Hello, out there!

When I was small, keeping a journal or a diary was Top Secret Business.   All my friends and I had a small books complete with fake leather covers and keys to lock them up.  On the lined pages we wrote how angry we were at our sisters, which boys we thought were cute or annoying (or both), and who our best friend was that week.  The idea was to bear witness to your deepest truth, to bare your secret heart.

For me, though, the facts of my life, set down on paper, proved to be dissatisfying.  I loved the thrill and rush of writing, but afterwards, reading over the day’s entry, I’d find it kind of…boring.  I started tinkering with my entries, making them more…interesting.  Though it would be years and years till I thought of myself as a writer, I guess I always felt reality could use a boost.  Now, when I write fiction, I start with the facts but go after something wider and deeper.  A good question for any story writer to ask herself as she scrutinizes her world and transforms it is, Is it true yet?  

But back to diaries and journals.  The one I’m writing now isn’t, of course, just for me, though it gives me great pleasure to keep it.  In the last week I’ve had a librarian at a school I’m about to visit (hello, HB!) and a dear friend I rarely see (hello, Nicki!) both tell me that they read it often.  That made me so happy!  Sending words out into cyberspace can be today’s equivalent of the message in the bottle– you’re never sure what, if any shore, they land on.  It’s very good to know you’re out there, sharing this.  And you didn’t even have to pick a lock with a bobby pin!

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