This weekend has been spent clearing out my loft. As we battled against ten years worth of forgotten clutter I came across a few of my old writer notebooks.
As I opened them up I did wonder whether they would make me cringe. But they did quite the opposite.
Some of my old stories were born inside these notebooks and it was tear inducing to see the first few scribbles of a project appear on a page and then start to grow.
I let out a few creative sighs as I saw familiar characters emerge, plots take shape and I noted how a couple of characters and story ideas never made it out of the notebook.
I knew I had to write a post on the special bond between writers and their notebooks.
The magic for a writer first occurs in their notebook.
The first scribble of an idea sparks…
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