I have several note books on the go at any one time, which is not necessarily a good thing. There's a sort of panicky moment when I wonder which one should get the Great Thought, or the note about buying eggs. There's a small one in my bag, which currently has morphed into a slightly big one because my daughter gave it to me, and it has a fancy cover. Then a medium sized moleskin one in my briefcase, which is quite serious looking and I like to get it out for my supervisions in case it makes me look intellectual.
And then a massive, ring bindery one that lives on or near my desk, and is meant to be the repository of ideas for the New Novel. (Not much going on in that one at the moment due to the fact I am still wrestling my thesis to the ground, and it's proving a rather tricksy little blighter.)
But are notebooks really necessary? Is writing in your little book the only way of communing with your undeveloped ideas? Bruce Chatwin made quite the fetish out of it, but other writers seem to get on fine with lap tops or the backs of envelopes. One friend of mind carries a Dictaphone round with her, and of course fashionable people use their iPhones.
I still like the scribbling thing, myself. Keyboards are quick and efficient, but there is something very natural and simple about sitting there, thinking, pen in hand. Keyboards drive you on, eyes gripped by the electric emptiness.
And of course a notebook is also a way of breaking away from that white screen, and thank God for that. And notes are tactile, you can do little drawings, or underlinings, or scribble out the rubbish with a great flourish. The delete button isn't half so satisfying.
