Your birth chart · Tomorrow's sky · Exact clock times
A newspaper horoscope gives the same paragraph to roughly 680 million people. Every night, Astro-Log calculates tomorrow's sky against your birth chart, discards every weak contact, and writes only the two or three moments selected for your chart — with the minute each one goes exact.
Seven real natal briefs, from your real chart, no card. Then $9 a month billed yearly — if it earned it. If it didn't, nothing is charged and nothing needs cancelling.
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 horoscopes go soft: widen it enough and every planet touches everyone every day, which is how a forecast gets vague enough to never be wrong. We cut at three degrees — stricter than most traditions, and an editorial choice rather than a law. A tight aspect is a real event with a clock time. Everything wider is discarded overnight, before a single word is written.
The same morning, two ways
The difference isn't the writing. It's what the writer is allowed to know. A sign horoscope 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. 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 tonight, we run every planet in tomorrow's sky against every point in your birth chart. Not your sign — your chart.
Anything wider than 3° of orb is thrown out. Most nights two or three moments survive. Some nights none do, and the brief says so instead of padding.
What survives becomes plain English, with the minute each moment goes exact — waiting in your inbox before you're awake.
Beyond the inbox
A brief tells you Mars squares your Venus at 4:12. Useful at breakfast, gone 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. 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. 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.
Also — Mercury sextile your natal Venus, within 1°. A softer channel running under the friction — the right words for a hard conversation come easier than usual.
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
Every new reader gets the full Natal brief, computed from their own chart, for a week with no card. Then keep it for $9 a month billed yearly, step up to Premium for the weekly and monthly reports, or walk away owing nothing.
The full natal brief every day for a week — your natal points named, minutes included. No card to start.
Nothing is charged automatically, ever — there's no card to charge. The natal brief pauses, a short daily sign note keeps your place, and your archive stays readable.
$9 a month billed yearly ($108), or $12 month to month. Cancel any time from settings and keep access to the end of what you paid for.
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.
No card. Already reading? Sign in to subscribe.
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.
Your separate Premium week is waiting inside the app, no card — or subscribe when you're ready. Already reading? Sign in to choose Premium.
Give a brief
An odd, lovely gift: a short email about them, every single morning. You send a name, an email and a note. They claim it privately and add their own birth details — you're never asked for them and never shown them. Their chart stays theirs, even from you.
Buy for a friendReasonable questions
Natal is the daily brief: each morning, the moments in that day's sky that touch your own chart, with the minute each one goes exact. Premium is that plus two more documents from the same chart — a weekly report every Sunday for the week ahead, and a monthly that names the slow transits arcing across it. Each gives you the shape of the window, its dated peaks, what to lean into and what to watch for. 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 count your aspects for you — days are ranked by how slow the planet is and how hard the aspect, and a tally is a number that sounds like information and isn't.
The email keeps arriving. Nothing is cancelled and nothing is charged — there's no card on file and no subscription to renew. What changes is which email lands. When the natal week ends, a short daily sign note takes the brief's place: real astronomy, still free, but written for your sun sign rather than computed from your chart — exactly the difference the comparison above shows. When a premium week ends, the weekly and monthly reports stop and you keep whatever you already had. Your archive stays readable throughout, and one click in any email stops the lot for good.
No. The natal week at signup and the separate premium week inside the app are both cardless, and neither turns into a charge. If you choose a paid plan, Stripe asks for a card then. If that tier's free week is still unused, checkout shows a seven-day trial with the exact date and amount that will be charged unless you cancel first; otherwise it shows the amount due today. Each tier's free week is available once per reader.
Sign up anyway. Your seven mornings start either way, computed from your real chart. What the hour buys is the Ascendant, the Midheaven and the houses, which move about a degree every four minutes — so without it we leave those out rather than assume noon and call the result your chart. Everything in your briefs is true at every hour you could have been born. Add the time in settings when you find it and they sharpen automatically, no re-signup. Filling in a blank is free and instant; correcting a time you already entered is once a month, because a correction re-renders every brief built on the old chart. The weekly and monthly reports work the same way at the same price: full length, with the parts the hour decides left out rather than guessed. Long-form birth certificates usually carry the time, and so do most US state vital-records offices.
No, and we won't pretend otherwise. Where the planets are is astronomy — the positions, and the minute an aspect goes exact, are facts you can check against any ephemeris. What they mean is interpretation, and every brief says so at the bottom. Plenty of readers treat it the way they'd treat a good 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 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.
Change your delivery hour and timezone in settings, whenever you like. 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. Delete your account from settings and the birth data goes with it.
Every email carries a one-click unsubscribe that needs no login. Want a break instead? Settings has a pause — delivery stops, your archive stays. A paid subscription is managed in Stripe from your settings page: cancel any time and keep paid access through the end of the period you've already paid for.
Start your daily brief
Birth date, birth city, and the hour if you know it. Your seven natal mornings start today and the first one lands tomorrow morning — computed from your chart, not your sign. Nothing is charged during the week, and nothing after it unless you choose to subscribe.