Raven’s Ramblings and random Thursday thoughts… On Notebooks.
I love notebooks. The fact that due to fibro and my propensity for staving my fingers on a regular basis, my writing looks a bit like a spider on speed has dipped his legs in a pot of ink and decorated the page with random shapes is neither here nor there.
I still love notebooks, and have them stashed in ever handbag, in my car, hubby’s car and every room of the house. My favourite at the moment, was given to me by my daughter. Bright pink, buttery soft and with the words ‘The Story of my Life’ etched on it in gold.
This one goes everywhere.
Now before you wonder why I’m harping on about notebooks and what’s the relevance to ‘authoring’ I’ll tell you. (I’m nice like that J)
How often does an idea, or a phrase strike you when you’re not at your laptop? For me it’s often. Like the ides for my latest book came when I was peeling the spuds. Spuds dropped, kitchen notebook picked up, and bullet points jotted down. Even better I wrote in capitals and yee haa managed to read it all back. When we’re out, if I see something that I could put in a book, or want to ask questions about? You’ve got it. It gets jotted it down in a notebook so I don’t forget. Because come hell or high water, I would have no idea what it was I wanted to remember.
I don’t even need to be away from my laptop. I happened to say to someone somewhere in a net conversation, what I thought today’s post was going to be about.
Yep, who didn’t write it down somewhere? So can I remember what it was? Not at all. Now if only I’d made a note of it.
I have a notebook next to my laptop. Actually, I lie. I have two. My life of course and another big A4 one.
One tends to have lists of characters names I’ve used, what to do when, things to remember like holiday needs, what I need to buy for dinner and where’s the kindle charger.
The other is more mobile if you like, and that has everything in. I use it alongside my laptop to remind me of my characters eye colour, or what a house looks like.
Plus when I’m on holiday, I write a diary. Not detailed but enough to remind me of people and places. That’s getting harder to read I must admit. It hurts to write. Typing is a lot easier.
But what I’m trying to say is I’d be lost without my notebooks. I go back over my old ones. Holiday ‘diaries’, notes for the first book I wrote, the heady excitement of when a book crept up to the giddy heights of Amazon best seller, and I kept noting down its place in the charts.
Most of all though, these books scattered everywhere are invaluable as my aid memoire.
After all you never know where an idea might strike.
Oh I should add I love pens as well, and pencils so each notebook has a couple of them attached somehow. Now if only I can remember in which notebook I wrote down my idea about a pet pig and…
Happy reading, (and writing)
Love Raven x