Who else out there is terrified that someone will read your journals one day?
|image from denise wymore|
From Anne Lammot's Bird by Bird, about when she was writing food reviews for a magazine:
The whole thing [the first draft] would be so long and incoherent and hideous that for the rest of the day I'd obsess about getting creamed by a car before I could write a decent second draft. I'd worry that people would read what I'd written and believe that the accident had really been a suicide, that I had panicked because my talent was waning and my mind was shot.
And she was writing food reviews! Not even poetry or drippy journal entries! Just articles about how the chicken tasted that night!
This months' goal- to write for about 10 minutes a day- produces a lot of "first draft" stuff. Maybe no second drafts at all. Just writing. About nothing. Like- picture 10 more minutes' worth of this paragraph.
I've written about two sentences about how I am not afraid to get rid of old journals. If they are mortifying, and nothing but dry-heaving comes of reading them, then get rid of them.
So I find myself at an impasse. Should you just write and then get rid of a bunch of stuff that you wrote? Or keep it all- journal entries, stabs and poetry, reflective writings, etc- and just say "the hell with it" when you think about your kids or relatives reading it one day?
I'm serious. Tell me.