When I was a teenager, I would write in my journal (a plain old spiral notebook) every day. I'd write about everything; what I'd dreamt through the night, what happened that day, what I was feeling, family drama that seemed to be on an ever revolving loop. It was so easy then.
Now as an adult, my taste in journals has changed. You know the semi-fancy journals that come blinged (you will never see me use that word again, I promise) out with journal type accessories? Yep, those are my favorites. The bookmark ribbon hot glued to the internal spine of the journal is a must-have for me. That same bookmark ribbon probably jacks the price up another $2 at Borders when I could probably do it myself for .02¢ and 47 seconds of my time, but hey, it's journal bling ----> It's close to "blinged" but not the same. I swear I'll never use either again.
Another journal accessory that really bakes my cookie? Magnetic flap thingys. Oh yeah, I'm all about the magnetic flap thingy. I once bought three black journals from Borders because they were on clearance for only $3 each and they had both the magnetic flap thingy and a bookmark ribbon. It didn't matter that they were hideously ugly, even though they were all black. They had miniature airplanes and other random modes of transportation on them. But they all had journal blin--- er, accessories. So I guess that makes me a journal snob? My current journal is green with white swirls. It has a green ribbon bookmark that I had to reattach with a hot glue gun because I accidentally yanked it out. It doesn't have a super special magnetic flap thingy, but Joe picked it up for me so I can't complain. Obviously he isn't aware of my journal snobbery.
Also, I guess this makes me a pen snob too because I only write with my Sharpie pen. I once bought the pack that came with red, black, blue and green pens. I found that I didn't much care for the red or black pens. I have a severe, almost obsessive dislike of black ink. It totally freaks me out and I can't really say why. But I love the blue and green. Sharpie figures if you want the green pens you have to buy them in the multi-color pack, but if you're a fan of blue ink, you can buy a whole package of blue Sharpie pens; which is what I do.
But anyways, the point I was getting at is that it isn't as easy to fill the pages nowadays as it was when I was a teenager. That urge to document every single thought, action, memory, feeling of the day no longer makes me feel guilty if I skip a day or a month. Instead, I find my journals more filled with notes and chapter outlines for stories I'm working on. Sure, there are the occasional rants and raves about what has happened that particular day, but more often than not, my journal has very little "real" journaling in it.
I'm not really sure how I feel about that. I mean, on one hand, I never began writing in the journal with the thought that one day when I'm old and feeble someone will pick them up and read through my life story to find humor or sadness or some kind of life lesson to reflect in their own struggles so it shouldn't be that big of a deal what is in my journal.
On the other hand, I feel perhaps this is a laziness I should be afraid of. Perhaps avoiding the journal with any real emotion on a regular basis is potentially hazardous to my fiction writing. After all, if I can't muster through a brief summation of the day in my journal now, how will I ever continue writing novels for the next fifty years?
Eh, here is my current journal.
(Above) Notice the green cover with decorative white swirls and the way the camera flash glistens on the cover. Also glaringly noticeable is the absence of the beloved magnetic flap thingy.
(Below) Notice the matching green ribbon bookmark and excellent penmanship in Sharpie Blue.
Most Sincerely,
The Journal/Pen Snob
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