Rebecca Varcoe

About My TinyLetter

Small, strange things. Sometimes sad, sometimes funny, sometimes very stupid. “Very Short Stories” is a weekly (mostly weekly) letter of micro fiction, poetry and other bits and pieces I can’t find a fancy name for.

Subscribe Here:


Men To Include If I Ever Write a Script 

1. The salesman at Vitamin Crazy in Northcote Plaza who wears his tan turtleneck under an ill-fitting 90’s-style leather jacket

2. Rosie’s colleague’s partner, who does not use towels and instead uses a hairdryer to blow-dry his entire body after showering


Like The Drew Barrymore Film

Riding In Cars With Boys And The Boys Are All Driving Me; The Boys Are My Uber Drivers and Also Taxi Drivers And I’m Sitting In The Backseat But Not In a Sexy Way – We’re Not Kissing It’s Not Like That, I’ve Never Had Sex In A Car Or Anything It’s Just I Thought About This Title When I Had To Order a Taxi For Work Last Week – A Memoir by Rebecca Varcoe


Shopping List for A Café

Aesop handwash
Generic handwash to refill the Aesop handwash containers with when it runs out


Notes For My Next Shit Guided Meditation 

Weeping while reading advice coloumns, almalgamated caramel and nuts pooling at the edges of your mouth where you bit down cos the Snickers was too cold to bite with your front teeth. Now you’re crying a bit, and ‘cos your nose is blocked you’ve gotta cry open-mouthed, and so you’re dripping melted chocolate onto your fresh sheets.


Overhead on the Hurstbridge Line: A Poem

What are you doing
What is SHE doing
Why is she there
Yeah true
Talk soon


When I Got Kind of Horny By Accident Listening to Hunters and Collectors

You pulling my head back off the edge of the bed, breathing a ‘sorry’ when I meant ‘thank you’ because I always do that. Skin moving from soft to slick, because how else can our bodies make the squelching sound I still try not to be embarrassed of? It’s hard not to sentimentalise when you put on the crackliest record and sing along, when your lips look like that. When your hands move slowly, when your tongue is in my mouth and I don’t normally like that but, oh, it’s nice now. And I will kiss you in four places, is that really the words? Is that really how the song goes? What are the four places and do I get to choose?


A Love Letter I Never Sent

The ulcer on the tip of my tongue reminds me of you, and I feel guilty for that.


Why did you start a TinyLetter?

I wanted to motivate myself to write more, to try a low-pressure way of trying new types of writing and sharing my secret strange things.
Originally I wanted it to be practice at writing funny things, something I want to be better at. But sometimes I get sad and it’s not so funny. Sometimes I think it’s funny, but then it’s not funny.

What is your experience of the community?

I have never had as much nice, warm feedback as I have had from the people who read my Tinyletter. Maybe thats because it’s opt-in, maybe it’s because I have nice friends, or maybe it’s because I’m an amazing, amazing TinyLetter writer. Probably not that last one though.

What advice would you give?

Just Do It (insert Nike tick)

I’m an arts and culture writer from Melbourne. I write funny things, silly things, sometimes serious things, and I make the magazine Funny Ha Ha.

My work has appeared in places like The Saturday Paper, frankie, Junkee, Overland and more.