My little sister Grace is a fantastic writer.
And though I feel a smidgen of guilt that the book I've made for her is possibly too pretty to want to mark up,
nothing else will quite do for her Christmas present.
I may have to buy her a practical Hilroy coil bound as well.
But sometimes surely everyone thrives under the pressure of potential and the blank white (peacock blue) page?
Merely agonizing over how to fill a notebook can be a creative exercise.