The Journal Shelf

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Journals, far too many of them. Who’s ever going to read them? They go back to 1965, skip the lost decade of the 70s, then plough on to the present as I get ever more detailed and obsessive about only Black & Red hardbacks. I buy them in packs of 5, I index each book when I finish so I can see at a glance what events it covers.

Sometimes I do Morning Pages religiously and a book is filled in 3 months, other times it hangs around for ever.

I had this brilliant idea that I would feature ‘The Random Journal’ on this blog. Pick a date, find the nearest journal entry then offer the pearls therein to the world. I tried it, and there’s an awful lot of dross and maundering self obsession.

What’s a journal for?

  • If you’re in the habit of them, a journal is a great comfort – the friend who’s always listening
  • It’s a very selective and partial record of events
  • A way of dialoguing back with books I’m reading
  • A place to put anger and self-pity instead of dumping it on others
  • A place to try out parts of my own writing and reflect on it

 

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