J is for Journal

When I was in middle school I kept a journal. I didn’t write in my diary every single night, but it was always there, ready to listen, ready to help me work through thoughts and feelings I wasn’t quite ready to share with anyone else.

I’m not sure what happened to those diaries, or when they stopped being important enough for me to care. But now, more than twenty years later, I often wish I’d held onto those journals.

Like many writers, I’m completely obsessed with writing instruments. I’m admi...