Every writer has one. It may take the form of yellow foolscap, a collection of strewn napkins, jotted notes in a secret book, or Word documents filed away in a computer.
My own collection is spread out loosely on lined paper, between book pages, in file folders, as scribbles in a journal, and marks on Post-It notes. Some are on my hard drive, others in the cloud. And I have a pile of hardcopy bursting out of a tray beside my desk.
My husband told me once, “I think you like mess and clutter.”
It’s true on some level (the level being equivalent to the height of my stock and archival paper).
But, I think it’s time to get organized. Time to get professional. A duo-tang. A binder. A pretty box. Something.
It’s time to print my pieces on white 8.5″ x 11″ paper and stamp them with a sturdy paperclip.
It’s time to pound the words out like dust from a Persian rug. It’s time to roll the ink on and feel the warmth of freshly printed paper. It’s time to tie everything up with a string and say, “This is done.”
(It’s time to show my husband the depth of his error… or at least, the depth of how far I will go to try to prove him wrong.)
A toast, then: to my upcoming portfolio—and my husband’s fruitful nagging.
(c) Zara Alexis D. Garcia-Alvarez