notebooks
I like legal pads. I have a habit of starting a list or a string of thoughts or a brainstorming on a legal pad, and using up 1-5 pp. of it, and then putting it aside. Because the next time I want to make a list (the Big List of Everything I Have to Do, for instance) I want a new surface. I don't like rolling the pages back to get at a new one. Hence, the pile of legal pads above, each of which had a few pages used, but which are now fresh (more or less) and ready to be used again.All this makes me feel as if I'm getting organized, but it may be part of a vast illusion that I succumb to time and again.
Meanwhile, I have revised a story and sent it out--"Bring Sheaves of Corn and Poppies," which is a pretty pretentious title, but I was stuck. I sent it to the Missouri Review, which accepts online submissions. They charge you a fee ($3, I think) but it's well worth it, if you consider postage and the general annoyance of dealing with printing a copy and postage and going to the post office where Len the guy behind the counter looks at you knowingly (why doesn't this woman give up already?).
posted by mary grimm at 4:09 PM
6 Comments:
I'm exactly the same about notebooks. I always want to start a fresh one for a new thought or a new project and so have many barely used ones stacked up around my office. Unfortunately I have a penchant for hardbound notebooks, so it's difficult to resurrect them as you have your legal pads...
I hope that the Missouri Review takes a shine to your story!
Hey, I just noticed that Willow Springs also takes electronic fiction submissions.
Kate--I used to use spiral-bound notebooks, and I think I stopped because of the resurrection problem--all those raggedy bits of paper if you tore out pages.
Erie--I'm adding it to my list.
Hey, that Len at the post office better not give you any attitude! He has nothing to smirk about.
Hey, I just did the same thing at the conservation lab today, and I'm not even a writer, ending up with a fan of tattered and partially used notepads sticking out from the back of my bookshelf.
There's something about the irregular fringe of paper tatters that's left along the binding edge, after a ripping-away purge, that renders the pad aesthetically useless, but then it's still good, virginal paper (sort-of), blue lines on white, maybe useable (not really: I counted 8 pads).
Come to think of it, I have a stack of them upstairs at home, too. Maybe a 12-Step program in the works? Oh, and the Julie moniker? I made a mistake once, and don't know how to undo it.
Kris--I probably maligned Len--he's really a sweet old guy who is probably just thinking abt when his break is.
Jane--they are aesthetically useless--but still I get a feeling of virtue in using them up.
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