The Only Place

I have a weakness. Well, I have many. But I have one particular weakness for notebooks. Pretty, expensive notebooks. Day to day I can't pass a Paperchase without going inside and buying one. One of my favourite places in London is Liberties stationery section . I avoid going anywhere posher than that as I literally cannot resist temptation.

I love the texture of beautifully bound notebooks, the smell of fresh pages, the excitement of starting a clean book.

I use them for my poetry, for my notes, for my to-do lists, for my novel, for presents. I don't really need an excuse to buy another. My desk is crammed with notebooks filled with handwriting that in many cases I can no longer read, but the very act of getting something out and down in writing was so necessary, so cathartic at that time.

But, interestingly, I have never used them to write about my submission and the adventures I talk about in this blog. I am not sure if it's the concern that it might be read and traced back to me, or that I just need the cyberspace reality to get the juices flowing.

No, despite my lovely notebooks, this is the only place I have for these thoughts.