Long ago, I carried a notebook of quotes that I liked. Eventually, it was an inside joke among friends to make it into “the quotebook,” which was fine with me, because it made everybody talk better.
I thought about that recently in a class I’m teaching. I assigned students to work in groups on a project. You either fly or you fail when you’re thrown into a small mix tackling a big challenge, and more often than not they fly. Team-building inadvertently happens. One group started collecting quotes from the class, turning some into stickers. I was happy to make the cut:
Anyway, I’ve revived a version of the quotebook. Summer break is coming, and a friend advised me that there’s no better time to start something new than right effing now, and I agree with that.
So I’ve shifted into collector mode. I’m flying through books and magazines. I’m planning roadtrips (I’ll drop itineraries if they turn out any good). As we have already established, I’m saying yes more often. I eavesdrop. Like, all the time. And I take notes. I’ve got notebooks stashed everywhere.
Here’s the thing: Note-taking seems to make stuff happen. At the very least, I think, it makes me more aware when interesting things are afoot. A few weeks ago, I met the tour manager for a band called Plush (please add one of their songs to a playlist—I told her you might). I went to a friend’s author talk and I asked her about a book manuscript submission, but she misheard and thought I’d written a book about submission, and you can bet that went into the hopper. There are other things, but I’m veering into territory that’s only interesting to me. Which is why I mostly just take notes when I get like this.
Will I use everything I’m jotting down in a future project? Probably not. Will I revisit these notes in the assisted living facility where I’m chain-smoking Marlboro Reds while drinking gin from a water bottle and watching the cardinal feeder outside my window? I do not know. But sometimes I wonder how time would work if I were always note-taking attentive. There are full years—busy years—where I can’t remember a single thing. Probably this is normal for anybody who is of an age. But let’s, for Substack’s sake, say that we all get a little blind to the miracles if we don’t … take note.
Want to join me for a few days of note taking? Could be quotes you overhear (trust me, once you start noticing, there’s plenty to work with). Could be something that makes you stop and look. What makes you wonder? What does that unusual person look like? What if?
If you’re looking for notebooks, I’ve known a few. Here’s a cute wallet notebook that I’ve tried. For $10 more you could get a little color and pattern. My friend Chrissy sells these lovelies, named for one of my favorite trees.
And if you take me up on this, let us know in the comments. Maybe upload a photo. I won’t analyze your handwriting. Okay, I’ll definitely analyze your handwriting. You know this mood I’m in.
Happy almost-weekend.
You once said, "You should have a notebook to match every outfit," and now I have a notebook problem—well, not a problem, but many of them are floating around my apartment, and one lives in every bag.
Two thoughts: 1. Have you ever done Morning Pages? I am doing them again as part of a yearlong group I am in and that's been really enlightening handwriting 3 pages in the morning again. Some of the members of my writing group also have regular journaling practices. Bill journals exclusively about food! 2. I bought a How to Make Your own Journal from a bunch of Crap You Have Around the House Plus a Darning Needle and String. That's not the actual title but I am going to try it for fun. The book was 50 cents at the thrift store.