I have a thing for notebooks; leather-bound travel journals, black and white speckled composition books, stacks of spiral bound notebooks waiting on the store shelves for excited back to school shoppers. I even have some books on how to make your own books. So I have a predisposition for paper bound up between hard covers that you are supposed to write all over.
Now that I am writing I carry a notebook everywhere I go. There is one in my backpack and one by my bed and several scattered around the house. I start a new composition book with every story and use it to make character notes, block out scenes, write back-story, and jot down blocks of dialogue. I get excited when I have enough percolating around in my head that I NEED to start writing it down in a fresh notebook.
And I started one last night for a new story. My female protagonist doesn’t have a name yet, but she is sitting at a bar having a drink because she doesn’t want to go home after a stressful day at work and a man sits next to her and starts to chat using some atrocious pick up lines. The trick is, he is the owner of the establishment and when he asks her what she is drinking, he is just doing market research. They are going to have so much fun together.