I have long awaited the day I could start my gorgeous Scribbles That Matter notebook. Last month, I finally finished my old bullet journal and could begin filling in these lovely dotted pages.
I thought I’d share what I’ve done so far and compare this journal with my previous, Essentials notebook. This post is not sponsored, I just love my bullet journals!
What is a writer? When can you call yourself one? And how do you get the world to?
We live in a world of titles, where the difference of a few words can offend or flatter–fire you or get you a job–make enemies or friends. Finding out who you are is a big part of accepting yourself, and telling others where your strengths lie or what your job is. But often, there’s a line between professional and unprofessional. If you took a summer course in first aid, you cannot call yourself a trauma surgeon–it wouldn’t make sense. But turn to creativity titles like youtuber or photographer, and the lines are very blurred. In many cases, I don’t think they even exist.
I call myself a writer. An author, even. Am I being presumptuous? Do I really “understand” what I’m talking about? Why am I not a bestseller? If I’m a writer, shouldn’t I at least learn how to write regularly scheduled blog posts?
Well… let’s discuss. What does it really mean to be a writer? Continue reading
I have been coveting a new bullet journal since the spine on my current one starting breaking. I loved the idea of a new start–fresh pages and a whole new style of spreads, specifically those that look really time-consuming and difficult.
But, I’m only two-thirds through my current notebook and I didn’t feel I could just abandon it. To make up for the delayed chance to start a new bullet journal, I decided to start playing around with fancy spreads anyway. I figured it was like ‘practising’ for when I get a new notebook, whilst using up loads of pages. The bonus: they look amazing and weren’t that hard at all! They’re still not completely finished, and I’m not a good photographer, but I thought I would share:
Why don’t books have age restrictions?
Films do. Yes, you can buy that 18 and watch it at home in the secrecy of your room or let your kids watch it. But there is still a huge red number on the cover. Books occasionally have suggested reading ages, but for all intents and purposes, they have no age restrictions. Their content also has very little moderation.
A blind eye is turned on our “Teen novels”, classics, and especially self-published novels which often deal with disturbing, delicate topics like rape, violence against women and children, and minors having sex.
Is this okay? Continue reading
Early cover sketches
So it’s October, and I’m still slogging on, trying to keep up work on my writing. I thought I’d give an update on where I am at the moment and where I hope to go. This includes an entirely new novel, B Like You, which up until this spring, I was planning to keep hidden under my bed. But then I read it, and I liked it. I liked it a lot. So I decided to try and make it into something presentable. So here we go, my current projects: Continue reading
I need to figure out how to prioritize my life.
If you live a well-organized existence and feel as though you’re doing everything you’ve ever wanted to do, I applaud you–please tell me how you do it.
He’s a cat potato.
As for the rest of us, trying to choose between working on the novel that university has pushed under the bed, cleaning under your literal bed, or that tricky bit of revision, ultimately results in deciding just to eat breakfast. This lifestyle is not working for me, so let’s re-evaluate. Continue reading
The idea of keeping a journal or diary has been around since the invention of writing. Essentially, that’s why writing was invented–to catalogue information. Journaling just became a more private form of detail splurging; a place to connect with oneself on a deeper level, complain, and remember the good times.
The journal is exceptionally good at what it does. But it’s needy–it requires cultivation and it feeds off your time.
So the bullet journal (or BuJo) was invented.* Continue reading
Sonora Hills 