Monday, April 1, 2013

Seven Thousand Pages

Forty volumes of my personal journal, with Max the Poet Dog. Yesterday—Easter Sunday—I reached seven thousand pages in my personal journal. I am near the end of my fortieth volume.

My first journal entry was on April 20, 1976. I was 18 years old. I have kept it up for 37 years.

Why have I kept it up?

Number 1. I am a writer. Writers write. It's what writers do.

Number 2. We have a choice: expression or depression. I choose expression. Or it keeps choosing me.

Number 3. A journal is a place to practice with few negative consequences.

Number 4. It's history. It is for my children and grandchildren. I hope it will be of value to them someday. Someday.

Though at times I have ripped pages out of my journal, it is mostly an intact record of my adult life. A record of my woes and joys, of trials and triumphs, of miracles, of my ever changing perspective.

Some of it is self-enamored drivel. I know that. But I forgive myself for that.

It is a pathway. It is both a method to relieve my madness and to relive my madness. And happiness. It works. It has been worth the effort.

I only wish I had written more.

P.S. This is not an April Fools joke. 


  1. What an accomplishment! I love meeting or reading about other journal writers. In my small circle of life, I know so few. I am on volume 11 of my own journals and often wonder if it is worth it, but then always come around to similar reasons or conclusions as yours. I just have to. It's who I am. It does relieve and provides moments to relive.
    Thanks for this post and thank you for some inspiration to keep writing.

  2. Thank you, Ann. It is a comfort to know that there are others out there who journal—a lot. It is a valuable habit and exercise. I have always believed there are few skills of more worth to me professionally and personally than the ability to express myself well, and nothing has helped me more with that goal than writing in a journal.

  3. Makes me want to get stuck into journal writing. Also, I like the sentiment that writers write.