Disembowelling Notebooks

I have a lot of notebooks. Many, but nowhere near all, are Moleskines. Some bought by myself, often when I'm out and about and want to write or draw and realise I have nothing with me to do it (it also follows that I have a lot of pens and pencils, despite 2 lots posted out to Pens4Kids in the last year). Others, especially the more decorative ones, are presents.

I do love a new notebook – the empty pages full of promise. New pens and pencils too - there's still a vestige of the irrational feeling Catherine Storr mentions in Marianne Dreams (one of the most truly scary children’s books I read, and later made into an even scarier film), that if I can find the right pencil I will magically be able to draw better. Like most things though the trick to good drawing is practice. 

Moleskines are not particularly good for decent drawing. The paper is thin and they don’t naturally lie flat. However they make up for a lot by attractive colours and tie ins (Minions, Alice in Wonderland, The Beatles) and the fact you can hold them open in one hand and draw with the other. They’re also ubiquitous.

Some of the ones bought for me as presents are so nice that I almost feel I should keep them for a special project. But only Almost, because I know from experience that way they will never be used.

Then there are what I would loosely describe as the A4 grouping. These have mostly come in through work clear outs. A4 pads and folders used to be a vital part of office furniture - the way information was recorded, moved, filed - along with a whole ecosystem of hole punches and dividers and manilla envelopes, hanging file cabinets and alphabetisation.

Now, with the rise of the computer, all this has gone and offices have had major refurbishments, taking out shelving and in trays and desk drawers and with them copious amounts of stationery there was simply no space for. In the last two refurbs I've experienced staff were encouraged to take this stuff, or bin it.

Hence:

I really like these blue notebooks - they were ideal for work. They’re a little bit Back to School, but not too much (and the best bit of school was new stationery anyway), and you can personalise them by doodling on the cover so you know which is yours. The difficulty in using them up at home is that they’re really too floppy without a desk or table to lean on, and most of my writing at work – even the note-taking while discussions are happening – is done on computer now (the covid lockdowns accelerated this as meetings are so often remote, but it was going that way anyway).

What is good about the A4 group is it is impossible to feel precious about using them or eviscerating them, tearing out pages I’ve typed up, cutting out drawings I think are quite good and discarding the rest in the recycling bin. Despite the lack of portability they will eventually be worked through.

Then there’s tiny and twee. In theory these ought to be used up quickly as there's so little space to write – just enough for shopping lists, quotes, or book titles for things I probably won’t write. However it's precisely because they are so small that I tend to pass them over for something pocket sized like a Moleskine, which will also fit in my handbag, and has room for anything extra I want to write down.

A fourth category are the art pads. Some of these were bought on holidays when I was carrying watercolour paints but had no watercolour paper (notebooks vary, but by and large notepads for writing do not like watercolour - too much water makes the pages crinkle). Others were just shiny impulse buys in art shops. Seawhite sit somewhere between the art pad and notebook, and I particularly like my travel journal, which alternates lined and plain pages. I have no idea if they still do it. My doodle book – where I stick the pictures I’m quite happy with – is a Valgra art book with ring binding, and is bearing up well considering the amount I’ve stuck in it.

I also have a selection of very pretty A5 and exercise books – a few of which were bought in Italy and the most recent ones at an art fair just before Christmas. These have a nice balance of portability and beauty without being so expensive and lovely I don’t want to use them, and most have been used at least a few times. That said they’re so pretty I don’t always want to pull them to pieces and throw the bits I don’t need out.

Last comes the miscellaneous category, which includes the Muji notebook I wrote this post in originally. As you can see from the picture below it’s one of those you can scribble on and in and again not so fancy that I mind ripping pages out when done with them. the paper is also thick enough to take fountain pen with no bleeding through to intrude on the other side. It lies flat nicely too.

Also in the miscellaneous category are these, which I’ve had years and not touched, and it’s only now I’ve written and typed up this whole long spiel that I've realised why: they aren’t really portable, don’t lie flat, and have that ‘too nice for everyday’ vibe going on.

Anyway this longwinded post is partly a reminder to myself not to buy any more notebooks, and to take one with me every time I go out so the ones I have get used. I’m actually committed to discarding 365 more things than I acquire this year (not including things like groceries or essential toiletries), but that’s probably a subject for another post.