Between Two Insomnia Episodes And Cold Tea

Hi, I’m Sarah — wife to Cédric, mother to Rosalie, full-time lover of paper, part-time sleep negotiator, and the woman behind Atelier scriptural Writuals: a home-based business built on theine, intuition, and a lot of notebooks.

Writuals didn’t show up in a Pinterest mood board or a productivity sprint.
It arrived during the postpartum fog.
The actual fog. You know — the kind where time is a soup, your tea is cold again, and your brain is just trying to remember what day it is and where the baby swaddle blanket went.

And yet, somehow, in that glorious, sleep-deprived swirl... the idea made sense.
Because I’ve always thrived in chaos — not by conquering it, but by gently organizing my way through it.

Writuals was my way of putting everything I love — planning, introspection, slowness, beauty, structure, and high-quality paper — into one calm, kind offering. Also: it gave me a reason to label things.

So what is Atelier scriptural Writuals?

Writuals is a tiny, proudly home-based stationery atelier in Montréal.
My “office” is on our mezzanine, shared with my husband on his Zoom days and overrun by toys on the rest. I work during Rosalie’s naps and after her bedtime (hers, not mine — I dream of bedtime), surrounded by paper scraps, empty mugs, and my colour-coded command center of pens, stickers and notebooks.

Here, I design seasonal planners, reflective journals, thematic workbooks, templates, and handmade items like blank booklets, wrapping paper, and seasonal cards. Some are printed by a wonderful local partner. Others are made by hand.

It’s chaotic. It’s tender. It’s very organized. It’s all mine.

What I believe in:

I believe planning can feel like poetry.
That structure doesn’t need to be rigid.
That checklists can include “cry a little” or “find a good blanket to hide under.”
I believe in soft landings. In tools that make you feel a little more like yourself.
And in writing things down even if you definitely won’t remember where you put the notebook.

My pace?

I follow a different kind of calendar. Mine has room for rest.

 Spring is for dreaming
 Summer is for making
 Fall is for sharing
 Winter is for drinking hot cocoa and quietly plotting what’s next

Some tools — like planners, journals, and workbooks — have a rhythm. They’re released when they’re most needed, on purpose, with intention.

Other creations — handmade cards, blank booklets, gift wraps... — arrive when the mood strikes. Think: surprise drops, seasonal whimsy, limited editions. No pressure. No algorithms. Just good paper.

I'm not trying to grow fast.  I'm trying to grow well. Deeply. Honestly. With care.

Who’s behind this?

Just me. I’m the one designing, formatting, packing, copywriting, trimming paper, changing diapers while listening to lo-fi beats, and narrating every step like I’m on a cooking show for tired mothers who love stationery.

But I don’t do it alone. Writuals is held up by good people: Cédric, my parents, my family-in-law, and a village of friends who believe in beautiful things made slowly. They keep an eye on Rosalie and listen patiently while I rant about envelope texture, way too often.

It's a one-woman show with a lit crew of back dancers.

What do I hope?

That something I’ve made helps you feel more grounded.
More yourself.
Less like you’re chasing the day, and more like you’re dancing with it.

That one page, one list, one tiny ritual at a time… you come home to yourself.

And if you ever think, “I wish something like this existed,” send me a note.
That’s how Writuals was born — and that’s how it’ll grow.

With warmth (and too many pens),

Sarah B.
Founder, Atelier scriptural Writuals