Nancy on Nancy
I must have known I would be an author because when I was five years old I made a scrapbook that featured six examples of fountain pens. Inside the 9 x 12 inch spiral scrapbook were greeting cards, cartoons, and pictures I'd cut out of magazines such as babies, buildings, food, trucks, cars, trains, and most importantly six examples of fountain pens in green, black/white, blue, and gold.
The history of writing instruments correlates with the history of civilization and, by the way, mankind has always recorded his thoughts, feelings and even grocery lists. The first writing instruments were sharpened-stone tools onto cave walls. Many centuries later the main writing instrument was a pen made from a bird feather.
At eleven years of age I made another scrapbook. The 11 x 15 inch album was just my story, not a presentation. On pages now deteriorating, I recorded events such as my piano recitals, elocution lessons, football game programs, my report cards, dance club programs, and my certificate of graduation from junior high school. I didn't know it then, but my shared story was to connect the past with the future.
Next, I started writing in diaries with one page representing a week. Each handwritten pencil entry was arranged by date about what was happening. It encouraged me to express my feelings and promote my thoughts. My diaries were not meant for historians and more than likely not for my family and friends, but for me as a personal storytelling format. There certainly was no intention to publish. I was not able to sustain the practice and my meager writings have been lost.
Another scrapbook followed in my high school days. The 10 x 12 inch horizontal scrapbook was all about me, the uniqueness of a personality, and my friends. It was a compelling story only to me as the participant. With rubber cement paste I placed my souvenirs on non archival paper as I told of laughter and fun times. My adventures and travels filled the pages. Even everyday moments and their details were worth noting that later I recognized as grand memories.
During my college days, a vertical scrapbook of white leather, 11 x 14 inch, attempted to tell with its title, my way of life — who, what, when, where, why and how by including names, dates, locations and events. With scotch tape the handwritten words made it more personal, like a handwritten message to engage the reader.
Next came a series of yearly calendars as a way to record the activities of my life. The first small calendar I used was to show how many days until a certain event and how long since a certain event. It was not a custom calendar, but folded for easy reference and storage. The writing instrument was always a No. 2 pencil with good erasers because daily living brought unexpected changes.
Another attempt at story telling produced yearly diaries. The first ones were rather small but as the years accumulated I standardized a 6 x 9 inch larger size and binding. It was not officially a journal, because I wrote in it every day. But I thought of it as journaling.
Then at middle age I began making notes for what I later decided would be my effort to write a book. The strict regimen included writing with only felt tip pens on legal size paper. I advanced to fountain pens because it made what I was writing very special as the pen made thick and thin strokes. As my writing expanded and I acquired a quiet space, a respite from everyday life, I housed a complete array of writing instruments — fountain pens, felt tip pens, ball point pens, pencils, magic markers, and red micro pens.
My first book was typed many, many times on an electric typewriter. Afterwards I actually charted on graph paper how many times I used themes such as shoes, shirts and hats. When I advanced to a computer I could only work so long refining sentences, moving paragraphs until I had to print the words on good 8 1/2 x 11 inch, twenty-two pound, ninety-six brilliant paper.
With many stacks of paper, I needed paper weights to hold them in place as I filed them horizontally on a guest bed. Each paper weight in my collection of paper weights revealed a story — one from research trips, travels, museums, interested friends and family.
With scrapbooks, diaries, journals, notes, writing instruments, computers. and paper weights I had become not only a writer, but an author.
