It’s a sickness.

I admit it. I have a sickness.

I’ve tried not to indulge.

I’ve had severe talkings-to with myself.

Nothing seems to work.

You see, I’m addicted to notebooks. Every play I write, I start in long hand. Brain to fingers to ink to page is the right flow for me to work out ideas. I also carry a notebook most places I go because you never know when you’re going to see something of interest. I’m on the look out for things that strike me all the time, (SOAP BOX ON: there is NO such thing as writer inspiration! You have to look for it, work for it, use your brain, make it a habit, treat it like exercise. Sitting around waiting to be inspired is bull feathers. SOAPBOX OFF )

I’m on the look out for things that strike me all the time but if I don’t have a place to write them down, they become lost and un-useful.

Logically, I should only have one or two notebooks at a time. Something to work on new projects in. Something small to carry in my purse. It would make sense to keep everything confined to a small number of places and to not buy a new notebook until the old notebook was done. That would make total sense.

I currently have FIVE note books on the go with material in them and SEVEN empty notebooks waiting to be used. Do you know how long it will take to go through seven notebooks? Can you understand it’s impossible for me not to buy a new notebook before that time? Craig has actually caught me sighing in stores as I walk past the notebook section, filled with beautiful blank pages and I know in my heart of hearts there’s no point in getting another one.

Except when I do. Cause it’s a sickness and I can’t help it.

Here’s the latest one I bought. I couldn’t help it. There’s a company that takes old/used hard cover books and repurposes them as notebooks. See, it’s for a good cause. Reduce! Reuse! Recycle! I’m supposed to support things that are good causes.
I love that the cover is frayed and has a big ink splotch on the front. (there’s one on the back too. ) I love that it’s Ben Hur. I love that there are pages from the actual book scattered among the blank.

The book was a Christmas present in 1950 (but I wonder, who would give a book to two people? Why both Elise and George? Are theygood book sharers? Are they brother and sister? Are they married? Why did Mom and Dad write out the full name Elise and George Jensen? Are Mom and Dad cheap? Does Mom and Dad not like one of the pair? I could go on)

You see? I needed this notebook. Didn’t I? I suppose I’ll get to it sometime in 2020….

About the author

Lindsay Price


  • If it helps….I totally get you…I too have an obsession with notebooks and planners. I also have issues with buying and hoarding thank you/note cards.

  • That is interesting. I thought I was the only one who still used the old fashion ink and paper technique :) . It is nice to know you have all that potential to fill up!