time for a new notebook

I told the fishing boat skipper that I was having a difficult time writing. The next day, when he gave me my dorado fillets, he said "I have a book to loan you." It was "Writing Down the Bones" by Natalie Goldberg. "What are you doing with this book?" I asked him. "I thought it looked interesting and I figured it might come in handy some day." I like the skipper - or "skeeper" as they say in Mexico. The skeeper also says "como esta frijole?" translated as "how you bean?" which cracked me up when I heard Juan, our Mexican fishing buddy, say it.

"Writing Down the Bones" was written in 1986, before household electronics included personal computers or laptops, so Ms. Goldberg begins by talking about the importance of using a good pen - one that flows across the paper - and carefully selecting the notebook to be used. Oh sure, she says, you can use a typewriter but that has a different feel, maybe even a different result.

The first person Natalie thanks in the acknowledgments is her typist. I remember those days when the typist was important. I used to type Ph.D. dissertations, masters theses, poems, books, all for other people, and I made good money doing it. I wonder if there has been a book published since the mid-1990's where the author thanks his or her typist. Probably not many. It's kind of sad really, a good typist tossed on the trash heap of manual typewriters and IBM Selectrics.

When I cannot bear to sit down at the laptop, when my legs and back hurt or my fingers go numb, I take my notebook to my bed or to the patio or to the beach or to Jorge's and I write there. Just yesterday I wrote while sitting on Jorge's patio, watching the pelicans dive for fish, really watching them and trying to write what I saw. A while back, because I couldn't find a journal I liked, I started buying lined subject notebooks with dividers with pockets. I like writing in them because they are spiral bound and thus the pages lay flat. And the pockets have come in handy for slipping in notes and photos and letters from friends and jailbirds.

When I got home from Jorge's I read the next chapter which happened to be about writing in cafes. Which I had just done. And which I had done on a couple of occasions when I lived at the Home of Dashed Hopes, writing at the local bar, even while carrying on conversations with fellow barflies. I actually like those writings. I remembered that Anne Rice wrote "Interview with the Vampire" while sitting in cafes in Berkeley and Oakland, even the one I worked at when I wasn't home typing books for other people.

The timing of my trip north couldn't be better. I cannot wait to go to Office Max or Office Depot and get some new notebooks. I may even buy a fountain pen or two, pick up different colored ink cartridges. Maybe some day I'll hire a typist to type my handwritten stories. If I do, I'll be sure to thank her in my acknowledgments.