There’s almost nothing I love the idea of more, though I’m just really bad at doing it, than using a journal. The combination of the pure aesthetic pleasure of a beautiful journal and the idea that one day my thoughts will fill a book makes me want to become like Samuel Pepys and chronicle everything that happens in my life, leaving behind an invaluable literary and historical record.
Too much pressure to put on myself? Well yes, but I can dream. And the thing is, I start out doing so well. I diligently write every day, I record each book I read for a while, and then…nothing. I just peter out. I don’t know why. I know when I was young I got notebooks a few times as gifts, and I just didn’t want to write in them because they were so beautiful and I didn’t want to ruin them, but that doesn’t apply as much now.
It probably has to do with the fact that I am very bad at holding myself to things if there isn’t an outside power hanging above my head. The longest I’ve gone writing in a notebook every day was one summer a few years ago when I went on a monthlong trip and my grandmother gave me a small, paperbound, notebook that I was able to fill up.
As of right now, I have three notebooks and journals that are in various stages of use and non-use.
My small, brown, leather-bound notebook lay unused for a long time because I couldn’t figure out what I wanted to use it for, and since it is so special I wanted what I wrote to reflect its value. I ended up first using it as a place to collect quotes I really liked, then as a dream journal of sorts. A few angsty poems grace its pages, as well as a rundown of my initial reactions to hearing the Hamilton soundtrack for the first time. I think of all these uses I like the quotes one best, because it provides a snapshot of the things I think are most important at one time.
This bigger black one is notable for the way its pages are set up. Its lines are made of the text of The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes in very small print, and I got it kind of on a whim this summer because, as someone who loves detective fiction, it was too cool to pass up! I decided to try and use it as a way to record what books I read, and that lasted for about five before I just forgot to keep doing it.
Lastly, on the trip to New York City I took with some friends over Spring Break, I got this “One Line a Day” notebook. It is set up so that there’s space to write only a couple (if that) of sentences per day for five years. I like it because it directs me as to its purpose, and I don’t feel pressured to fill it up right away. So far I’ve missed a few days, but have gotten back into the swing of it. To make sure I meet my goal of writing something for every day, I’m going to try and remind myself I don’t have to write a novel every day, just a little something.
Practice makes perfect, and if I want to have a little packet of memories, I’m going to try my best to write every day.
Image Credit: Katie Dembinski, 1