You know the one. You found it by surprise, and it was so cool you snatched it up and bought it before anyone could change your mind. You scurried away muttering ‘precious…precious…precious…’ Ok, you might not have actually said it out loud, but you were thinking it.
There it is, on the shelf, a willing companion just sitting idle. There’s no perfect use for this notebook. There’s no prose you’re going to write, no sketch you’re going to make that only it is good enough for. The only things it’s good enough for are those marks that will go unmade because you don’t use it.
But its one of a kind!
First, unless it was made by hand for you it probably isn’t one of a kind.
Second, it will still be one of a kind after you use it. More so, in fact.
No! You don’t understand! If I use it, I won’t have it. And there aren’t any more.
Yes, I get it. What did you buy it for? If you were on a deserted island, and down to your last candy bar, would you die of hunger with a little bit of candy bar left over, sitting there unused, just because there isn’t any more?
But if I wait, what I create will be so much better!
No, it won’t. Well, it might be, but the notebook won’t know the difference. The only way you’re getting better is if you fill another notebook anyway. So fill it.
But I’m in the middle of another notebook, and to leave that one half empty, well, it’s just not right!
Leave it and come back. Put a volume number on the spine so you can tell when you jumped from one book to another. Or don’t. It will add to the mystery for your descendents.
So use the notebook already. It’s calling to you. It wants to be used. So use it.
Ok, I will.