Notebooks

(for the Autobiography Project)

My finished journals are in a fireproof box. The first stack is from when I was eleven. They’re little ring-bound memo books with shiny pink or purple covers, and I tried to fill each quickly so I could move on to the next. I kept each current notebook in a plastic pouch with my favorite kind of pen (pink, fine tip).

In high school, I wrote in larger book-bound journals. My grandmother gave me the first, which has a quilt-pattern cover and lined pastel pages. After I filled it I bought two others. Same brand, different quilts. When I couldn’t find any more of these, I used whatever my mom bought. Apples, kittens, a gold Egyptian print. These journals have love letters tucked in the front covers, along with swim meet programs and sleepover invitations.

In college, I wrote in regular 8½ by 11 notebooks so I could easily conceal them in class. I got in the habit of picking covers that reflected pop culture of the time. Pokémon. Spider-man. Spongebob.

My travel notebook for my after-college trip to Europe is a spiral-bound hardcover. It has a plastic cover that zips around it. Stickers from Switzerland, Berlin, Dublin, and Rome decorate the covers. I described all my meals in the back.

Now I always have at least three notebooks going. I have a large one for home. The pocket-sized notepad goes with me almost everywhere. I keep it in a zippered pencil case with my favorite kind of pen (black, gel). Just in case I’m somewhere without my backpack, I have an even smaller notebook in my wallet, along with a telescoping pen.

Notebook-writing is like exercise for me, a practiced movement I can relax into. I feel uneasy without a notebook around. I am a constant writer.

autobiographyproject.com