Lines composed to an office manager.
Yellow notebooks would be lovely, yes, To wile away an afternoon, or two, or four. But leave a day: some inquiries to address, Then let me work this week, no more.
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Lines composed to an office manager.
Yellow notebooks would be lovely, yes, To wile away an afternoon, or two, or four. But leave a day: some inquiries to address, Then let me work this week, no more.
Yellow Notebooks and SimpliCity
As a preteen I wrote a lot. And when I say a lot, I mean a lot.
I began a novel in middle school as both my attempt at being cool and at a catharsis. It grew page by page, written exclusively in yellow notebooks, longhand, and filled with mediocre preteen writing deemed gifted by teachers. I had a few friends fighting over newest inserts to keep up with the storyline, visit the characters in their favorite hangout (SimpliCity), and eventually they had grown attached to characters that they thought were based off of people in our lives. I was so known for this writing that even today, one of the 'popular' boys at school still asks me about it and if I still write in it. I always tell him yes because, for some reason, it seems like the only way I can connect myself to him and a lot of the other people I don't talk to anymore.
Sure, the story in the yellow notebooks never really had a definite ending, and yes, I still pick them up from time to time to read them or even add a little more to the storyline, but it was so much bigger than that. It seemed so much bigger than that. Not to be melodramatic, but it saved my life.
Whenever I needed to get away, it was there. SimpliCity was there. She was there. Sure, my writing was a little weak, but if there was one thing I did, it was character development. Of course, I tried to hide my alter ego by naming another character after myself as the best friend of the girl, but that wasn't as stealthy as people began to actually read. I became as invested in Jaymi Callahan as I had in myself.
When we write, really write, fictionally or otherwise, we put a piece of ourselves into it. A piece of our souls. A large part of mine went into Jaymi Callahan and all of the drama that happened in her life. Anything that I was afraid of, any drama that happened in my life, any joy - it was reflected in her. Whether that was in minute or major ways depended on if I deemed it fitting with the story line. But if someone read those yellow notebooks now, I could point out what events meant to me and my life and how Jaymi helped me solve them. She is a building block to the person I am today. She helped my figure myself out and I miss that. I miss when writing in a yellow notebook made me feel worth something. Made me feel like I was something. I was someone. She was someone. She is, and will always be, a part of me.
This post is dedicated to the fictional characters that help us work through our lives - they could be created, or merely enjoyed, by us.