My previous post [reposted and written in May 2015] on J.R.R. Tolkien’s “The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring” offers a look back at how important this book was to me for my survival so many years ago. Fast forward to April of 2026: I was gifted a Lord of the Rings journal that came straight from Aotearoa, which I have now renamed “The Olórë Book”, a place where everything is magical, but which basically means: The Dream Book. In Tolkien’s Quenya, olor means “dream,” and Olórin was Gandalf’s original name. I would have posted a photo of an entry, but the magic is all mine for right now.

I do have a Commonplace Journal, two project journals, a daily journal, and now my Olórë Book. My Commonplace Journal is a clearinghouse and dedicated reference for information, where I gather book quotes, word clusters, interesting facts, and things I’m learning about the world, including literature, science, technology, writing, art, and study topics. The project journals are specifically for projects I am designing from scratch, because it helps me stack and visualise plans, timelines, and stay organized. My daily journal is internal self-reflection, recapping daily events, and clearing my mind. The Olórë Book is a dedicated space for writing what I have envisioned for the future.

When I started forming the habit of writing daily, it seemed daunting at first, but after a while it just became routine. Consistency is everything, and I decided I had to have a place where my dreams could live, and I didn’t want them only in my head, where they would remain quiet and shapeless. The Olórë Book is essentially a blueprint for what is to come, and in the Olórë, there is only one rule in the house. I will get to this later.

Picture a house [a whole house], and every room is lined with bookshelves, and on those shelves are books. Each book is a portal. But I have to remind you that every Olórë book will look different upon entry; this is simply what mine looks like. How many books are on the shelves? As many as you have dreams. Right now my house is sparse, with a few volumes and a lot of empty shelves, and it will fill as I write. My Olórë is every entry I add, every event, place, and idea, and once it’s written, it becomes a new book on a shelf. Some volumes I’ll rewrite; some I’ll outgrow and close. That is the point of a library.

I spoke about having only one rule, and it’s the only rule that matters: I am the main character in every book I open.

Nothing inside my Olórë is fixed, because it has not happened yet. All of it is mine to draft, revise, and rearrange. A dream that stays in our heads is a story never written. This book will eventually become part of a larger library; it isn’t a gratitude journal, and it’s not a goal list. It’s the house where my future lives.

And if you ever start one of your own, I only ask that you keep the one rule.