Scribble-hoarding, or Writing on the Move -- Garbo
I've been sharing my thoughts with the world since 1974 and when I think of writers, I still think of people sitting at desks surfaceed with blotters and inkwells, or sitting at rustic work tables looking out the window at the sea, or sitting at a sidewalk cafe table, observing humankind as the human parade passes by.
In fact, I myself do very little sitting while writing. Lacking both inherited wealth and worldwide fame, I find myself in the vast majority of authors who also have to Do Things. And doing things involves bodily movement. So I write on the move.
I also read on the move, via audiobooks. These recorded books cause me to think on the move, and of course ideas must be noted before they are forgotten in that fleeting moment between adding tamari to the grocery list and emailing that guy to determine the whereabouts of the piddly check he promised me some time ago. My most glorious and expansive thoughts are usually preserved in the form of scribbles.
As a younger person, I longed for the dignity of specialized writing tools. I'd begin with several shades of tinted paper, each signaling a specific draft of a manuscript. I wanted a walnut desk. Of course I'd need an ergonomic chair, something that adjusted to the perfect height and took the strain off the weary joints of my frenzied fingers. And in my fingers would be one of many fancy pens brought into my household by mail order.
I think I believed that if I had better stuff, I'd have more ability. But if I'd had such a desk, I'd never have sat at it. In reality, I write ideas for stories, changes of character name, specific models of automobile or vintage kitchen blenders, calendar dates, phrases, sentences, dialogue exchanges, and entire paragraphs on the back of the water & sewer bill. I do usually have a couple of yellow legal pads sitting here and there but sometimes I need to get the Writing Moment on paper instantly, before it vaporizes, and I speed-scribble my words on anything defaceable.
And this of course leads to piles of receipts and half-pages of notebook paper and insurance notices with important scribbles on them. Piles and piles. I am a scribble-hoarder.
Currently, I'm working on a better system of note-taking as the current one is inefficient. Also, there is no room for stacked boxes of old electric bills and insurance notices. I live in a small house.
I don't want to be a crazy hoarder, of course, but sometimes the best idea I've had in three months is on the back of the friendly form letter that came when I ordered the Jiffy Mix recipe booklet. Nothing can go into the recycling bin till it's been checked for vital scribbles. As you can imagine, this leads to paper clutter, what someone I once knew diagnosed as "Clogged-Drain Syndrome." Items, including pieces of paper, come into a household and then they don't leave.
Downward Trend: I keep using the cardboard backing of yellow legal pads to continue my thoughts when I run out of paper. This is an issue, especially if I used the inner side of the pad backer, as I am likely to overlook what I've written while searching for it. The average search lasts a week and a half.
Upward Trend: I did manage to squeeze a small bookshelf into my office to hold project notebooks. The top shelf of that unit holds a steady supply of upcycled paper on which to write. I no longer need to make notes on the statement for the gasoline charge card. On my ready-to-use stack, I have the backs of things like instructions for assembling furniture, and press releases, sheets that came out wrong from the computer printer, and old sheet music.
It's a start. And I hope an end. To scribble-hoarding.
In fact, I myself do very little sitting while writing. Lacking both inherited wealth and worldwide fame, I find myself in the vast majority of authors who also have to Do Things. And doing things involves bodily movement. So I write on the move.
I also read on the move, via audiobooks. These recorded books cause me to think on the move, and of course ideas must be noted before they are forgotten in that fleeting moment between adding tamari to the grocery list and emailing that guy to determine the whereabouts of the piddly check he promised me some time ago. My most glorious and expansive thoughts are usually preserved in the form of scribbles.
As a younger person, I longed for the dignity of specialized writing tools. I'd begin with several shades of tinted paper, each signaling a specific draft of a manuscript. I wanted a walnut desk. Of course I'd need an ergonomic chair, something that adjusted to the perfect height and took the strain off the weary joints of my frenzied fingers. And in my fingers would be one of many fancy pens brought into my household by mail order.
I think I believed that if I had better stuff, I'd have more ability. But if I'd had such a desk, I'd never have sat at it. In reality, I write ideas for stories, changes of character name, specific models of automobile or vintage kitchen blenders, calendar dates, phrases, sentences, dialogue exchanges, and entire paragraphs on the back of the water & sewer bill. I do usually have a couple of yellow legal pads sitting here and there but sometimes I need to get the Writing Moment on paper instantly, before it vaporizes, and I speed-scribble my words on anything defaceable.
And this of course leads to piles of receipts and half-pages of notebook paper and insurance notices with important scribbles on them. Piles and piles. I am a scribble-hoarder.
Currently, I'm working on a better system of note-taking as the current one is inefficient. Also, there is no room for stacked boxes of old electric bills and insurance notices. I live in a small house.
I don't want to be a crazy hoarder, of course, but sometimes the best idea I've had in three months is on the back of the friendly form letter that came when I ordered the Jiffy Mix recipe booklet. Nothing can go into the recycling bin till it's been checked for vital scribbles. As you can imagine, this leads to paper clutter, what someone I once knew diagnosed as "Clogged-Drain Syndrome." Items, including pieces of paper, come into a household and then they don't leave.
***
Downward Trend: I keep using the cardboard backing of yellow legal pads to continue my thoughts when I run out of paper. This is an issue, especially if I used the inner side of the pad backer, as I am likely to overlook what I've written while searching for it. The average search lasts a week and a half.
Upward Trend: I did manage to squeeze a small bookshelf into my office to hold project notebooks. The top shelf of that unit holds a steady supply of upcycled paper on which to write. I no longer need to make notes on the statement for the gasoline charge card. On my ready-to-use stack, I have the backs of things like instructions for assembling furniture, and press releases, sheets that came out wrong from the computer printer, and old sheet music.
It's a start. And I hope an end. To scribble-hoarding.
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| Garbo |
In my paid job, I don't know what I did before the advent of post-its...
ReplyDeleteThis reminds me in a way of Andrea Levy's quote: "I think a lot & write very little..."
(Although I know you write a lot too...)
Delete