Actually, it’s brown, but I’ve carried a tiny, leather notebook for at least a decade. I have a stash of new inserts and when one is full I pull it out, date the cover, and thumb through it to remind myself of the contents.
- Notes on a lecture by Ray Kurzweil, creator of the concept of the Singularity, predicting computer technology in the coming 20 years: “self-replicating technologies,” the proliferation of malevolent software (and how to stop it), and other gems of futuristic vision.
- Notes from a February 2006 MWA meeting that included especially grisly information about bodies after death, example: cherry red skin color indicates carbon monoxide poisoning. (I’m leaving out the more graphic examples.)
- Quotes from what was obviously a stimulating lecture on the masks we wear in society by University of Chicago faculty member and author Wendy Doniger: “The reason I hate spending an evening with boring people is not that they bore me but that I bore me because of the mask I wear.” Good stuff for a writer of social satire.
- A drawing of a cool porch swing I saw in Bali and dreamed I might one day build for the porch of the house I might one day have…
- A raft of hastily written notes that helped solve a major plot problem in the book I was working on, which became MURDER IN THE ABSTRACT (2010)
Other notebooks have detailed descriptions of people I see in restaurants, tantalizing snatches of overheard conversation, hand drawn maps of streets I want to use as settings in books, and names of fascinating people I met, or books that someone recommended.
Do I use this stuff? Maybe not all of it, not directly, not so far. But some, definitely, and as for the rest, who knows when a character of mine might realize she’s put on a mask to hide something vital from someone else? And, because we can all dream, I might win the lottery, get that house with a porch someday, and need a swing!
(Post revised from December 2010 LadyKillers blog post.)

