Paper Addiction and You
(and by you I mean me)
The quest for the right notebook is, for a certain breed of people, a never-ending and burdensome concern. One’s office or home can become overstuffed with stationary of varying shapes and sizes, each with the requisite pen tests and scribbles—or, for the weak of heart, pristine and squirreled away waiting for something ‘good enough’ to justify marring some lovely journal.
I’ve discussed this with quite a few writer peers, and it seems I’m not alone in a particular manic zeal for stationery. It’s built atop a sedimentary but fractured foundation, layers and layers of minute motivations left unsteady by the wears and tears of heavy traffic. One of the most common motivations—and one from which I suffer acutely—is the idea that a new notebook will somehow inspire a great surge of creativity for a new project, as if a new focal point location for a new story, batch of poems, or chapter will ensure its completion.
I find that this has a damning effect in the long term; stuffed in a desk drawer are a dozen notebooks with inspired opening lines of unfinished masterpieces. One has an aversion to writing a fresh idea on the next page for fear of abbreviating the work preceding it.
I long to be the sort of writer or artist who carries with them one lone tome as the reliquary for all their inspired thoughts. My friend Bill, a bookbinder, would break his handcrafted sketchbook out at the bar and diagram a minor project, slapdash, in the middle of his much more important thoughts and considerations—that lone page of disposable content now sandwiched in the larger record of his thinking.
Instead, I’ve become something of a packrat of pages, carting a bundle of books from room to room, stuffing the front pouch of my backpack for a trip to the coffee shop. I’m slowly honing the system, a specialized book for different purposes. A reading journal, a (neglected) personal journal. A notebook each for weekly and monthly deadlines and to-dos. I’ve got a thick book in which I log all the comics I’ve read, a sort of reading journal of numbers and stats.
I’ve recently been taken with squared/grid pages. There’s nothing like ticking a box after completing a task, and I also find it oddly satisfying to space out my letters, fitting my sloppy block capitals in regimented rows. Perhaps it gives me the illusion of a uniformity I’m searching for in my creative output; by keeping my writing relatively neat I can pretend that so, too, are my thoughts.
I recently helped M. shop for a notebook to better help her keep track of her day-to-day thoughts and tasks and brought several options to the proverbial table; we decided to try out Leuchtturm1917 Jottbook, study little blocks of pages that aren’t too imposing to be used disposably. They come in packs of two, and in different sizes; we bought four, altogether, knowing that whatever she didn’t use I (problematically) would.
Yesterday I got itchy waiting for them to arrive (they were meant to arrive today, but the website insists that the order is only pending), and went to the local chain bookstore to browse options; there were very few that fit my criteria in terms of size and squared format, but I still walked away with a few I shouldn’t have bought.
For the purpose of to-dos, I decided to pick up a three-pack of the lauded Field Notes. Small enough for M.’s purse, and for me to tuck into the middle of my comic journal (after filling it with weekly reading lists). I also found these very tempting, slim Kokuyo Campus notebooks that, at four bucks a pop, called out to that ‘new project’ part of my brain. So now I’ve got a couple of those to use irresponsibly.
Notebooks I shuttle around with me:
For my week-to-week and month-to-month planning, I’ve found that the Mochi MYO A5s are fantastic (especially if you’ve got a nice cover to stuff them in). They’re slim and undated so that you don’t waste past months/dates.
For my personal and reading journals, I’ve replaced the place previously held by Moleskine with softcover Leuchtturm1917’s of whichever size is cheapest at the time.  I usually put a silly sticker on them for my own enjoyment.
My comic journal is Markings Log Journal I impulsively bought at a drugstore. It’s sturdy-ish, cheap, and perfect for the complete gibberish for which I use it.
For letter writing (which I’ve recently taken up and languished in), I love this little Ampad Gold Fibre writing pad. The pages are smooth, small, and nicely foldable; they area also cheap as hell.
Hopefully some of those might speak to any fellow notebook addicts; hopefully they’ve spoken to you.
Anyway, here are my reviews and round-up for the week:
I looked at an Epic Collection of one of the all-time favorite comics of my childhood, Silver Surfer (1987), which features the turning point in the book’s quality from ‘pretty okay’ to ‘impactful’. I also looked at the 20th Anniversary Marvel Knights story, Make the World Go Away, and despite one of my favorite current writers (Tini, you’re an inspiration as both a writer and a fashion icon)  being involved, I was pretty lukewarm on the whole thing.
Here's an attempt at that quick-hit review graphic I’m toying with:
I can relate!