Friday, 1 July 2016

The Wonderful Joy of the simple Notebook


I love paper. Fresh white paper. Crumpled tea-stained paper. Lined paper. Squared paper. Cream paper.
I'm not a fan of coloured paper, that's unnecessary. (Unless you like making origami, which on occasion, I do.)
I love pens. Ballpoint pens. Biros. Fountain pens. Expensive pens. Cheap pens. (I have to buy cheap pens because I take them everywhere with me and I always lose them.) 
I write in black ink. (I hate blue ink, it looks scruffy.) 
In my notebooks I only use black ink. 
If I want to write in my notebook and I only have a pen that has blue ink then I can't write in my notebook, I'll have to write on a separate piece of paper and then copy the writing in later when I find a black pen. 

You're trying to make up your mind if I'm being serious or not right now aren't you? 

I have several notebooks. Each notebook is for a separate project. Each notebook looks different. Some are prettier than others. All of my notebooks are plain. I don't like my notebooks to have pictures of owls or cats or flowers or bicycles on them. My notebooks are serious. But they are also fun. They are a precious thing to me. 
Often my one or more of my notebooks go everywhere with me. This can mean that my bag is sometimes very heavy. It also means that my notebooks are very scruffy, torn at the edges and coffee-stained. But I like them this way.
I rarely ever go anywhere without at least one of my notebooks. 

I love new noteboooks. I love their fresh crisp pages. New notebooks have a certain smell to them, I love that smell. Sometimes when I go into a shop and see a notebook I just have to buy it. It's not a choice, it's a compulsion. There's a certain type of notebook that I just can't resist. I am very fussy about my notebooks. If I don't like it, I can't write in it. I have lots of new notebooks at home. Sometimes it is hard to begin writing in a notebook, I don't want to spoil the fresh clean pages with my scruffy handwriting.

I have very scruffy handwriting. I write fast, as the thoughts pour out of my head. I write fast because I have a terrible memory. Sometimes halfway through writing down an idea it will vanish from my brain. I hate it when that happens. 
I have lots of pieces of paper with random words and ideas written on them. I have to write them down or else I will never remember them. I lose most of these pieces of paper, and subsequently forget that I ever had them in the first place. Sometimes I find them by accident and write stories based on the ideas. Sometimes I find them by accident and think the ideas are terrible.

I am a writer. There are few things more important to me than the simple notebook. It is a wonderful tool, something I use on a daily basis and am sure every other writer does too. (Where would a writer be without a notebook?) It's somewhere to put all my ideas before they abandon me. Somewhere to jot down words or phrases when they pop into my head at the most inconvenient of times. (Yes this is the curse of the writer, it will always be at the most inconvenient time... I'm sure you can imagine.) Writer's brains are wonderful, beautiful, magical things, but no matter how much we promise ourselves we will remember that phrase, we most likely won't. My brain needs a backup storage device, the trusty notebook.

Besides, there's something uniquely wonderful about a scruffy notebook filled with the scribbles of a writer. 




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