The Randomness of Life (In a Journal)

You would think, that since I am so focused on moments and little details, that the idea for my journal would have come easier.

But it took me three months.

This beautiful custom journal that my husband had made for me for my fortieth birthday has waited for words for three months.

I made my first entry today, finally.  It occurred to me that instead of rewriting my poems and stories (I already have books for those), and instead of using it as a journal (have that, too), I would use it to describe random moments.

And, since the moments are random, so to will be the order.

For my first entry, I opened to the middle of the book and began to write.


(I even got brave and wrote in pen.)


So I had a birthday recently, and my husband had a custom journal made for me.  It is the most beautiful journal I have ever owned.

Here it is (from

...With a pretty brass pendant that he picked out himself...
…With a pretty brass pendant that he picked out himself…
...My name engraved in the rich brown leather...
…My name engraved in the rich brown leather…
...With hand-stitched binding...
…With hand-stitched binding…
...And gorgeous antiqued pages.
…And gorgeous antiqued pages.

Where my Writing Lives


This is where my stories and poems live.

I create them on the computer, but I keep them in a notebook. In black ink, I hand-write each one, then place the journal on my shelf with all my other books.

This way, I can’t lose them with a computer breakdown or a lost USB. They are organized and (sort of) published. This way, I make them a part of my book collection and I give them value.

I love to write. And I love books.

This way, I get both.