When I crack open a new notebook, I love seeing all those crisp blank pages just begging to be inked. They are the endless possibilities, and the enthusiasm of what is to come. But after that first giddy moment, I freeze with pen hovering, not daring to defile the dream. What is worthy of that first brave page? Surely not the drivel of a first draft?
Writers, are you with me?
Instead of closing the book, waiting for perfectly composed thoughts to form first in my head (they never do), I do the only logical thing: turn the page, and start writing.
I want very much to leave this first page blank too, but then, I can’t very well post a blank page……can I?
So, there, I’ve done it. Spoiled the first page in an impeccable notebook, and now we can move on, pretend this never happened, and dive onto the blessedly forgiving second page.