Storyboarding doesn’t have to be exclusive to the visual artists! Not when there’s a perfectly functional cork board on Facebook Marketplace or your local reuse store. I, for what it’s worth, find the process of constructing a story a substantially visual one. Settings produce a wide range of shadows depending on the time of day, and characters adorn fabrics that speak to their lived experience—even conflict isn’t spared from color.

This impulse to both reproduce and organize the roadmapping in my mind first began when experimenting with these Map Paper cards, but one could do the same with simple, plain index cards. What drew me in with these cards in particular was their layout: a right-hand grid intended for sketching a place, a slim timeline panel, and a left-hand blank space that can be used for a wide variety of scribbling.

They’ve served two functions for me. For my novel, one card represents one chapter. For my short story collection, each card is one contained short story. Focusing on the latter, this approach grants me a broad overview of the entire landscape of stories and is particularly handy given that these short stories have an interconnected quality to them. I’ll even pin a card when the story isn’t much of anything beyond a title just to hold it there.

While they’re simple 6x3 cards, using them in this way and arranging them in your workspace does generate a sense of tangibility to the otherwise conceptual procedure that is writing.

2. A pen that’s an extension of your hand

You may already have this pen in your arsenal. For some, it’s a trusted, reliable instrument that journeys with them throughout the day. For others, it remains desk-bound at home and used exclusively for creative writing. Whatever the case may be, it should be a pen that gets you excited to write and doesn’t cause a fuss every other time you reach for it. There’s no price threshold to meet when it comes to the extension-of-your-hand pen. It need only inspire and be dependable.

My everyday driver in this category is hands down my Kaweco Brass Sport. I’ve always been an appreciator of gold—brass specifically. The patina of this pen makes it feel as though it’s the only pen in the world like it, with my sweat being an active agent in the engraving. It’s reliable, pocket and workbag friendly, and writes like a dream. I keep mine perpetually inked with Diamine Desert Burst.

Something I’ve yet to try but know I want to explore at some point down the line is custom nib grinding. How I see it, this process is akin to tailoring a mass-produced dress to your precise measurements. It reshapes the nib on your fountain pen to adjust for things such as the way you grip your pen and the pressure you apply when writing. I’m tempted to make my way up to the Big Apple this summer for Yoseka’s Stationery Fest, so this could become a reality sooner than expected.

If you’re in need of other pen recs, here are more that fit this bill for me:

• Uni-ball ZENTO Gel Pen - Standard Model - 0.5 mm. Best $3 pen you’ll ever buy.

• The cheaper Kaweco Sports make for fantastic, beginner-friendly fountain pens. The first fountain pen I owned was the apricot Kaweco Sport in Fine. They’re portable, seemingly indestructible little workhorses.

• Any of the Sailor Pro Gear Slims in Fine or Medium Fine. Japanese pen design will only heighten your appreciation of pens—that’s a guarantee. Admittedly, Sailors make up the majority of my pen collection.

• I first heard of the Pilot Custom 823 in Amber from . There’s a reason folks tend to rave about this pen. The recent price hike is gutting, but they truly are magnificent writers. When I think about how this pen will long outlast me, I can’t help but also imagine how many people include it in their wills.

3. Paper and pad that’s conducive for longhand writing stints

I hope my love of longhand writing never wanes, because I find it to be such a therapeutic ritual, even in times when words are cumbersome to produce. When without easy access to a delete button, you’ll find yourself more apt to flesh out a thought and see where something drifts off to. Often, I will revive portions of sentences I’d hastily scratched out. If anything, it’s good practice to incorporate it into your writing sessions, even if intermittently.

So, for those pen-to-pad moments, you’ll want something not too flimsy, not too rigid, and not too hard to keep it all contained. Might I suggest the Postalco system?

These snap pads are brilliantly designed for the “I can never keep my papers together” person I once was. Before investing in this system, I’d have loose-leaf papers in a couple nondescript piles, falsely assuming I’d tend to them later. Or, worse, I’d be out somewhere when the urge to write struck, and I didn’t have my earlier pages to reference.

I especially enjoy the way these pads open, with the top piece extending back in a near 360. It makes writing directly on the pad easy, even when on the go. And the brand carries yellow folders you can archive passages away into and organize as you see fit.

Below is some proof of use while out in the wild. I penned a short story last August while attending a writing workshop in Richmond’s Hollywood Cemetery. It was the first piece I submitted to literary magazines.

4. A writing log you’re dedicated to for 2026

It’s easy for your workflow to go undocumented. I’d wager most writers don’t make a point of briefly logging what they worked on each day, and I can already hear their resistance: “That time could be spent writing an essay, short story, poem, or novel.” And they wouldn’t be wrong. But there’s something so satisfactory in seeing all the days you participated in the craft in a month or week view that a planner provides. It’s a granular version of #1 on this list in that it showcases progress. Sometimes, that’s all the motivation needed to keep going.

I touched on the Hobonichi Weeks product in my debut Substack, but something new I’ve introduced this year is a Hobonichi Weeks dedicated to logging my writing progress. In the monthly spread, I’ll denote what I worked on that day, when I’ve finished a piece, or when I submitted to a literary magazine. And in the chunk of the planner, which are the weekly pages, I’ll go into more depth about what I accomplished or friction I’ve encountered. It’s not extensive. But, in a way, it’s holding me accountable. It encourages me to show up every day so that I’ll have something to input.

There are 74 blank pages in the back. I’ve retrofitted several listicle-type sections here: literary goals, Substack ideas, interesting words, literary magazines, books I wish to read, and a miscellaneous one.

I intentionally chose the Yuichi Inoue design from the 2026 Hobonichi lineup to act as my north star for this endeavor. Inoue is a beloved 20th-century Japanese artist, “known for breaking free from the confines of traditional calligraphy and creating bold, powerful pieces full of life.”

This was the line from the Hobonichi website that sold me on the cover:

“We used the Amenimo Makezu piece for the cover of the Weeks book. He kept writing even after his Conté crayon broke, and the parts where he messed up he just scribbled it out and kept writing. You can see that momentum and blurred writing even on the Weeks cover.”

I’m aiming to emulate that self-discipline and persistence this year.

Shortcuts:
STATIONERY
BOOKS
CERAMICS
TEXTILES

STATIONERY

TOKYO

• Kanda Used Book Festival: X | Japan Travel

• Yamagataya Kamiten: Google Maps

• Tobichi: Google Maps | Instagram

• Traveler’s Company: Tokyo Station Google Maps | Nakameguro Flagship Store Google Maps | Instagram

• Bungubox: Google Maps | Instagram

• Tools: Google Maps

• LOFT: Google Maps

KURASHIKI

• The Superior Labor: Google Maps

KYOTO

• Kyukyodo: Google Maps

• Traveler’s Company Kyoto: Google Maps

Simply put, all roads lined with washi tape lead to Japan. This is true for several reasons, starting with the fact that washi tape was born in Kurashiki, a city in Okayama Prefecture that we had the chance to visit. It’s also thanks to the world-renowned stationery brands that call Japan home. You’ll see a few of them in this list—Hobonichi, Traveler’s Company, and The Superior Labor among them.

Starting chronically on our trip, I somehow managed to coincide our time in Tokyo with the Tokyo International Film Festival, Halloween, and, arguably the most memorable of them all, the Kanda Used Book Festival. This is an annual late-October tradition in Jimbocho and features long stretches of book and art vendors out on the sidewalks and alleys. In addition to picking up some remarkable vintage books, I bought old postcards and what I thought were stamps, but turns out are old match labels for alcohol and juice. I intend to use these in my travel journal spreads and perhaps as notebook cover decor. The old match labels were purchased from Misumi Book and the lovely postcards came from Komodo Books.

The first proper stationery stop on our journey was Yamagataya Kamiten, a paper specialty store founded in 1879. After exploring all that the Kanda Used Book Festival had to offer, I navigated us here, intent on purchasing their Mt. Fuji postcards. Mt. Fuji postcards, as you can imagine, are easier to find than a gachapon machine in Japan, but I was after these specific ones because they’re handmade by the owner using washi and were featured in a Chiyoda souvenir booklet. It’s easy to see why. There are numerous options, all depicting the mountain during different seasons. Special shoutout to Michelle of Tokyotique; without her YouTube video, I don’t think I would’ve found this store.

Next in Tokyo was Tobichi, Hobonichi’s flagship store. It’s midway down an alley, so you do have to know where it is you’re headed when seeking this shop out. This is where you go if you’re after a planner, notebook, notebook cover, or stationery storage. I was a kid on Christmas morning here, leaving with everything on my list and two store-exclusive stamps in my trip stamp book. This spot is a must-see for any stationery lover.

The following morning we visited Akihabara, the anime district. While en route, I made a pit stop at TOOLS, an art supplies and stationery store I’d not heard of when trip researching. Although it was a brisk, surface-level search, I managed to snag stamps, two Hightide Nähe cases, a few washi tapes, and a Sailor ink.

Later that same day, when walking solo around Jimbocho while my husband had a quick 4pm power nap, I visited Bungubox. Their Quartier Latin ink is something I’ve wanted for ages. Seeing it and the store in-person was lovely, though nothing tops the store employee who stuffed my small bag with candy (it was the day before Halloween) and offered me a coupon for the Tokyo International Pen Show taking place that weekend. Broke my heart to tell her we’d be on the bullet train to Okayama during that time. But she smiled and began telling me all about her time in that prefecture. While the bottle of ink is sure to run out one day, I’ll never forget our interaction.

Now for the star of the show: Traveler’s Company. It’s hard to distill what it is about this brand that has completely consumed my interest, but perhaps it’s the ability (and encouragement) to tailor nearly every aspect of the product to you and your creative needs. Their leather covers are referred to as “Traveler’s Notebooks,” or TNs for short, and come in a handful of color variants. There are limited edition covers and inserts available at their four Japan brick-and-mortar stores, each featuring different foiled designs. I was after the train cover found only at the Tokyo Station store. I managed to secure the cover and other accessories, such as folder inserts, stickers, washi tape, and charms. I was thrilled to be able to visit three out of the four stores, which include the train station, the flagship in Nakameguro, and the one in Kyoto.

When discussing these brick-and-mortar stores, most Traveler’s Company aficionados will also make mention of a Kurashiki brand called The Superior Labor. While mainly known for their leather and canvas goods, they go beyond the typical Traveler’s Company partner store arrangement by allowing customers to come in right when they open to sit down with a shop employee and customize a Traveler’s Company cover using unique patches, charms, stamps, and leather pockets. I entered the city determined to make one of my own. Luckily, I didn’t leave empty-handed. And it turns out, neither did my husband. He loved the store visit so much that he craved one for himself, so he had a custom leather bag made the next day. The whole experience couldn’t have been more personalized, and the quality of their leather cannot be understated. If what you want to bring home from Japan is something no one else has, this is the direction I’d point you in. Plus, Kurashiki was the highlight of the entire trip for me. It’s a stunning, slower-paced city that offers canal and historic building views at every angle. There’s little in the way of tourists there, which was refreshing coming off of Tokyo.

Rounding out the stationery category is Kyukyodo, based in Kyoto. Besides The Superior Labor, this store’s interior design and product layout was the most memorable. If there’s only time for you to visit one stationery store in Kyoto, let it be this one. I didn’t learn of it’s history until back stateside. In 1180, a member of the Kumagai family “was given the family crest of the “facing pigeon” by Minamoto no Yoritomo in recognition of his military achievements.”1 To dive deeper into how to family evolved over the centuries to ultimately open this store, consult their website.

BOOKS

TOKYO

• Kanda Used Book Festival: X | Japan Travel

• Nyankodo: Google Maps | Facebook

• Book House: Google Maps | Instagram

• Animate: Google Maps | Instagram

KYOTO

• Machimachi Books (マチマチ書店)

We started our first full day in Tokyo at Nyankodo, a cat book specialty store. We’re shiba inu owners, so I suppose you could say we own a half cat, half dog. We popped in the shop as we were making our way down to the Kanda Used Book Festival, and the atmosphere in there couldn’t have been better. Beyond books, there are cat postcards, tenugui, washi tape, buttons, and more. I picked up a collection of works by Sakutaro Hagiwara, illustrated by Etsuko Kanaida. It includes Hagiwara’s first two major poetry collections, Howling at the Moon and Blue Cat, along with the prose-poem novella Cat Town. A preliminary google search while admiring the book in the store told me Hagiwara (1886-1942) was quite experimental for his era, favoring free verse and darker, brooding themes that sometimes employed surrealism. For example, Hagiwara “contended that “psychic terror” distinguished his work, and the first poem of the collection describes the nightmare of being buried alive.”2 As an Edgar Allen Poe girl myself, I’m eager to dive into Hagiwara’s works.

Having already touched on the Kanda Used Book Festival in my stationery bit, I’ll keep this brief. The two books I picked up during the festival are unintentionally both vehicle related. The orange vintage magazine I originally plucked from the stack under the assumption it was about actual trains, not toy trains. But after peering inside, I was still interested. The thicker one is a 20th century Japanese automobile guide.

Later on while still in Jimbocho, we bopped into Book House, which I’d heard carried some American and UK stories in Japanese. It was here I picked up a Japanese version of Frog & Toad. The fact that this was a staple in my childhood was reason enough, but it felt extra warranted due to Frog and Toad joining the Loft exclusive edition lineup of the Hobonichi Techo this year.

The last of my book shopping in Tokyo took place in Akihabara, the anime district. People find out quickly the level of Attack on Titan fan I am when they ask about our dog’s name. That said, I was hoping to come home with some unique AoT merch, but sadly, I couldn’t find any. Not even a gachapon machine! Manga at Animate was the best I could do. I couldn’t part with one of the Studio Ghibli art books while browsing, so the one focusing on Howl’s Moving Castle was also added to my basket.

Unexpectedly, my last book related purchase took place within the depths of Kyoto Station, moments before we boarded our last shinkansen back to Tokyo. We were looking for a bathroom when we stumbled upon a vendor who arranged several shelves and tables in the open shopping area. I finally did end up purchasing a book on actual trains, and it proved worth the wait for the photography alone. When I removed the dust jacket, I was shocked to find it also contained not one, but two 33 ⅓ records inside. After speaking with the vendor, I found out the records feature recordings of various Japanese steam locomotives, including the Class 8620 and Class 9600, which date back to the 1910s and 1920s. Needless to say, this was an easy buy. While here, I also picked up two more hardcovers: “Masterpieces of Kosan-ji Temple: the complete scrolls of Choju Giga Kyoto Japan” and “Photographs of Old Kyoto Japan in Final Edo Bakumatsu.”

A subcategory that needed to be included here is goshuin.

As someone who secured their eki stamp book prior to even stepping on the plane, I was elated to discover the wondrous world that is goshuin. Most shrines and temples offer goshuin, which is a unique stamp/seal found and administered only at that institution. In addition to the unique stamp, the monk or staffer will inscribe the date you visited as a means of documenting your specific pilgrimage. These goshuin can only be put in a goshuinchō, as this is considered a religious book. But don’t worry, most temples and shrines offer their own goshuinchō. Plus, you can find them at stationery stores.

The process by which the goshuin is added to your goshuinchō varies: sometimes you’re lucky enough to watch them design it right in front of you, other times it comes as a single sheet tip-in that you tape in yourself, and occasionally it’s busy enough that you hand over your notebook and they call your number when it’s ready. All of these methods were part of our goshuin experience in Japan, each one perfectly chronicling our journey.

CERAMICS

TOKYO

• Komatsuya: Google Maps

KURASHIKI

• Bizen Tohbidou: Instagram | Google Maps

KYOTO

• Sawai: Google Maps

If you’re anything like me and know no limit when it comes to dining ware, visiting Kappabashi while in Tokyo is a must. This area is called “Kitchen Town” for a reason. There, you’ll find several ceramics, chopsticks, and kitchen appliance stores. Komatsuya is where we bought both the dinner and serving plate pictured above. Had I no concern for shipping or luggage storing, I wouldn’t have issued as much restraint. But alas, I cherish these two pieces and can’t wait to use them.

The four small circle dishes are perhaps my favorite of the lot. I picked these and the sake set up in Kurashiki. The four were sitting out among other large pieces on a table display in front of Bizen Tohbidou, and they immediately made me think of the moon. While small, the detailing throughout is phenomenal.

Lastly, the chopstick rest set came from a small Kyoto inn located in Higashiyama Ward called Sawai. The inn appeared to be further back in the building, whereas the main entrance and outside table operated as a small decor antique store. The design of the chopstick rests, to me at least, looks like koi. Inside the wooden box I was thrilled to find an information slip, though I still don’t know exactly what it reads. My husband and I are attempting to learn Japanese together, so maybe one day we’ll know. Because I’ll tell you right now, Google Translate sure doesn’t.

TEXTILES

ALL CITIES

• Tenugui

KURASHIKI

• Yomogi: Google Maps

• Kurashiki Ivy Square: Google Maps

KYOTO

• Yasaka Shrine: Google Maps | Instagram

Tenugui is available in nearly every shop in the cities we visited. These traditional small towels are multi-functional, commonly used for drying hands or dishes as well as a hair accessory or gift wrap. I couldn’t resist picking some up at every city, even snagging the Itoya one at Haneda Airport before our flight home. Sidenote: Haneda will ruin all other airports for you. The pre-gate shopping experience was otherworldly and made our lengthy red-eye wait not just tolerable but fun.

Yomogi in Kurashiki ended up being one of my favorite store experiences of the trip. The owner was a delight to talk to, even coming back to the dressing room to chat with me about the two tops I tried on. The style of clothing is specific to Kurashiki and is made in the city. Highly recommend stopping by if you want a unique article of clothing to bring home.

Kurashiki Ivy Square wasn’t on the itinerary but was a place we happened upon when walking from the house we were staying at to the canal. In their large event space was a massive multi-vendor setup, all selling various denim goods, from jeans to keychains, bags, jackets, and hats. I bought lots of smaller trinkets to gift to friends and family but kept the little denim jacket keychain and green asanoha pattern pen case for myself. I’d love to come back to Kurashiki and buy denim jeans and jackets.

My red crane table runner was bought at a booth within Yasaka Shrine for less than fifteen dollars, making it arguably one of the most touristy exchanges I had while in Japan. But a table runner or placemats was on my trip wishlist, and I couldn’t pass this design up.

On the scale from Toni Morrison and Joan Didion, who long leveraged notebooks to aid their story process, to the likes of Stephen King, who notoriously dismisses a companion pad due to the belief it’s the “best way to immortalize bad ideas,” I identify with the former, prescribing a great deal of importance to an everyday carry notebook that provides nothing more than a blank space for whatever passing thought, quote, observation, or even word I, in that moment, find worth preserving.

I’ve spent a year taming the writer's largest beast—the novel. From my teenage years into my early twenties, short-lived attempts were made with similar out-the-gate gusto. None sit curled by my side now. Those creatures never so much as complied to a call, let alone held a consistent name. Instead, they all roam the ever-expanding land of stray, surrendered thought.

This recent venture has yet to suffer a similar release to the wild, which I attribute to a number of factors, but an undeniable one that resides surprisingly close to the top is the coordinated notebook system I’ve set for myself and, most critically, use with a level of consistency that mimics my approach to novel writing.

In the tail-end of 2024—a handful of months into this novel project—I dusted off another interest of mine: stationery. It’s not a head-scratching pair, especially given my preference for writing longhand. I always was a child with a diary, and come college, seldom spotted without my large A4 sized Passion Planner. But somewhere in the mirage of my twenties, I seemed to have left the longing for a pen and pad behind. I was thrilled to find the stationery community as lively and welcoming as ever once I stood at its door empty-handed. Soon, I possessed a pack of Field Notes notebooks and decided I should use them in a coordinated effort with my novel writing.

Initially, it was sometimes forgotten on my desk when I left for work. But it wasn’t long before it became as essential as my pen, both a companion and chief imagination officer. That Field Notes notebook was primarily used to harbor curious words or quotes and passing ideas for my story, as grainy as one line of dialogue or as capacious as a major plot point. It’s a fascinating flip through, this first notebook. From where I stand now, it reads as preliminary architectural drafts when held up to the structure well past breaking ground, with a confident, discernible frame.

I am my father’s daughter, so I find the idea of a land surveyor’s “field notes” type logbook most fitting for this dynamic of observing and engaging with our natural world. While he uses his for scribbling angles from his control points to the corners of houses in his direct line of sight, my deciphering verges more in the region of the intangible. Both terrains prove fruitful for documenting.

My last-ditch effort in suggesting Field Notes notebooks as a beneficial starting point: Lin-Manuel Miranda uses them.

I’m attached to these yellow grid field notebooks due to their thicker, fountain pen friendly paper. The small ruler flap printed in the back is a surprisingly useful touch. They’re no longer sold by the brand, but still available on platforms like eBay.

Once a routine formed with this pocket pal and more infrastructure was craved and called for, I expanded my singular setup by adding a larger A5-sized “Interesting Words” notebook to the mix. That way, there was one devoted space to consult vocabulary I deemed of interest, whether for a specific scene or simply because I enjoy its existence. There’s no parameter around needing to use them for my novel, though there has been one such occasion when I sought inspiration in this book while stuck in those paralyzing first paragraphs of a chapter. Noteworthy syntax starts from words. Why not construct a catalog of all the ones that, at some point or another, jumped out at you from a page, sign, or song?

The zipper case (available in both A5 and A6 size) is a standout from last year’s Hobonichi lineup called the Café au Lait Plaid. It’s expensive, but I cannot overstate its quality. The leather interior is stunning and will last a lifetime. While Hobonichi is a Japanese brand, their products are available through plenty of US retailers. The grid notebook I tuck in this zipper case is also from Hobonichi. Hiroko Kubota’s “Another night of falling star sparklers” is gorgeous, especially in a context where I impose myself and this notebook’s purpose into the artwork, catching words and stringing them along in my own curious constellation.

I can only speak for myself when I say, when in the throes of a story, the piece is always riding shotgun. It nudges the steering wheel when I overhear a strange exchange at the grocery store or when I’m completely unaccompanied while on a long walk. I’ve learned better than to try and understand the nature of how these curious interruptions work, and instead jot them down so as to not let the moment go undocumented and ultimately, out to pasture where those wild thoughts wander, never to be heard from again.

A way to work in tandem with this invisible guide, or as Brandon Sanderson puts it, “prime your mind,” is to utilize the otherwise empty spaces in your day, be it your commute or workout, to think through the next part of your story you’ll pen once at your desk. That way, you’re not sifting through musings of a concept for a half hour before things flow. This is one of the most impactful pieces of writing advice I’ve undertaken and continues propelling my narrative towards the finish line.

My commute to work is characteristically short, clocking in somewhere between eight and eleven minutes. For most, that’s a spectacular perk of the job. For someone aiming to devise their next unwritten chapter, it’s cruel. When I began implementing this Sanderson principle, I often found I was halfway up the hill of a good idea under this time constraint. But, after a good deal of regimentation, I noticed one day after I passed the house with yellow curtains, I’d produced a spark. Then, upon approaching the colonial on the corner nearly engulfed in vine, I’d molded something of note. This highly concentrated eureka didn’t occur every day. But nevertheless, an attempt was always made and, on the good days, frantically logged once parked.

On the days I knew where I was to take my story, I couldn’t resist using this time instead to deconstruct an existing and beloved narrative that wasn’t my own. I distinctly recall using one late spring commute to ponder over a movie my husband and I watched the night before, a childhood favorite of mine: Studio Ghibli’s “Castle in the Sky.” I hadn’t seen it since I was eight. For an adventure story that promises a mystical floating city called Laputa, we don’t actually spend much time perched up there. The majority of the movie is spent finding the castle while evading the government. Like Sheeta and Pazu, I began searching, trying my best to pinpoint what specifically in its composite made it compelling, both as a child and now as a thirty-year-old.

I believe that’s where I came up with the idea for my “Compelling Narratives” notebook, a hardcover A5 notebook that could accommodate long-winded analyses of story structure, pursuit, and packaging. If one is to pen their own compelling narrative, why not continuously evaluate what works for others?

The structure section is self-explanatory; it’s where I atomize the story until an arc reveals itself. Where might one find the midpoint? Why did the creator choose multiple POVs, and how did they go about divvying out such a task to its characters? Is the author adherent to the three-act approach? All are addressed in this part.

Coming off the heels of logic, I enjoy the subjectivity of the pursuit section, which encourages me to identify the creators' relationship to the story and why they were best suited to tell such a tale. What was their process like for constructing this piece? What’s their routine? If I’m up for the task, sometimes I’ll seek out the author's lineup of published work to compare, as this tends to elevate my understanding of who they were in that particular season of life.

I consider the realm of the visual a great deal. Naturally, packaging warranted its own section. Ever since I began reading chapter books, I found the “don’t judge a book by its cover” phrase (when applied to books) rather silly and frankly against human nature. It is my belief the author is just as responsible for the packaging as they are for its content, because no one else is as intimately acquainted with the story as its creator. The packaging of a book should be the acreage of the author, with the aid of artists who can render requests out of the author’s wheelhouse. This real estate is precious, and ever since we relegated this integral and sacred part of the story to pre-made templates and trends, it continues to deface a story’s value and desecrate the beauty that is a clever and complementary cover design.

Both my degrees uphold this conviction, and I will die on the hill that defends human-made art, for there’s no greater shame than resorting to non-human-made artwork to sell a story, which I can’t help but judge as soulless upon first glance. We must do our part to prioritize ornate beauty found in art that can only be made by humans with their own, individual lived experiences. For these reasons and a slew of others, I chose to analyze a story’s external contents and variations, because I will always see it as the story’s facial expression upon introducing itself. And a machine that has no face of its own will never understand how to participate in this ancestral exchange.

The star of the show, the bold, yellow A5 notebook, is from a German brand called Semikolon, which I sourced from my local stationery store, Merrymaker. The two covers I use for this notebook are rather unnecessary if judged strictly by utility, seeing as the hardcover notebook is plenty sturdy. But, to me, these covers provide added pockets and an undeniable flare of wonder, as the manga-style cover features actual panels from Junji Ito’s Tomie manga, his first and still widely recognizable work in the manga community. As a massive fan of horror and gothic, I find a lot of his tales inspiring.

Throughout the seasons of 2026, I plan on interchanging the Junji Ito cover with this year’s Hobonichi Pine Forest A5 cover, which was a special collaboration with the Tokyo National Museum. As stated on the Hobonichi site, “Pine Forest is a work of art that was painted by Hasegawa Tohaku nearly 420 years ago during the Azuchi–Momoyama period. He was believed to be in his 50’s when he painted Pine Forest. Some believe that Tohaku, who lost his son at a young age, may have painted this image from memory while imagining the coast of his hometown where he walked with his son.” I can’t help but think of my Virginia blue ridge mountains in winter when I see this cover at my desk.

If not glaringly apparent by now, reflecting on a piece of media I believe to be a valuable use of time. If anything, we don’t do it enough. That’s one of many things that frightens me about social media—the way it erodes our sense of sitting with something for longer than thirty seconds. I’m certainly not immune.

Before I’d conceived of the “Compelling Narratives” notebook, I was already doing a granular version of it for months, dead set on combating doomscrolling by intentionally logging and rating creative media I engaged with, including novels, anime, graphic novels, short stories, and movies. It’s one of the notebooks I cherish most from my curation this year, and I found genuine improvement in my retention and recall when asked what I thought of a work months later. There’s considerable research that supports the idea that writing longhand boosts your ability to both learn and remember. So with all this in mind, I knew I wanted to not only continue a media log into the new year, but take it up a notch.

Rivaling my love of Field Notes is Hobonich’s “weeks” product, a slim planner from the brand’s annual collection that often features highly sought-after artist collaborations. I found this year I crammed too much into one small hobby-logging Traveler’s Notebook grid insert, so the idea of utilizing a Hobonichi weeks entirely for media logging seems like a sensible switch-up. I’m eager to give it a try. Most who are well-versed in the world of planners probably associate the weeks product as strictly for task and general life management, and understandably so, as that’s its intended use case. But I love the idea of seeing media I was engaging with at both a monthly and weekly glance, with 74 blank pages in the back for beefier reviews. Plus, the Junji Ito weeks design was far too grand a spectacle to not be the face of this endeavor.

For those curious to know the cover I plan to keep this Hobonichi weeks inside, it’s the Traveler’s Notebook regular in black, which I customized through Baum Kuchen’s Truly Yours service. You can either mail your beloved Traveler’s Notebook cover to Baum Kuchen or buy one through them to have it customized.

An ongoing list of authors who use notebooks in their story process:

• Octavia Butler

• Mary Shelley

• Lin-Manuel Miranda

• Daniel Mason — his book “North Woods” still reigns as my favorite read of 2025.

• F. Scott Fitzgerald — #3 in this compilation of tips.

• — see the tiny nugget of insight in the last paragraph.

• Ryan Coogler — humor me here: I know it’s not explicitly stated in paragraph five, but I refuse to trash my vision of Coogler drafting Smoke and Stack somewhere in the margins of a notebook.

Please feel free to comment other authors I should add and where they make mention of using a notebook.