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My mom and I went back to our favorite little independent bookshop a few days ago. I decided to pick up The Hunger Games for my last week in town and we were both keen on getting back to the place. I’ve been gone and it’s far away now that my mom’s moved, so it’d been a long time since either of us had been there.
It felt open and emptier. None of the staff we knew were there. I found my book quickly enough, but when I went to the TV section there was nothing about writing. There was a Parks and Recreation book that I gloured at, and then I stalked off to check out the rest of the place. There were the political books which used to captivate me. There were the reference and self help books (I always delight in walking past AP and SAT prep guides). There were a few books that looked intriguing but I knew I wouldn’t have time for them soon enough. There was the kids section, delightful as always. And then there were the Moleskines.
My mom had a few gift cards and was keen on supporting the store beyond that, so she was raring to get me something besides my book. I love running my fingers over those slim spines, imagining what profound additions I might make to the center of those little leather books. She bought me one: small, black leather, lined. I used to have boxes and boxes of hardly filled notebooks - the possibilities always attracted me to them. But with my laptop I’ve found little use for them anymore. A moleskine, however, I am still unable to resist.
My mom realized that this was a rather foolish purchase once we were back in the car. ”Really Laura, what are you going to use that for?” she asked.
To be honest, I always find Moleskines hard to use because nothing I write in them ever feels worthy enough to sit between those leather-bound fronts. But this one I planned on keeping in my bag and in the key bowl. I planned on taking it with me. Whenever a good joke comes up or possible story line pops into my head, I’d write it down. Sure I still have my phone to put up quotes and stories, but a moleskine means a record of what I want to do with my writing, possibly for television.
But I didn’t say any of this. I replied, “it’s not a matter of what I’ll use it for, but when.”
