One email every morning · Computed while you sleep
Your sun-sign horoscope was written for a twelfth of everyone alive. This one is computed from your exact birth chart — every night, we check the whole sky against your natal points and write you the three moments that are genuinely yours, clock times included.
Your first seven mornings are free — the real thing, from your real chart. $9 a month billed yearly after, if it earned it.
Clear head on how you actually feel. Say the thing simply, early.
Friction with someone in charge. Pick the fight that matters, skip the rest.
Direct, physical energy. A good window for focused effort.
One thing
Send the message you've been drafting. Keep it kind. Keep it short.
Why three degrees
An aspect's orb is how far it sits from exact — and orb is where most astrology goes mushy. We cut hard at three degrees, stricter than most traditions, on purpose. A tight aspect is a real event with a time attached; a wide one is wallpaper. Everything wide is discarded overnight, before a single word gets written.
The same morning, two ways
Same date, same sky, same reader. The difference is what the brief is allowed to know: a sign brief can only describe the sky. A natal brief can name the exact point in your chart the sky is touching — and the minute it happens.
Today's hits
Plans may shift. Hold the outcome loosely and keep the day flexible.
A steady day for putting something in writing.
Timing
No timing windows — timing needs a birth chart, and a horoscope doesn't have yours.
Today's hits
Clear head on how you actually feel. Say the thing simply, early.
Friction with someone in charge. Pick the fight that matters, skip the rest.
Timing
Both describe the same day. Times shown are the moments those aspects go exact — real ephemeris facts, not rounded for effect.
How it works
Late at night, we run every planet in tomorrow's sky against every point in your birth chart.
Anything wider than 3° of orb is thrown out. Most days, only three or four moments make it through.
What survives becomes plain English — waiting in your inbox when you wake up.
Beyond the inbox
A brief tells you a transit perfects at 4:12. That's useful at breakfast and forgotten by lunch. So natal readers can also be told at 4:12 — the one window in the day when the aspect is genuinely exact rather than merely nearby.
Two a day, maximum. Quiet hours you set yourself. Off until you switch it on. Astro-Log also installs to your home screen, keeps every past morning readable, and signs you in with a link — no password to forget.
Premium · the weekly and the monthly
A daily brief is the right size for a day and the wrong size for a decision. So Premium adds two more documents, computed from the same chart by the same engine: a weekly that lands Sunday morning for the week ahead, and a monthly that names the slow transits arcing across it. Same filter, same refusal to pad — a longer window is not permission to say more.
This is a week with a hard opening and a soft middle. Saturn sits on your natal Mars from Monday, which is the whole week's weather rather than an event in it — effort meets resistance, and the resistance is structural, not personal. By midweek Venus reaches your natal Moon and the register changes entirely. The end of the week belongs to the shared sky rather than to you.
The dated peaks
The thing you push against pushes back with a schedule attached. This is the week's floor, not its ceiling: do the slow, unglamorous version of the work and it holds.
The easiest hours of the week for saying something true to someone who matters. It asks for warmth rather than effort — which is why it is worth using deliberately instead of letting it pass.
Everyone alive gets this one; it touches no point in your chart. Good for reading, planning and talking in large terms, and a reminder that not every bright day in the sky is about you.
Lean in
Watch for
A week that asks for patience first and gives warmth second. Take the hard part at the start on its own terms and the rest of it is yours.
What's in one
No report will ever tell you how many aspects your week contains. Days are ranked by how slow the transiting planet is and how hard the aspect is — a tally would be a number that sounds like information and isn't.
No birth time on file? The reports are the same price and the same length. Your chart is computed across every hour you could have been born, so everything in them is true whichever hour it was — and the parts the hour decides are left out rather than guessed.
Premium is $15 a month billed yearly ($180), or $20 month to month. See the plans
For entertainment and self-reflection. Not a substitute for professional advice.
What it costs
There's no watered-down tier. Every reader gets the real thing — computed from their exact birth chart — for a full week. After seven mornings you'll know whether it's worth it; most decisions about this take about two. Then there are two plans: the daily brief on its own, or the daily brief plus a weekly and a monthly report written from the same chart.
Your full natal brief every day for a week — natal points named, minutes included. No card to start.
On the eighth morning the natal brief stops. You keep a free sun-sign brief every day unless you tell us to stop — nothing is charged automatically, ever. Your archive stays readable either way.
$9 a month, billed yearly ($108) — or $12 month to month. A newsletter with an audience of one.
NatalThe daily brief
$9per month, billed yearly, after 7 free mornings
$108 once a year, or $12 a month if you’d rather go month to month. Three months free versus monthly.
Checkout isn't open yet — but the seven free mornings are. Start them now, and leave your email to be first through the door the day subscriptions open.
PremiumDaily + reports
$15per month, billed yearly
$180 once a year, or $20 a month if you’d rather go month to month. Three months free versus monthly.
Premium checkout isn't open yet either. Start the natal week now and your own free premium week is still waiting — the two are separate, one each, taken whenever you like. See what the reports are.
Give a brief
An odd, lovely gift: a short email about them, every single morning. You send their name and email with a note; they claim it privately and add their own birth details. You're never asked for them — their chart stays theirs, even from you.
Buy for a friendReasonable questions
Natal is the daily brief: every morning, the moments in that day's sky that touch your own chart, with the minute each one goes exact. Premium is all of that plus two more documents computed from the same chart — a weekly report that lands Sunday morning for the week ahead, and a monthly report that names the slow transits arcing across it. Each one gives you the shape of the window, its dated peaks, what to lean into and what to watch for; the monthly adds the arc, which is what stops a month from reading as a longer week. Natal is $9 a month billed yearly ($108), or $12 month to month. Premium is $15 a month billed yearly ($180), or $20 month to month. Neither report will ever tell you how many aspects your week holds — days are ranked by how slow the transiting planet is and how hard the aspect is, and a tally is a number that sounds like information and isn't.
The email keeps arriving. That's the part people expect to be untrue, so it's worth being plain about: nothing is cancelled, nothing pauses, and nothing is charged — there's no card on file and no subscription to renew. What changes is which brief lands. When the natal week ends you go back to a free sun-sign brief every morning. When the premium week ends, the weekly and monthly reports stop and you go back to whatever you already had — the natal daily brief if you subscribe to it, the free sun-sign brief if you don't. Your archive stays readable through all of it, and one click in any email stops the lot for good if you'd rather.
No — and not as a policy we could quietly change, but because checkout isn't open yet for either plan. There's nowhere to put a card. Each free week is seven days: one natal week and one premium week per reader, ever, kept separate so taking one never spends the other. They're sequential rather than simultaneous — most people read the natal week first, go back to the free sun-sign brief, and take the premium week later when they want to see what a whole month looks like at once. Leave your email on the plan you want and we'll write to you once, the day subscriptions open, and not before.
Sign up anyway — your seven free mornings start either way, and they're computed from your real chart, not your sun sign. What the hour buys is the Ascendant, the Midheaven and the houses, which move about a degree every four minutes. Without it we leave those out rather than assume noon and call the result your chart: your briefs say only what's true at every hour you could have been born. Add the time in settings whenever you find it and they sharpen automatically, no re-signup. Filling in a blank birth time is free and takes a second; correcting one you already entered is capped at once a month, because a correction re-renders every brief computed from the old chart. The weekly and monthly reports work the same way and cost the same either way: a full-length report, not an apology, with the parts the hour decides left out rather than guessed. Long-form birth certificates usually carry the time, and so do the vital-records offices of most US states.
No, and we won't pretend otherwise. Where the planets are is astronomy — those positions and the minute an aspect goes exact are facts you could check against any ephemeris. What they mean is interpretation, and every brief says so at the bottom. Plenty of people read it the way they read a good horoscope column: a prompt to think about the day, arriving before the day starts.
Because a tight aspect is an event with a time attached and a wide one is wallpaper. Three degrees is stricter than most traditions use, and it's an editorial choice rather than a law of astrology — we'd rather send you three things that are genuinely happening than twelve things that are technically true. You'll also never see a decimal orb in a brief: no tradition resolves meaning below about a degree, so a number like 2.4° would be false precision dressed up as authority.
Your delivery hour and your timezone are both yours to change in settings, whenever. Your birth data stays as it was — that's fixed by the moment you were born, not by where you live now.
We compute your chart with it. That's the whole list. It's never sold, never shared with advertisers, and never handed to anyone else — including whoever gifts you a subscription, who is never asked for it and never shown it. Ask us to delete your account and we delete the birth data with it.
Every email carries a one-click unsubscribe that needs no login. If you'd rather just take a break, settings has a pause — delivery stops, your archive stays, and it keeps filling in while you're away.
Start your daily brief
Give us your birth details and tomorrow's brief is already yours — computed from your exact chart, not your sign. Nothing is charged during the week, or automatically after it.