The Notebook Did It (ms)
When Flannery and I began what I think of as The Blog Project our goals were lofty: a thousand words a week each so that at the end of one year we would have amassed roughly 104,000 words. This would allow us to create a decent size book even with all the verbosity culled from it. We would publish this tome and immediately become the toasts of the literary world with publishers clamoring for our next effort, editors fighting to work with us and the public entranced by our every word at seminars, speeches and book signings. Alas, Dear Reader, it is not to be. We have failed in our efforts, faltered in our steps, plunged from the pinnacle of promise to the depths of disappointment.
Now, Flannery is going to blame this on me because that’s the way he is. It’s my fault there aren’t enough words to go around, my fault the deadlines weren’t met, my fault the creative juices have ceased to flow and are instead dammed up behind a solid wall of incompetence and laziness (his term). My fault. Alway my fault. I’ll tell you where the fault lies — no notebooks.
Of course you scoff at that and who would not. For want of a horse a kingdom was lost, maybe, but for want of a notebook all those blogs were lost? How can that be? Well, I shall explain.
The notebooks I use are little guys that I think might fit inside a cigarette box for they slide quite nicely into my shirt pocket. The stub of a pencil I use to write in them goes in my pants pocket and I’m all set to go off searching for ideas to fill my needs. The main value is my system is less conspicuous than many others used by very talented and far better reporters. In my view it’s much better than tapping something into a telephone or an iPad and far less intimidating than the dreaded Reporters Notebook, the tablet that when brought out says quite unequivocally, “Okay, I’m quoting you now so you better not mess up your story.” Trouble is my brand of notebooks are hard to find.
I first discovered them at a bookstore Flannery and I frequented for high level discussions, a bookstore that is now gone. Before I could buy up a good supply the doors closed and I was left empty handed. No more notes could I take, no more examples of infinite wisdom could I store, no more quotes like, “I’m finer than frog hair” could I write down for later use. My despair was deep.
Fortunately I have come across a new supplier and this very day a new supply arrived by mail along with the promise of a good stock should I run out. Ah, the joy of the season has been added to immensely.
So now I shall again take up my task and renew my efforts to post a thousand words a week for I am again armed with the device that allows me to record what I wish and recall it later when it is time to face the blank screen of my laptop.
In short, let the good times roll.
–Mike Stevens
Riding Both Rails 