When I was younger, I would fill journals with poetry. Page after page, in different colors of ink, from well-formed letters to passionately scrawled lines. Then, I used writing as an outlet. It was personal, never meant for anyone else but me. It was the voice that had to stay silent, the one that spoke my truths.
Now, after passing through the teen angst and parting ways with my childhood demons, I write for others. It’s not about letting go of emotions or feelings anymore, it’s about creating something worth sharing with others. I used to be that person that would carry around a notebook and pen everywhere: to work, to school, at home, even to the bar. But that’s when it was for me.
And it isn’t just that I matured, or that I changed, it was also the type of writing that moved on. Poetry called to me less and less, and longer, more complex pieces started to pull at my thoughts and ingrain themselves into mind.
And as my writing matured along with me, pouring my soul into a notebook no longer seemed necessary. Instead of only having a voice on paper, I started to exercise my thoughts in speaking, which gradually changed how important I felt writing tools were to me.
I only use my notebook now to jot down things that I know will take me a long time to get to, or minute details that I want to remember for a future story. I save my laptop for when I am actively immersed in writing a story or a post.
I rely on my memory to keep all of the thoughts and ideas and possibilities stored in folders and files and bins, lightly covered in dust, in the corners of my mind. Of course, this is probably a highly irresponsible way to keep things, but when I have an idea, it has to reach a certain point before it deserves to go on paper, just having the thought isn’t enough for it to deserve a physical form.
What was once something that I couldn’t be parted with no matter the cause, is now something that I use on occasion to keep track of long pieces. The tools that I use are no longer as important to me compared to the value of the idea and the purpose of the content. Though I won’t say no to a nice moleskine, and I did receive a feather quill and ink pot as a gift once (though, as far as I can tell, their only use is in creating Shakespearean-style signatures that banks do not appreciate).
Do you go everywhere with a notebook? What kinds of things do you put in it?
I’ll be on Facebook until next time.