I have a new notebook. My sister got it for me for Christmas. Actually, she got me three new notebooks. I want to use this one, but I feel kind of guilty. I have lots of other notebooks, three quarters full and I should use them first. Of course, I would have to figure out where they are and we’re in the middle of a renovation in a small space that requires moving all the things at least once a week. Notebooks take advantage of this state of things - like socks take advantage of the dryer cycle - by disappearing into wormholes.
So, I could talk myself into using the new notebook. On the other hand, it’s so clean. Look at the empty pages. As soon as I make the first mark, some of the possibility disappears.
Sigh. Blank notebooks represent the best and worst of writing.
On one hand, the clean white pages contain endless possibilities, whole worlds waiting to be explored. On the other, every word that is written is every other word that isn’t. To say one thing is to leave a million other things that might unsaid. The space/time continuum is far too thin where we are.
But I guess if you never write anything in the notebook, then nothing will ever get said and I guess something is better than nothing. Or at least it might be.
Julie Carpenter is the creator of the Sacred Chickens website. She is dedicated to telling stories and making sure that indie writers and publishers have a way to be heard. She uses narrative, her own and others’, to help interpret the world. She has a Master of Professional Writing from the University of Memphis, with an emphasis in Composition Theory. She wants to bend reality one story at a time. Julie’s work has appeared in Fiction on the Web and will be included The New Guard. She is currently working on a novel.