Your details, and what I do with them.

If you’re just reading

Almost nothing happens. The fonts are served from this domain rather than borrowed from Google, so reading a page here doesn’t announce you to anyone.

One small thing, and it’s a dull one: if you arrive from a link that says where you came from — a post, an ad, the back of a book — the site remembers that word (something like instagram) for the length of your visit, so that if you do join the list I know which door you came through. It’s stored in your own browser, it disappears when you close the tab, it isn’t a cookie, it can’t identify you, and it never leaves your browser unless you choose to sign up.

My host keeps ordinary web-server logs, as every web server does. They include IP addresses and are kept briefly for security and to keep the site standing up.

If you join the postcard list

You give me two things:

• Your name — so a postcard can be addressed to you.
• Your email — so a postcard can reach you.

Alongside those, my newsletter service records:

• Roughly where you are — the country your signup came from, worked out from your connection. Not an address; a country.
• Which door you came through — the word mentioned above.
• Whether you open the postcards — the ordinary open-and-click counting every newsletter does, which mostly tells me whether the writing’s landing.

You’ll be asked to confirm by email before anything is sent. That’s deliberate: it means nobody can add you to my list but you.

Who else touches it

These work for me, and only do what I ask:

• MailerLite stores the list and sends the postcards. They’re based in the EU.
• Netlify serves this website and keeps those server logs. They’re based in the US.

I don’t sell the list, rent it, swap it, or hand it to anybody — and I’d be a fool to, because it’s the only thing I have.

How long I keep it

Until you leave, or until I stop writing. If you unsubscribe, your address stays on a small suppression list so my newsletter service knows never to email you again — which is a slightly awkward way of saying the only reason I remember you is so I can keep not bothering you. Ask and I’ll erase it entirely instead.

What you can ask for

A copy of what I hold, a correction, or deletion — no reason needed and no hard feelings. Depending on where you live you may have these rights formally; you have them here regardless. Email hello@annaeverly.com and I’ll sort it out.

The fastest way to leave is the unsubscribe link at the foot of any postcard. It’s instant and it doesn’t ask you to explain yourself.

Getting hold of me

hello@annaeverly.com reaches me. Replies to any postcard do too.

If this changes

If I ever add anything else that watches you, this page changes first, and the postcard list hears about it. I’d rather tell you than have you find out.

Last updated 17 July 2026.