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There’s a composition notebook beside me with tabs of various colors sticking out the top. The tabs are to remind me of what information is where, inside the labyrinth of ideas I’ve created. The composition notebook is about a month old and is reaching its end, meanwhile better-quality notebooks lay around either empty or barely used. There’s something about the composition notebook, maybe it’s just the price. They’re at the grocery store and look nice wedged against the side of the basket alongside the milk, so I can’t help but stock up. Unlike milk they never spoil. The notebooks get filled up and sometimes, regrettably, forgotten — maybe tucked away during a move or a Sunday cleaning spree.

This notebook, this tab ridden tomb, is filled with ideas I’m currently working on. It’ll find the edge of my desk a nice home for the remainder of the year, or until the ideas within have all been expanded on and placed on a flash drive. Inevitably this notebook will find its way into a box, or a desk drawer. Years from now I’ll find it and look back on past projects, remembering where they all began, hoping none of them have become spoiled by time.

Fiction writer. Coffee enthusiast. Writer of romance, mystery, and humor. Discover more at and

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