I’ve mentioned before that I’ve been writing since I could hold a pen. Some of my favorite possessions are the writing notebooks I’ve filled over the years. Usually spiral bound notebooks, I’ve littered thousands of pages with my stories, drawings, and outlines. I love to go back and look at these old treasures and see how different my writing was in years past. How different I was when I wrote those scenes.
It is amazing to me, to go back and read over these notebooks. Some have really great story ideas! Others showcase very well the issues I might have been going through as an adolescent. The level of angst on the page was usually indicative of something occurring in my real life. 😉
As I grew more competent with the computer (entering high school), my story notebooks became Word documents. I have many of these littered throughout my various hardrives, but my favorite form of these treasures are my writing notebooks. As an adult, I’ve come to use them again. I find meaning in the scent of the lined paper and the feel of it beneath my hand. I love the way ink flows over the plane of the page. So, every now and then, just to help me remember my roots and to keep myself grounded, I pull out a fresh spiral notebook and let the words flow. Even if I have no intention of taking the words anywhere outside the notebook, it’s enough that they’re there for my future self to dig up and muse over.