend ’s book, Read Yourself Happy, provides book recs based on desired mood and is itself quite the delicious read.

A friend who often bemoaned his slow and inconsistent habit finally accepted a book I lent him. Pagans by James Alistair Henry is set in an alternative UK where the Norman Invasion never happened, the UK isn’t a unified country, and solving a murder means a diplomatic effort between different lands with entirely different religions.

My friend is a language nerd who enjoys some suspense. Seven days later, he was sniffing around for more books. I got him on the Rivers of London series by Ben Aaronovitch and he’s read six books in a month and a half. I hooked another friend who bemoaned not having read consistently in years on a romantasy series she devoured before moving on to a wide range of fiction.

Once you break the force field with a book you love, you’ll want read more.

2. What shows and films suck you in most?

Those who claim novels are a waste of time rarely feel the same about fiction in films. People are willing to watch a show or movie set in a fantasy world, usually because they are calculating the amount of time spent watching. If you can’t remember the last book you loved, get your story inspiration from what you love on screen.

Plus, if you add up how much time you spend on streaming platforms, you could get quite a lot of solid reading in with a simple switch. This is one big secret about how I read so much: I barely watch television at all. My husband and I get through a few series a year and enjoy going to the cinema, but most of the time when at home, we’d rather grab a book.

I’m not suggesting you deprive yourself of the stories that exist on screen: use them as a map to find books you’ll love just as much. For example, if you loved the film Arrival, you’ll probably love author Ted Chaing’s fiction. Arrival was based on “Stories of Your Life,” the titular piece from one of his excellent short story collections. Try searching for book recommendation by describing the plots of favorite shows or films on a site like StoryGraph, a woman-owned and run alternative to Goodreads that provides personalized book recommendations.

In fact, if fiction is a struggle to focus on, starting with short stories is a great way to build a reading habit. When I’m under a lot of stress or have big projects I’m working on, I often turn to short story and essay collections for reading so I don’t have to remember complex plots from day to day. I also enjoy these books while traveling, as a busy outside life makes it harder to digest a chunky book sometimes.

If you avoid fiction, which would surprise me if you’ve found this substack, visiting the section in the bookstore or library that most resembles your favorite films and shows is a great way to shift over. Try reading instead of watching one day a week and see if you miss that much screen time.

3. What are you a total nerd about?

I could, on any day at any time, talk your ear off about textile production, the clothing industry, sewing, fashion, and apparel in general. One friend ran to the bathroom and hid, ten minutes after asking an ill-advised question about what makes Japanese denim so desirable.

If a book touches any of the above areas, I will enjoy it. My collection of books on this topic will soon be large enough to fill its own shelf, should I wish to group them together. No one on earth wants to talk about clothing production as much as I do, at least no one I’ve met yet, so I slake my fascination with reading.

What are you a nerd about? Is there something you wish friends and family wanted to discuss more? Get thee to the library. If you’re obsessed with something, you’ll enjoy reading about it. Bookish types often bemoan the decline in reading among younger generations, but in many cases reading has just changed forms. In my favorite bookshop in Berlin, a new massive section of manga has sprung up, and I grabbed a Mr. B’s Book Emporium recommended title translated from Japanese to German instead of English. I want to read in German, but I don’t automatically reach for it. I’m excited to enjoy a new form of writing in my second language, and perhaps this will inspire me to nerd out more by reading in German.

4. No one is going to test you on this.

I hope I’ve convinced to you to pick books that excite you, rather than books you see on a famous person’s ‘must-read’ list. Since most adults last read seriously when in school, it became a chore associated with having to prove they read the book properly and understood it the way the teacher wanted.

While this is useful for assessing reading comprehension for younger readers, it serves absolutely no purpose for adults who want to read more. Please don’t pick the book that “everyone is talking about” or that someone is waving up and down on every social media feed if it sounds boring to you. Stop browsing lists of “100 classics that every person should read before they die” and worrying about getting through all of them before you pop your clogs. There is nothing less fun than doing something because “they” think you should.

Please don’t make reading a joyless must like doing your taxes.

If you do nothing else after reading this, please go to the library or bookshop and grab something that feels SCANDALOUS to read. Something your high school English teacher would be shocked by. Whether this is a smutty fantasy or a how-to on a bizarre hobby or a nostalgic favorite you have been dying to re-read, pick the most enticing book you can.

This will go a long way toward re-acclimating you to reading for fun. You have to read something pleasurable for the activity to be a joy. And you don’t have to justify your choice to me or anyone. Gorge on reading you love and keep picking what looks good next and you’ll soon find yourself with a reading habit.

5. Make it easier to read than not to.

This may be the most essential point of all. If you’ve been wanting to yell at me up to now, “Caroline I know which books I love, I just don’t have any time to actually pick them up and read them!” this one’s for you.

Our lives are not designed to support a rich reading habit. Reading requires time and focus, and as the years pass, we have less of both. However, all is not lost. We can put barriers in place to reclaim our ability to read for chunks of time.

The two things that most often steal from reading time are social media/the internet and other life responsibilities. I can’t do much about your life responsibilities as parents with young kids at home, workers on a tough deadline or people with relatives needing care in the hospital are going to have less time and ability to focus on books. That’s how some phases of life go, and I definitely read way less when I lived in LA and worked long hours with a monstrous commute.

However, we can do something about keeping optional distraction at bay. If you haven’t been a reader for a long time and are just getting back to it, I recommend choosing hard copies of books. As in paper. This doesn’t have to cost you anything extra — just visit your local library and check out physical books. We don’t want you to risk your attention getting snatched by reading on a device. I’d argue that even an eReader is risky, as many of them are internet enabled, if only to allow you to purchase and upload more books.

When you are reading, put your devices FAR AWAY. At least in a different room. Having a mobile right next to you on the bed means any impulse you have to pop out of the book will be too hard to resist. Don’t tempt yourself.

If you find yourself rushing to find your devices and can’t settle, there is a new level available. I got myself a Brick1 when recently in the UK and working on writing projects. It lets me block specific apps and sites or even everything but the phone function either on a schedule or I can tap the mode on and tap off.

Other services, like Opal, offer this service, but usually with a subscription fee attached. Brick is the only one I’ve seen that’s a one-time charge and you’re done. On my computer, I have Freedom, an internet blocker that helps me when I’m writing.2 If you are the sort who would walk past a blocked phone to get online with your computer, that may be needed as well. Getting on their list means you’ll receive discounts and they often do sales for a lifetime license, which avoids the ongoing fee.

I used to struggle to read on public transit, opting instead to play games on my phone, which left me stressed and jittery after being on the train. I deleted the worst games (I’m looking at you, ten-year Jelly Splash addiction) and I’ve set up a profile within Brick called “reading.” It only allows me to access reading apps or audiobooks on my phone and maps — if I need to navigate — that I can click on for 30 minutes or however long my ride is. This allows me to read a book I’ve carried with me or dip in on my phone’s eReader app. I arrive feeling way better than I have in the past.

Your brain may panic at first, as it’s used to having something to distract it every time it’s bored. But like someone used to eating lots of sugar, if you give your brain a book instead of an app to scroll on, it’s a bit like giving it a piece of fruit. Over time, it will adjust, and eventually it will prefer the taste of something fresh.

6. Read in bed.

I go to bed early. As in, old-lady early. I have been known to get in pajamas before 9pm and cozy up with a book before it’s even dark in the summer in Berlin. I admit, I am an extreme case. But I don’t go to sleep early, necessarily. I pretty much always call it a night at about 11:30, no matter when I get in bed.

If you get in bed earlier with a book — if your life allows for this — one of two things will happen. You’ll either fall asleep quickly, as many people have told me they do when reading at night, or you’ll get a bunch of reading done.

Both are solid outcomes. The first means you’re likely incredibly sleep deprived, as much of the world is, and having time to catch up will help you focus on reading later. If you get in early and read a ton, you’ll build up much more time immersed in books.

The other option is to wake up a little early and read before getting up, which I also enjoy regularly. Reading a chapter before getting out of bed feels truly luxurious to me, even if it means setting an earlier alarm, because I get to enjoy warm cozy bed with a book before I’ve done anything else. I start by winning. Again, this one is only available to those without little kids at home, as no one is getting any reading done with a toddler jumping on the bed. But if you have this possibility available, I highly recommend it.

Finally, keep any non-reading devices out of the bedroom. Charge phones elsewhere and put them away before getting in bed. If you have a TV in your bedroom, try draping a blanket over it and putting the remote in another room on evenings you read before going to sleep.

7. Pick your own experiment.

Starting June 1, I’m running a challenge so we can all focus our attention more on reading and other activities that take us away from our screens. Yes, I recognize the irony of offering this on an online platform, but this is the world we live in now. And if we can use the internet to make our lives more satisfying on our own terms, so much the better.

I’ll be sharing the full details in a live on Friday the 29th, but in the meantime, if you liked summer reading lists at the end of the school year, have been craving play and more fun, but weren’t sure how to break out of your current habits, this will be just the ticket.

More details to come soon…

How do you fit more reading in?

Paid members, let’s chat about our reading habits and practices in the comments section. What helps you get more reading done, and what trips you up when you try to read more? We can help each other!

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Not yet a member? This is a great time to join as paid members get slow reads (another way to strengthen your reading habit) twice a year AND will be up for extra prizes during this summer challenge. Hope to have you with us!

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I’ve always loved erasing the board.

As a language teacher, I’ve learned that the word lists that appear through class are bizarre and idiosyncratic. I often snapped photos before erasing them: “decapitate” hovered next to “weak enamel” while “loose goose” lingered at the bottom, next to “going stag,” with various slang for vomiting covered the middle. Any topic is open season in language lessons.

At the end of the lesson, I always quickly erased, especially when teaching away from the school in an office not used to such word lists. There is something wonderful about throwing yourself into a period of creation and then getting to start again from scratch.

Jane Eyre is wrapped

Our last post for the second Tattooed Governess slow read went live Monday, and I am both proud and relieved in equal measure to be erasing that board. Both times I’ve run slow reads, I’ve vastly underestimated the amount of mental energy it takes to create them, and as a result I haven’t managed to write anything else on here while slow reads are running.

But now I am free again, and I am excited to have a blank board to play with through August. I’ve got an adventure planned we can take together — more on that soon — but in the meantime, I want to share some things I’ve enjoyed recently that aren’t Jane Eyre.

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What I’ve been reading:

So many good books! I also got to have several in-depth conversations at Mr. B’s Book Emporium when I was in Bath, UK, in April, which led to a massive book haul in my suitcase returning home. That place is book nerd heaven — if you haven’t yet been, it’s worth going to Bath just for the bookshops — Persephone is also there, as is the massive treasure trove that is Topping.

My favorite reads from the last few months:

• Deborah Levy’s Real Estate is the third in her Living Autobiography trilogy and it is my favorite. The idea of imaginary real estate as the things we own, both physical and abstract, enchanted me, as did the atmosphere of the book.

• I reread both of Everina Maxwell’s books, having listened to them on audio before and adored them even more the second time. I recommend going in order of publication, even though they are both standalone: Winter’s Orbit then Ocean’s Echo. She has another book coming late in 2026 and I cannot wait for it.

• Hunchback by Saou Ichikawa is fascinating and an absolute grabber. A dry and witty exploration of disability and sexuality, it won Japan’s most prestigious literary award: the Akutagawa Prize for up-and-coming authors. I can absolutely see why — this is a book you won’t forget.

• Patch Work: A Life Amongst Clothes by Claire Wilcox. I picked this up thinking it might be a textile history memoir, but it’s much more ephemeral moments in the author’s life and career (curating at the V&A museum and caring for its collections) and how clothes touch these memories. Each one feels like a soap bubble of life and the writing is just gorgeous.

• Ring Shout, by P. Djèlí Clark. Set in the early 1900s, several Black women fight monsters called Ku Kluxes that spawn from Klan members. Ed, the bookseller at Mr. B’s described this as like “a very tightly plotted and excellent episode of Buffy [the Vampire Slayer].” I definitely agree. The monsters were fascinating and the deft commentary on racism in this part of American history was effortlessly woven through a pulsing narrative. So good.

• At the Pond: Swimming at the Hampsted Ladies’ Pond, Daunt Books. Arranged by season, this essay collection includes a range of pieces of gorgeous writing. Swimming in the this pond functions as a reset and an escape for the women writing for many reasons, and these essays felt as much about home, career, love, and friendship as they were about swimming. I foolishly read this just after returning from London, and wanted to jump on a plane back right away to finally swim in this magical place.

Currently reading:

• Ex Libris: Confessions of a Common Reader, Anne Fadiman. Written in the 90s, I can’t be sure I haven’t read this before, but I’ve just scratched the surface and I’m already in love. Any book written by a serious reader about how much they love it has my heart.

• Storm Over Camelot, Sophie Keetch. The third in Keetch’s Morgan le Fay trilogy, I had been dragging my heels not wanting to finish these, but I finally began last night and read 100 pages before blinking. If you enjoy alternative takes of mythology and beautiful writing about magical women, this trilogy is for you.

• A Suit or a Suitcase, Maggie Smith. I’ve been sipping this one, a poem at a time, in the morning and it is delicious to savor, as all Smith’s writing is. You’ll want a copy to keep.

Recently watched:

• The History of Sound. (film) Josh O’Connor and Paul Mescal meet in 1917 while studying music and form a powerful connection. My favorite section was their trip together collecting folk songs on wax cylinders to preserve the voices of many singers and the song tradition. It’s a heartbreaker, but a bittersweet story that has definitely lingered.

• Shrinking (show) Having trained as a therapist, I enjoy this show while also knowing that almost the entire premise would get any therapist barred from practicing in California, let alone anywhere in the US. Even so, the acting is excellent, Harrison Ford and Jessica Williams are a gift, and Jason Segal brings real heart to often vulnerable topics. We’re on season three and will be sad when we finish.

What’s next?

The new adventure I have planned for us will begin in June, and I’ll share more about how it will work next week. To give you a hint, it’s a bit like a Governess Mode scavenger hunt that we all get to do together.

I’ll be explaining everything in a live on May 29 at 17:00 Central European Summer time — get notifications here to join live. The replay will also be available for everyone.

What are you erasing the board on?

Finished any projects lately? Hit a milestone? Share in the comments below!

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Instead of Footnotes this month, I give you a concept I’ve been exploring recently. It’s still forming, but I’m dying to share.

I have always found productivity-focused approaches to life irritating. In German, we say “es nervt,” or directly translated, “It nerves.” That the only purpose our lives have is to crank out more widgets so we can then buy even more widgets has never sat well with me.

In recent years, I keep seeing posts from men, tech bros one might call them, extolling the virtues of “monk mode” which, as far as I can tell, is foisting all life admin off on other people so the ‘monk’ in question can focus exclusively on work.

For writers and creatives, this is the dream — or so we think.

However, what it leaves out is the need for replenishment, connection, and curiosity. Living in monk mode means an uninterrupted stream of output, be that writing, art, music, or code. But I’ve never been able to create in a vacuum.

Whenever I’ve had time to myself to work with no other distractions, and this has happened for maybe two weeks total in my entire life, a natural rhythm develops: a few hours of writing and then some other creative activity that allows me to space out and daydream about my project, and then a third period where I read, watch a film, see an art show, or have a really juicy conversation with a friend.

The alternative: Governess Mode

Along with all the hype about monk mode, some friends and I have noticed a huge uptick in nun content: books, YouTube videos, and a general fascination with the nun life. While on the surface, nun mode appears to be the companion of “monk mode,” I don’t feel this is actually the case. Yes, nuns withdraw from worldly distractions, such as social activity, fashion, and secular culture, but most nuns don’t get the benefit that those touting monk mode champion: lack of responsibility for others.

Nuns often participate in charity and help the community they are a part of, even if that only extends to their nunnery. Actual religious orders of monks also have these responsibilities, but those on YouTube teaching monk mode seem to forget this. Nor is community and charity a negative part of life, unless you want to hole up in a cave and deal with no one else. (And I have had these moments, so I get the impulse.)

But the issue I don’t see any of these ways of life addressing is the wellspring of creativity: feeding curiosity.

We in the twenty-first century romanticize the governess. I adore the idea of a private tutor who might teach me many subjects in a comfortable setting where my skills and preferences, as well as learning quirks, were respected.

Rather than a monk mode that wants us to spew streams of code like black bile into the world, what if we could live in Governess Mode?

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The Credo of Governess Mode

We need to make a few adjustments to the 19th-century governess in order to make this mode suitable for today’s independent student. I propose the following adjustments:

Governess Mode: 21st Century Principles:

• You, the student, choose the subjects you wish to study

• The goal is to follow curiosity rather than to impress society

• An equal balance between learning and discovery and creating new art (writing, music, visual art, film, etc.) is ideal.

• The Governess exists as a learning fairy godmother construct to help you frame your discoveries and creative life

• No two people will have identical Governess Modes; it is, by necessity, custom-built to the individual

Let’s be clear: your enjoyment of Governess Mode is the point.

If you aren’t having fun, change something or give this up entirely.

This is not about following the steps that I use as my governess mode. It’s about deciding to pick a list of things that fascinate you, taking those interests seriously, and giving them time and space to grow as part of your investment in your creative work.

For me, being a writer is as much about reading book after book of textile history, working on my German and trying to revive my French, sewing clothes, reading a wide range of fiction and nonfiction as it is about typing words into a keyboard.

In fact, barely any words get typed if I don’t do all the things I listed above. We spend so much time as a society measuring the equivalent of words typed on a keyboard that we forget how exhausting that process becomes without sufficient inspiration to fuel it.

Even when we are inspired, writing books is damned hard work, and whenever I or anyone I know finishes writing one, we collapse in a heap for weeks afterward. Yes, it involves a lot of sitting and staring, but writing and all creative arts burn as much fuel as if we were running ultra marathons day after day.

Governess mode provides the fuel that gets art made.

Here’s how I started living like I have the best governess ever directing my education:

1. I pay close attention to what lights me up. If I get a spark and think, “fascinating!” I take that seriously and make a note of it.

2. I experiment with these topics for a bit. Some get boring quickly, but some stick. Not everything has to be a learning project.

3. Which teacher would be my dream instructor in this subject? They don’t have to be alive, and I can have more than one. Books, films, articles, and even live classes are all possible if I’m lucky.

4. A variety of subjects is ideal. I like to mix cerebral topics, like languages, with handicrafts, like sewing and knitting. Mixing these into my day means I get inspired by different experiences, and this is more likely to match my mood.

5. No goal-setting with these subjects. I pursue them because I find them fun. That is enough. This sometimes means reaching a milestone, like sewing a coat, but the point was the fun, not the coat as proof I’m using my time wisely.

It is so easy for us to morph activities we enjoy into work. The lure of the side hustle seemed to be a way to combine work and fun, but what it really did was to take everything we loved and turn it into our jobs. Not exactly the delightful outcome we hoped for.

I prefer to follow a governess of my choosing, one who seeks joy for no other purpose than the improvements it gives us every day. If I could have anyone as my governess, it would surely be Ruth Gordon as Maude in the iconic Harold and Maude,1 perhaps an even more subversive film now than in its release year, 1971.

I have recently finished reading the second book in a series by Robert Jackson Bennett. The first book is The Tainted Cup. The second book is A Drop of Corruption. A significant part of these stories involves the main character who has had his memory altered so that it is legally admissible. He’s called an engraver because memories are literally engraved into his mind, and how he holds onto these memories is to encode them with tiny vials of scent.

This feels delicious to me because I’ve noticed my memory functions similarly. There are scents that call up a particular time and place more vividly than photographs, more vividly than textures, more vividly even than going back to those same places. The scent of them brings them alive. For some reason, this seems to be true particularly with shampoos. I have two shampoos currently that capture times and places better than anything else I could have constructed for such a purpose.

Interestingly, neither of them was deliberately chosen. I simply had my hair washed at my hairdresser’s one day and inhaled a scent that transported me to the beach we went to for two weeks every summer when I was a child. It had the particular smell of the sunscreen that we used, which I think was Coppertone. And I don’t think that the smell of the sunscreen would completely capture the scent that this shampoo does. Now, when I’m in the shower, it’s steamed up and I’m washing my hair with the giant one-liter bottle I ordered, I am suddenly eight again, running across the sand, ready to run into the ocean. And the gift that this has given me is beyond what I could expect from just washing my hair.

The other shampoo is one I bought to replace one that had tragically been discontinued. I selected another scent, and when I smelled that one, I was suddenly 12 years old and back at camp. And I felt the rivets of the trunk I packed my clothes in. I can remember the books I read that summer. I can walk around in my mind inside the bathroom and shower where I was navigating the complexity of an early period. All of this came back to me, and I have learned I am now two-thirds of the way through this bottle of shampoo, which I have just used now to wash my hair in the bath and have realized I’m going to have to get another one so that I have access to these memories into the future.

The funny thing is we can’t control when these scents come, unless we’ve used a particular perfume for a long time. I have one, L’Ombre dans l’Eau by Diptyque, that calls up a particular Christmas when I bought it in San Francisco. I can put it on and I can feel like I’m in my 20s again, wandering in Union Square in San Francisco, just having finished graduate school. And there is a particular spark I can access when wearing that perfume that doesn’t come from other places.

I think part of governess mode is accepting that we aren’t just heads on top of bodies. I particularly love the description of this that Ken Robinson talks about in one of his many gorgeous TED talks in which he says that our education system was designed to crank out university professors. Successful graduates end up living in their heads and, as he puts it, slightly to one side.

And I think for a long time that was very much how I lived or how I wanted to live because it felt so much simpler. The body felt like a complexity or a liability, something I didn’t want to sink into. It’s very easy to see something like monk mode and to think, “Ah yes, finally I will be freed of the body.” But I realize now that I don’t want that because if I was free of a body, I wouldn’t be able to smell these smells and I wouldn’t have access to these versions of myself that come along with them.

What I want is to think of the body as a portal, to think of the body as a friend and to make it a partner and ally in this idea of governess mode. And it’s for this reason that things that people may find frivolous, like nice stationery, like makeup, like the clothing we wear, is part of the mode for me. I dress myself up like a character when I want to feel a certain way. I use a certain shampoo or wear a certain lipstick or choose which glasses I’m going out in for the day based on what version of myself or what portal to myself I want to activate. And this is part of governess mode too. It’s a discovery, it’s a continual discovery. It’s a relationship we build with ourselves and with our imagination because it is so ephemeral, the imagination, but it lives in the senses, too.

So the point is not to live in the least embodied part of ourselves, but to recognize the points where the ephemeral gets caught or where it clings onto reality in a physical sense, and to note those points of contact and to embrace them and to remember where they are so that we can pass through them to get back to that ephemeral way of thinking and being.

It reminds me a lot of Philip Pullman’s book, The Subtle Knife. It’s like senses can be that knife that cuts through into another reality. We think that the only way through is our mind, but I don’t think that’s true. So a lot of this operating in governess mode is an attempt to build a reliable way through, a reliable way—or maybe not reliable because that makes it feel too mundane. It’s more like a practice than it is a metal door we can open to see the same thing every time.

Finding governess mode is seeking portals to experience that light up your curiosity, like fireflies on a summer evening. We see the lights flashing around us and chase them, mostly for the joy of seeing where we go.

Most of us have so many adult responsibilities to attend to that we cross curiosity off the list as a waste of time. But curiosity is where we find answers that haven’t been available before. We need this now.

When you think of “governess mode” what comes to mind? And if you could have anyone as your magical governess, who would it be?

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If you’ve ever worried that writing or painting or making films or sewing or whatever creative pursuits light you up are frivolous or unimportant, please accept this conversation as our argument that creativity is ESSENTIAL.

Arts budgets are the first ones that get cut. Artists are hard to control. We need to continue not only to tell the truth but also to encourage others. When authoritarian regimes try to control and repress, whimsy confounds them.

We hope to continue this conversation:

What does whimsy mean to you?
How are you giving your creativity life now?

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Resources discussed in this live:1

• The inspiring Reel we mentioned at the beginning: Tara deFrancisco on why art matters.

• Oliver Burkeman. His newsletter from yesterday was excellent, as are his books, especially 4000 Weeks and Meditation for Mortals.

• Sir Ken Robinson’s Ted talks are iconic for a reason, especially the one on why creativity is as important as literacy. I love his definition of creativity, “The process of having original ideas that have value,” as well as the entire talk, honestly. If you haven’t seen it, it’s a MUST.

If you’ve toyed with keeping a reading journal but find it more of a hassle than a fun project, hopefully this live will change your mind. Thank you so much to those who joined us live yesterday. Nerding out about stationery is ALWAYS such a joy.

I am certain I will forget some bits I mentioned, so ask if I’ve left…

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Light returns

Blue sky greeted me this morning as I drank coffee with Hugo in my lap. Sadly, he only got a short snooze today, as I’m off to Paris in the morning for a weekend of stationery and pastry hunting, plus some research for a project I’ll share soon.

The sun now assembles the cats in bright squares on the bed into the afternoon, and I don’t need lights on until after five. The season is shifting, and I’m ready for the brighter afternoons, the breeze coming in the windows, and lighter jackets outside.

Reading shifts as seasons do, and different choices pile up on my nightstand these days — I want my characters out on adventures rather than cozied up indoors. As I write this, The Proof of My Innocence by Jonathan Coe is up next. A cover featuring a suit-wearing man with his head replaced by a massive red flame feels incredibly timely.

I’ve started keeping a super-simple reading journal this year, and it’s already changing the way I read and remember stories and details. Given our mutual love of school supplies, I suspect you’ll enjoy discussing this process in our March Member’s live.

Changing the name of this space has shifted more than the surface. Becoming the governess of my mind has opened up a new way of learning. Collecting a stack of books for the month has surfaced themes and threads to follow. Keeping a record of what I notice cements those connections for further snuffling. I’m a truffle pig now, which is no surprise given how much that bookshop smell entices.

One of my particular obsessions lately is resistance. How can one write and make art to take a stand? And how can this happen without total despair? Besides following book tunnels of ideas, discussions with friends have opened up the best kind of Pandora’s boxes.

This performance by First Amendment Dance reminded me of what art can spotlight. What our work can do. and I hit on the idea of whimsy as a path to resistance, and it lit us both up. We hope you will join us live in March for a conversation on what artists can do now.

In the meantime, feed the creative part of yourself. Read books that nourish, watch stories of artists, and look at work made in turbulent times as inspiration. I’ll get to see a collection of Leonora Carrington’s paintings in Paris, and as a woman who painted through the 1930s, she has so much to teach creatives today.

Take good care of yourself; keep reading, keep learning, and keep creating.

Lots of love,
Caroline

More to discover:

Inspiration from February:

• If you haven’t yet watched it, Bad Bunny’s Superbowl Halftime performance is another joyous act of creative resistance.

• Short and sweet thoughts from on staying connected to your writing during a tough or distracting time.

• It’s Booker longlist season. Does anyone read the entire long or short list, or do you wait for them to announce the winner?

• went to India recently, and the photos she shared of the flowers there are almost as good as a holiday. In one there is an ENTIRE heap of flowers. I cannot fathom how many are in there.

• , founder of the beautiful LA stationery shop, Baum-Kuchen, shares stories of hand-binding notebooks and making hydrosols in a contraption that looks right out of a steampunk novel. I swooned, truly.

What’s on in March

March events for members:

• Jane Eyre continues, running until May.

• March 6: Member’s Live: The Be Your Own Governess Reading Journal (details here)

UPGRADE TO JOIN

Free for all:

• March 26: and I are going live to chat about creative resistance and whimsy. I can’t wait! This is a new time slot — later in the day for Europe and North America and extra super early morning for Australia (Details here)

Hope you can join in for a live soon!

We covered:

• Writing about craft on Substack

• How writing about crafting changes and deepens the experience

• How knitting, sewing, and other crafts feed our writing

• The increased desire to see human objects in the time of AI

• Some favorite patterns

• The neuroscience of crafting

• AND a very special pattern for an emotional support animal

Resources mentioned:

• Louise’s sweater by Tin Can

• Caroline’s sweater by Woolfolk

• Caroline’s tiny scarf by Petite Knit

• Emotional support knitting pattern

• Crochet version

• Caroline’s Tote by Modern Sewing Co. (tutorial also available to add)

• Betsan Corkhill’s website — book Knit for Health and Wellness is available there.

Everyone come join for my live with Louise on Friday, 20 February! Details here.

Books discussed:

• Fashionopolis, Dana Thomas

• Less, Patrick Grant

• Worn, Sofi Thanhauser

• Fabric, Victoria Fi…

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2026 Begins

The northern lights came to Germany this past month, along with enduring snow. As I write this letter, the roof tiles are encased in ice, and the city feels like it’s holding its breath, waiting for warmer days.

It has been a freezing January, not only in temperature. I’ve been afraid to look at the news, and after looking, I’ve struggled to hold all that is happening. Writing has felt heavier, knowing the atrocities happening around the world.

What has helped is reading a massive amount of books. I’ve hit a book a day a few times this month, needing another world to escape into. Rereading Jane Eyre to prepare for the slow read was an excellent start to the year; her life has a painful start, and yet she finds the inner resources to continue. That example has kept me going through the dark days.

And yet, there are still little miracles around us. Friends up much later than me sent photographs of the Northern Lights, spotted from balconies across Berlin. What magic! I never thought this urban setting would allow us to see that gorgeous sparkle. If we keep our eyes open, and sometimes stay up past bedtime, there is still magic out there to find.

Part of that magic appears in community. I went to the most wonderful book club I’ve ever attended this month: nearly thirty people gathered in a small flat, crowded in with tea and cake, to talk about how much we all love books. There was no assigned reading beforehand, only an invitation to bring a book we’d enjoyed (or hated) in 2025 to discuss as well as a book we’d be willing to give away for a book swap.

I met multiple fascinating new people, and we introduced ourselves not with small talk, but with a book that we shared in small circles on the floor scattered throughout the flat. I, of course, ended up with the noise-sensitive people in a separate room with the coats to buffer the chattering crowd.

We ended the evening with an auction of sorts, with our hostess holding up the swappable books we’d brought and inviting the donor to give an intro. People called out yes for the books they wanted until we’d divided up the stack among eager new readers. It was a gift, spending a few hours with so many book lovers.

If we look around carefully, the readers are always there. Keep looking, keep reading, keep sharing. We will weather this time together, speaking up for what we believe in along the way.

Thank you for being part of this community — it has been such a help to know we will be reading together again very soon.

And now for my recent favorites:

Favorite reads from the end of 2025:

As a twist on our usual format, I shared a review of recent favorite books in our first member’s live of 2026. In addition, learn about my book stack project that is ongoing for 2026.

Inspiration from January:

• As we watch the world get crazier and scarier every day, ’s gorgeous post on Frederick Douglass’s notes and writing rang especially true.

• A friend shared this snail mail club, and it is the cutest thing I have seen in ages and might just change the world. (Beware - she designs especially good stickers.)

• ’s beautiful piece on Alex Pretti and the events in Minneapolis is essential reading for all humans.

• (also a local to Minneapolis) has excellent resources and links to follow up and help in this post.

• ’s beautiful piece about Norway and the work of two artists, a writer and a painter, cut short by the death and trauma during WWII, is both moving and timely.

What’s on in February

February events for members:

• February 2 Jane Eyre’s slow read begins, running until May.

• February 13 Member’s live: January favorite reads and book chat. (details here)

UPGRADE TO JOIN

Free for all:

• February 20 and I are going live to discuss the relationship between handcraft and writing — free for all. (Details here)

Hope to see you there — replays will be available for all lives, too.

I didn’t think this would be so hard.

I have heard this, or some form of it, from nearly every client and student I’ve ever had. When people come to me for coaching, often what they’re hoping to find is an easier way to write.

There is no advantage in making writing — or any creative art — harder than it needs to be. I don’t see any benefit in martyring …

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The post I referenced about making a monthly reading stack is here:

Other books mentioned:

• All Grown Up,

• The Cazalet Chronicles, Elizabeth Jane Howard

• Hark: How Women Listen,

• The Josephine Tey mysteries, starting with An Expert in Murder, Nicola Upson

• The Listeners, Maggie Stiefvater

• Heated Riva…

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Please enjoy the replay!

Resources mentioned:

• Audio of just the meditation to re-listen later:

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