She drinks pints of coffee and writes little observations and ideas for stories with her best fountain pen on the linen-white pages of expensive notebooks. Sometimes, when it's going badly, she wonders if what she believes to be a love of the written word is really just a fetish for stationery. The true writer, the born writer, will scribble words on scraps of litter, the back of bus tickets, on the wall of a cell. Emma is lost on anything less than 120gsm.

One Day/ David Nicholls

Edit: An impulse buy, I didn't expect it to like it so much. Finished it in a day (today, aided by the fact that it was raining and, after a long break, I finally found myself back in a reading phase, which is good, because I have stacks to go through). The end was a punch in the gut, leaving a dull, lingering ache like how Atonement did. But it was necessary, I suppose. The way everything comes to an end.