Rain is only half the problem. The real enemy of the outdoor sketcher in Britain is humidity — the slow, ambient damp of a drizzly afternoon, a sea fret rolling in off the coast, the condensation inside a rucksack left in a car boot. Paper is hygroscopic: it takes on moisture from the air around it. When that happens, watercolour paper cockles, pencil lines bloom and soften, and a book carried in a coat pocket for a month begins to smell faintly of cellar.
Add wind, which turns a light shower into something horizontal, and cold hands that fumble with wet closures, and you have conditions most sketchbooks were never designed for. The good news is that a handful of choices — paper weight, binding, cover material — make an enormous difference.
The number on the cover is grams per square metre (gsm), and it tells you roughly how much abuse the paper will take.
If your budget stretches to 100% cotton paper, take it. Cotton rag survives rewetting, dries flatter and does not yellow the way wood-pulp papers can. Avoid heavily coated or very smooth papers outdoors — rain spots sit on the surface and dry as visible rings.
Where the water gets in matters as much as what it finds when it arrives.
Look for an elastic closure or wrap band. It keeps pages compressed, which helps the book dry flat and stops rain slipping between the sheets. A waxed cotton, oilcloth or coated board cover will not make a book waterproof, but it sheds drizzle long enough to get you home. Rounded cover corners last far better in a pocket than sharp ones, which fur up within a week.
Bigger is not better outdoors. Wind turns a large sheet into a sail, and a heavy book stays at home.
Many outdoor sketchers keep two: a small, tough pocket book for snatched drawings in the rain, and a larger one for dry days and deliberate sessions. Thinner books have an advantage too — you finish them faster, so fewer pages are exposed to the worst of the weather.
A good sketchbook still needs a bit of help.
If the book does get soaked, resist the radiator. Fan the pages open, stand it on its end somewhere airy and let it dry slowly, then press it under a couple of heavy books to flatten it. Heat cockles the paper and softens the adhesive in the spine.
Before committing a new sketchbook to a winter, try three quick things. Put a single drop of water on an inside corner and watch how fast it spreads — if it sinks in instantly, the paper is unsized and will cockle badly. Flex the spine gently; a book that creaks and gaps at the hinge will not last a season. And check the closure, because a book that springs open in your bag is a book full of grit and rain.
Finally, accept that some damage is inevitable. A slightly wavy page and a soft grey edge where the rain caught it are part of the record. The drawings you make in poor weather are often the ones you remember, and a sketchbook that has clearly been outdoors is doing its job.