"She drinks pints of coffee and writes little observations and ideas for stories with her best fountain pen on the linen-white pages of expensive notebooks. Sometimes, when it's going badly, she wonders if what she believes to be love of the written word is really just a fetish for stationery.
The true writer, the born writer, will scribble words on scraps of litter, the back of bus tickets, on the wall of a cell. Emma is lost on anything less than 120gsm.
But at other times she finds herself writing happily for hours, as if the words had been there all along, content and alone in her one-bedroom flat."
Pg114, Chapter Six, One Day by David Nicholls.
My new favourite book. I have never fallen in love with a book so much before and then had my heart broken by it at the end. Cried for quite a while.
The above paragraph jumped out at me because even though it is about Emma it is too true a comparison to me. Minus the one bedroom flat which I honestly would totally love, the coffee addiction and replacing fountain with rollerball pens its a pretty spot on summary of me and my writing. I love writing, and eventually want to revert back to writing books but this shows how and why I'll always end up struggling to do that.
It took me to spend £10 on a pretty, hardback, floral notebook from Paperchase to uphold writing a diary fro over a week.
Must keep writing and importantly keep reading because nothing inspires me more than a good book.
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