Until you write upon it, in your own hand,
it is not your book.
You are what you write and draw – never make apologies for it. No matter how flawed, lame or incomplete you think your jottings are, your grandchildren and great grandchildren will treasure them as the very fabric of your soul.
How do I know? Because I spend many hours repairing and restoring journals from years past that the author may have dreaded to think might one day be precious.
Break out that leather journal and pour your soul upon it, unashamed and honest – your descendants will be grateful you did..
and remember – no matter how convenient the kindle and the ipad, no-one wants to inherit one. It’s leather, paper and ink that make memories.