When I told the girl I met on the bus that I had lost my notebook, she gasped “Oh NO!”. I was confused.
“How much was it!?” she exclaimed with the typical “glad it wasn’t me” look most strangers give others when they hear of such things.
“Um…about 12 bucks…”
Suddenly the look of realization is visible in her eyes “Oh you mean an actual NOTEBOOK! I thought you were talking about a laptop!”.
The notebook of a writer is often as ironic as what is written inside of it. The level of control and manipulative abilities the state of any of my notebooks can have over my mind is spooky. The pages of a notebook, when blank, can be inspiring or terrifying.
Before a looming deadline, for instance, the purchase of a new notebook can act as a last stand – an almost-hopeful act of defiance against the feeling of crumbling doom and lack of inspiration envelopes the self-proclaimed author.
The purchase of a new notebook out of necessity, however, following the satisfying tap of its cover to its pages as the last line is filled, can be a reassuring act of challenging oneself to write even more.
Similarly, a newly-hired writer purchasing a notebook on their way home from their successful job interview, and choosing the leather-covered model over the metal-spiraled one, saying softly – with an air of excitement and pride: “I can afford you now. I am a writer” is a demonstration of inspiration. Of hope.
My experience today was none of the above. My motivation for purchase of a new notebook was not particularly specifically inspired, nor was it guild-ridden. No, I bought a new notebook because I lost the previous one. I left it at a Starbucks in Downtown Los Angeles near to the Town Hall.
Some of you may STILL be thinking “oh no!” (while others simply doubt the value of reading this post at all). Well, not to fear, everything from the notebook is in my head. I do feel guilty, however, for not filling up the empty pages before leaving it to the mercy city. I simply hope someone who will use it as well or better than I was able to find it.
My old notebook, a large reporter’s style notebook (13x21cm) was too large to fit in my pocket, thus I had to store it in the back-pocket of my daybag. It turned out to be quite a task to pull it out, open it up, and write what I needed down (which is only usually one to two lines).
The effort expended to achieve this simple task, was almost not worth writing things down in the first place. Somehow, I feel my subconscious may have sabotaged my conscious and forgotten the notebook on purpose. Maybe it was tired of dealing with its large-ness too.
My NEW notebook, is a smaller, pocket sized (9x14cm) black model. It, like all other Moleskines has a expandable inner pocket with which I can store brochures from various attractions (for transferring data into my computer later) as well as receipts or ticket-stubs for pricing documentation.
And it turns out that when I purchased my new notebook, I felt inspired. Upon exiting the store, I perched myself on a particularly flat window ledge and began to write.
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{ 2 comments… read them below or add one }
Awwww… your notebook is so small…. cute. I liked the bigger on e better. Miss you tons, can’t wait to see you.
Your Love,
Amanda
I see Julie is becoming Amanda. Please tell her I said hi.
Very cute piece on your notebook. Held my interest. And, I like the photo as well.