The Terror of the Blank Journal

Put that pen to paper and make a beautiful mess of it.

We sell about a hundred different journals at the bookshop. Almost daily, a customer says, “This notebook is too beautiful to write in!” or, “I already have so many of these at home that I haven’t used yet.”

A blank book is terrifying. It represents all of the pressure of what you could write, what you should write. It’s even more scary when the book has a beautiful cover, your favorite sort of paper—you feel like what you write must be worthy of that journal.

Please let me tell you: your writing is worthy of that journal.

What you do write is so much more important than what you could write—it is tangible, accessible, something you can work with, your thoughts put down onto paper. It is movement toward a finished project, ideas you are fleshing out, a to-do list, the first of many drafts. What you don’t write down stays trapped inside of you. That feeling of paralysis that comes when you want to create something “great” will stop you from creating anything at all—if you let it.

These journals were created to be used. They are tools—it’s okay if they get worn, stained, blemished. Doesn’t a little wear and tear look better than collected dust? They were never meant to stay in pristine condition. If a journal isn’t being written in, it isn’t serving its purpose, and what a disservice that is! 

Put that pen to paper and make a beautiful mess of it. You might be surprised by what comes next.