Writer's pocketbook

My new messenger-bag-style writer's pocketbook with the middle-grade novel I'm currently reading.

Like most people who utilize pocketbooks, I have several from which to choose based on the situation. However, fashion is not my goal. My pocketbook priorities are pragmatic in nature.

My small black pocketbook, for example, is for fancy evening affairs like Valentine's Day date night. I don't need to carry much other than lip balm, my ID, my debit card, and my phone.

My small brown crossbody pocketbook is for errands or a Costco trip. It's a little bigger because I carry a small wallet, a set of keys, and a written list to back up the electronic list on my phone.

When I have a doctor's appointment or have to travel, I switch everything to my writer's pocketbook. The roomy writer's pocketbook is crucial for whenever there's a chance for downtime.

What is a writer's pocketbook, you ask? It's what I call the pocketbook that's big enough to hold the book I'm currently reading, a small notebook, pens, reading glasses, my cell phone, my entire wallet with all its gift and ID cards, lip balm, and handkerchiefs.

As a writer, I need to be able to read, jot down or record voice notes when ideas strike, make lists, and otherwise keep my writer/reader mind happy. As you probably guessed, I prefer a book to a screen.

As someone who purchases pocketbooks for utilitarian use, I'm also the person who keeps it until it falls apart. My writer's pocketbook recently did just that. A broken zipper, torn fabric, and non-working snaps forced me to shop for something new.

I went to a department store, but the options were expensive—those who purchase pocketbooks based on practicality don't like to pay $98—even if they do plan to use it for a good two decades. None of the department store pocketbooks suited my style, either. If I could convince myself to part with $98, it would have to be for something that fits my personality and attitude. Leather bags with scalloped edges, floral prints, and gold trim do not scream "Micki Bare author who teaches and Mimi extraordinaire".

After the department store, I wandered through shoe stores and specialty shops. Unfortunately, today's youthful pocketbook trends include small backpacks and glittery bedazzlement. Since I'm not twelve, despite writing in a middle-grade voice, my search continued. Interesting side note: Zahra's human bestie Danni would've loved some of the shoe store pocketbook options.

That led me to an online search. Amongst a plethora of digital retailers, I found a reasonably priced messenger-bag-style pocketbook roomy enough for my wares. Thankfully, this all transpired just in time—I was able to use my new writer's pocketbook on a recent visit to see a new doctor.

Upon arrival, I checked in and sat down to wait. I opened my book, read two sentences, and my name was called. I followed the nurse to the exam room. She took my vitals, asked questions, said the doctor would be in soon, and then left. I opened my book.

Two pages in, the doctor walked into the exam room. Rather than introduce himself, he asked what I was reading. Then he commented on how refreshing it was to see someone reading an actual book rather than scrolling on a phone.

I thought it was refreshing—albeit slightly frustrating as I was enjoying the rising action—I didn't have to wait longer than two pages to see a doctor.

Thankfully, I have a couple of trips coming up that warrant the use of my writer's pocketbook. I may even get to finish reading my book.