Throughout my life, I’ve kept what I call my writing creativity book — part diary, part treasure chest. It’s a jumble of notes I’ve gathered over the years, little scraps of wisdom and inspiration I knew would be useful one day, when I finally started writing in earnest.

The book is divided into sections: characters, plots, lists of words I love, scents and colours that stir something in me, quotes that inspire, snippets of overheard conversations, and countless other odds and ends. It’s not a book to read from cover to cover, but a place to wander in when I need to spark an idea.

For most of its life, the book sat quietly on my shelf, waiting. I would add to it now and then, but I didn’t really use it. That changed last year, when I left my full-time job to focus on creating a blog and finally devoting myself to creative writing.

I brushed off the dust and opened it. Inside, I found not just ideas, but reminders of how I wanted to write, and how to make the mechanics of storytelling work for me. Now, when I take an idea from its pages and put it into practice, I highlight it — a way of marking the moment it came to life and making sure I don’t repeat it unnecessarily.

After years of waiting, my creativity book is no longer just a repository of inspiration. It’s a living, working part of my writing life — and perhaps, in its quiet way, it always knew it would be.