#5 Just for December

a helpful screenshot, winter break + vibes

👋🏼👋🏼👋🏼. Hi. I’m so happy to see you! How to Build a Life launched in August 2024, and now has thousands of readers in over 70 countries (!). You can expect personal stories about life’s mess and mayhem and the search for a way of living that feels right, in amongst being a solo parent by choice, chin hair, decorating my new house and trying to hold on to the magic I’m sure I felt more fully once. Didn’t I? It’s written by me, bookclub romance author and queen of the meet-cute Laura Jane Williams. I’m currently writing my 15th book, whilst also popping up here twice a week too. I love both things! Don’t make me choose!

Gorgeous friends.

Funny week, this week. Not quite the full stop to the year we all look forward to, but we’re not in the middle of a paragraph either. This week is like episodes nine and ten of a limited series that should have only been eight. I think to myself, what is the point of this week? Shouldn’t we all just down tools already? But then of course it would only serve to move up the funny week, because the week before a break is always like this, and so I think we’d only get earlier and earlier until essentially having to stop work in August.

(Should I make a joke here about how that sounds nice? Because babes, at a family party this weekend I monologued to my cousin about how jobs are a scam and anti-capitalism is our only choice for surviving the future and she said, essentially, that I was bumming her out. But then another cousin said he scouts out hiding places along the river when he goes running, in case his family ever need to do a runner when we all turn on each other over scraps of land once everything goes into full collapse. We should do a poll! Which cousin are you more like! But don’t pick me, don’t pick this cousin, this cousin agrees with the last person she spoke to.)

(I am… ready for the break.)

Right now I’m at my desk, instrumental Christmas music on, and I’m sort of half doing everything: half eating a mince pie, half writing my 2026 book, half thinking about the next episode of Apples Don’t Fall (BBC iPlayer or Peacock, supremely slept on imo)… and yes, half thinking about 2025, but not in any way that I am prepared to commit to with my full chest, not yet.

That said. Because I struggle to be where I am and suffer from what the kids call future tripping and I call anticipatory anxiety because I must try to mitigate for all variables or else the world will stop spinning and it will be all my fault I will admit to having a piece of A4 paper by my laptop, titled 2025, that I’ve been adding to as things have idly crossed my mind this past few weeks, as a Potter-esque pensieve . So far it says:

• new headshots

• more human being and less human doing

• the goal is not a clean life free of friction

• the success trap

• travel and memories are the priority

I think it speaks to what my vibe has been (“how do we build a life? No seriously. Somebody tell me.”) and where my new year vibe will probably go (somewhere in the ballpark of simplicity and connection, but with up-to-date author photos). For now, though? Christmas!

I define Christmas proper as Christmas Eve, Christmas Day and Boxing Day. The festive season, though, starts after Halloween, at your leisure, at your discretion. Is that early? Yes. But this is where future tripping shows off its upside, because you get to slowly grow the seasonal spirit, like strawberries in a greenhouse. Imagine the vibes, prepare for the vibes, cultivate the vibes lovingly, and give yourself something to look forward to. Once the clocks have changed and it’s suddenly dark all the time, I think it’s a baller move to have as many fairy lights in your house as possible, to be honest. Why postpone the pleasure?

I’ve thrown myself into it this year, worried about winter as I was. Think, a little list-making here, a bit of a panto trip there. A sprinkle of a family shindig, a flutter of toy shopping with mum. Nothing wild, nothing crazy, don’t overload it, keep it fun. It’s been a good lead-in. And then once the big three days are done - which I use solely for the annual family jigsaw, champagne, and Cadbury Heroes - I’ll stop being social. Sleep in. Read. Talk about taking a few walks whilst actually taking zero. That’s the proper break. A collective exhale until the new year, where nobody knows what day it is. Gorgeous. Utterly gorgeous.

(Oh. And as for New Year’s Eve? I don’t know her.)

My camera roll is sparse this month, but I’d still love to share some photos with you if I may. It’s all very wholesome and mostly home-based.

ted visited, i got dressed up to go out, we made a french yogurt cake, winter whites feel healing, my kid wrote me a voucher for £10, THREE advent calendars!!, dad’s Christmas cake, my face for no reason, a sublime book. So, so good.

got a french girl bob, we’re in games-playing season in this house, me pointing at the cheeseboard i’m about to bring to this party, improvised “santa’s sleigh” cocktails (prosecco and pomegranate juice), festive scenes, another totally sublime book, we wrapped up some sweets to play pass the parcel with four people just because, jigsaws are happening people!! and me writing in my parents’ spare bedroom, desperate to get down another 1,000 words of this book

I’m not doing “what I achieved this year” reflections, here or privately, because, quite frankly, I can’t be arsed. But if I did have to pinpoint a win of 2024, it would be that I switched hairdressers. For five years I’ve had a good hairdresser, who I liked, but I never came away loving my hair. And then the gym girls vouched for a salon around the corner, and I met Beth, and two days ago Beth got me in at the last minute and gave me a French Girl Bob and I feel sensational. Like the prettiest girl in the world! Like this is what I’m supposed to look like, but I only just got the memo! Last time I went short I looked like a King Charles Cavalier. But this time, with Beth, I am, quite simply, smokin’ hot. Not a bad way to end things, huh?

So that’s me for the year. I’ll be back in your inbox first thing in the morning on the 6th of January, ready to further unpick how we build a life that fits and hold on to the magic we all deserve. You might have seen yesterday that I had a flash sale on subscriptions for How to Build a Life, to better fit in with what I’m searching for here in 2025. If you click here before tomorrow you can get a year’s annual membership for £20. £20! Basically, whilst I don’t know much about the new year just yet, I do know that I’m forever in search of community - that’s a timeless pursuit - and so I’d love to have you with me for the How to Build a Life ride, for a full twelve months, so we can really get to know one another. Commitment, man. There’s freedom in it. And for me, knowing you’re around for the whole year means I can write even truer, even deeper, even more myself, because you’re not going anywhere. In return, I promise to keep showing up and parsing through what it means to build a life, open-hearted as can be.

(If you subscribe to HTBAL monthly and want to switch to the £20 offer, it’s a pain! You have to unsubscribe in totality, and then resubscribe for the annual rate. It’s not my fault! It’s Substack, the platform host! I apologise for your trouble anyway!)

As a parting gift, here’s a screenshot I took this morning that spoke to me. Maybe it will speak to you too:

Love always,

Laura x