Five-Subject Life
I recently had the occasion to tell Lucia and Greta about my longstanding love of five-subject notebooks. I’ve always been an organized person, and for many many tween and teen years I kept all of my written material in one place--a five-subject notebook. These notebooks contained everything: stories, poems, drawings, handwriting experiments, and lots and lots of lists. Things I Bought (with prices), Movies I Saw, Books I Read, Things To Buy. Dashed-off notes and spirited, passive-aggressive “letters” to Molly, blathering on about nonsense and demanding she write a letter back. (I must have shown her these letters in the notebook, rather than tear them out.) Most of these “letters” consisted of sentences like, “I am practicing my handwriting. My handwriting is smooth and even. Do you think I have beautiful handwriting? I think my handwriting is amazing.”
I can easily call these sentences to mind because last week I looked through some of these notebooks with Lucia. I have them all, of course, lined up on a bookshelf in my office. Most of them are dated, or dates appear somewhere within, so I can position them in the right time and place of my life. These notebooks are a life in amber, and the most wonderful parts of them are the most quotidien, inconsequential notes and observations. In this way they’re different from my (voluminous boxes of) old journals--first, they’re more fun to look through because they’re free of angsty rants and cringe-y tween insecurities; and second, because they’re full of daily-life details that are often missing from my journal pages. Thank you, past me, for writing down all the things I bought at Phar-Mor in Greensburg in 1991. Thank you, past me, for listing all the movies I saw the summer I was thirteen. Thank you, past me, for drawing a “MUST GET THIS” outfit diagram that consisted of an oversize white blouse, slouchy socks, and loafers, clearly reminding me of what fashion meant to me at fourteen.
There is so much in these notebooks to enjoy. I spent only a few minutes looking through them with Lucia; we were intent on finding a particular set of drawings I’d been telling her about, which (gasp) I was unable to locate. (This is totally unlike me and, frankly, horrifying, and I will not rest until I find them, which I’m sure I will.) But I think it’s time for a more thorough read-through, looking at the notebooks in order.
When did I stop using five-subject notebooks? Which of the colorful volumes is the last? Likely when I started using a computer; likely in college. I’m inspired to return to them, to stop subdividing my written life (journal, writing notebook, planner with lists, blog, social media) and just put it all in one place, as much as I’m able. The archivist in me is attracted to the easy re-chronicling, the clear path backward.
It drives me crazy that my kids have no SYSTEM, that their stories and notes and lists are scattered everywhere, with no rhyme or reason and with no consistent way of saving them. After revisiting my five-subject notebooks last week, I went out and bought a five-subject notebook for each girl for Valentine’s Day. It’s time. I’m crossing my fingers that they both transition to a style of more containment.
I can easily call these sentences to mind because last week I looked through some of these notebooks with Lucia. I have them all, of course, lined up on a bookshelf in my office. Most of them are dated, or dates appear somewhere within, so I can position them in the right time and place of my life. These notebooks are a life in amber, and the most wonderful parts of them are the most quotidien, inconsequential notes and observations. In this way they’re different from my (voluminous boxes of) old journals--first, they’re more fun to look through because they’re free of angsty rants and cringe-y tween insecurities; and second, because they’re full of daily-life details that are often missing from my journal pages. Thank you, past me, for writing down all the things I bought at Phar-Mor in Greensburg in 1991. Thank you, past me, for listing all the movies I saw the summer I was thirteen. Thank you, past me, for drawing a “MUST GET THIS” outfit diagram that consisted of an oversize white blouse, slouchy socks, and loafers, clearly reminding me of what fashion meant to me at fourteen.
There is so much in these notebooks to enjoy. I spent only a few minutes looking through them with Lucia; we were intent on finding a particular set of drawings I’d been telling her about, which (gasp) I was unable to locate. (This is totally unlike me and, frankly, horrifying, and I will not rest until I find them, which I’m sure I will.) But I think it’s time for a more thorough read-through, looking at the notebooks in order.
When did I stop using five-subject notebooks? Which of the colorful volumes is the last? Likely when I started using a computer; likely in college. I’m inspired to return to them, to stop subdividing my written life (journal, writing notebook, planner with lists, blog, social media) and just put it all in one place, as much as I’m able. The archivist in me is attracted to the easy re-chronicling, the clear path backward.
It drives me crazy that my kids have no SYSTEM, that their stories and notes and lists are scattered everywhere, with no rhyme or reason and with no consistent way of saving them. After revisiting my five-subject notebooks last week, I went out and bought a five-subject notebook for each girl for Valentine’s Day. It’s time. I’m crossing my fingers that they both transition to a style of more containment.
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