Friday, June 17, 2011

I am a paperholic

Hello.  My name is Cheryl, and I’m a paperholic.  It’s been three days since I’ve torn anything out of a magazine.
Yes, I’ll admit it.  I am a paper whore.  I never realized the extent of my addiction until recently.  Our condo is up for sale, which means another move.  Eventual and looming retirement, probably in another state, has emphasized the need to pare down.  Way down.
Realistically, I’m never going to make a quilt from the dozens of patterns I’ve collected.  I’m never going to write enough books to justify the hundreds of pictures of men, women and couples I’ve stashed away to use as character models.  Ditto for odds and ends that might be used for scrapbooking or in a book of wonder.  And let’s not start on the recipes.  I mean, really?
My addiction is not limited to things torn out of magazines and newspapers.  I have notebooks.  Lots and lots of notebooks.  Legal pads, both yellow and white.  Steno pads.  Big, small, irregular, lined, unlined, if it’s made of paper and bound together, I have it.  Some of them are blank, but most have ideas scribbled on them.  I have notes from conferences I attended in 2004.  I have multiple copies of the Hero’s Journey, GMC, character interviews, research printed off the internet, writing exercises and tips. 
I am a glutton for paper.  I love the texture and smell, the hope of a blank page.  I love finding the germ of an idea that I’ve forgotten.  I love to reread the early versions of stories and marvel at how they progressed.  I love everything to do with paper.
I’ve purged a lot.  At first, the pain was like taking your elderly pet to the vet to be put down.  It doesn’t hurt as much now.  I can be quite ruthless at times, which is good, because there’s more to be gone through.
What didn’t hurt?  All the rejection letters I’ve collected in my twelve years of writing.  Why did I keep them?  They’re bad karma, so out they went.  I should have had a bonfire. 
What surprised me?  Some of those letters were requests for partial and full manuscripts.  They validated my writing, and too bad for the editor or agent who didn’t follow through on the opportunity.
I’m happy to say my collection of paper is more manageable.  It will be easier to move it across town or across the country.
As for my books. . .
That’s another blog.       

1 comment:

Terri said...

I sell paper and I am really glad there is another paperholic out there. I too love a blank page and the smell of fresh paper. Fun post!