I’m a stationery girl. And no, I don’t mean ‘stationary’. I don’t stand still a lot… sheesh! I mean that I love notebooks! And pens! But it has to be the right notebook and the right pen, because any old crap just will never do!
With pens, it has to be a Bic Z4+ gel pen, 0.7mm nib, black ink. Or for a ball-point, a Sprite Baron with blue ink.
When I buy a brand spanking new notebook (probably Moleskine, soft cover with squared pages ‘cos that’s just how I roll…) I carefully peel off the cellophane, and open it to give the pages a good sniff – there’s nothing like the smell of new paper! I’ll carefully write my name in the inside cover, and I’ll feel the pages and marvel at the loveliness of it in my grubby little paws. But do I write in it? Heck no!
See, I have privacy issues. I’m terrified that someone (Lord knows who this ‘someone’ actually is, but I despise them all the same) is going to come along and just willy-nilly open my notebook and read everything I’ve written and ridicule me or worse… criticise me!
It all stems from when I was a child. I had 3 sisters and the two older ones were forever noseying in my stuff, rummaging round like pigs sniffing out truffles, looking for some juicy titbit to throw in my face for years to come. One Christmas I got a tiny little diary. It had a green plastic cover and it was the most basic little diary, week-to-view, you know the sort. Anyway, as I was probably about 8 years old at the time I didn’t have all that much to write in it, so I maybe just wrote what I watched on TV or if I had a good day at school or (as in this example) what I had for lunch. So, I had beans on toast one day, and I made a note of it in my diary. Except I spelled it wrong, and my sisters found it made an eejit out of me for writing “Henz benz on tost”…
In later years I always had a diary, and no matter how hard I tried to hide them, my sisters always found them and laughed at them. One year I asked Santa for a lockable diary, you know, the 5-year variety. And I got one!! But… so did my three sisters, and yep… all the keys fitted all the diaries. Cheers Santa!
I’m not ashamed to admit that I am now a woman with privacy issues. When I’m finished with my book, and I am ready to introduce it out into the world, then yes, abso-fecking-loutely I will let all-and-sundry read it, and I will welcome any and all feedback. Even the negative crap.
For now, though, I like to use my laptop. Save it using seventy-eight different encrypted passwords, and when (WHEN) I’m ready for critique, then I shall print it out onto ordinary, everyday A4 80gsm office copier paper. And every time I think of this I cry silently at all the notebooks that I haven’t written in.
On the flip-side…. think of all the trees I’ve saved.
Please feel free to offer your tuppence worth. Do you agree? Am I just a paranoid weirdo? I’d love to hear how you write, and how your house/flat mates measure up. Please leave a comment below 🙂