Many of us have kept diaries or journals; some of us have even been faithful about them. More likely, we’ve written sporadically, then left them to get dusty on shelf or under the bed. Perhaps the journals on our computers have entries dated a year or two apart. It’s easy to be enthusiastic about a fresh diary and to then give up when we don’t maintain the ideal of daily deep, fascinating entries.

But this should not stop us from writing when we want and need to. So what if you haven’t written in a year? So what if you look back on that last entry and are not sure what you were quite so upset about? Writing for ourselves is not an exercise in perfection (for that matter, no writing is).

Sometimes you just need to get your feelings and thoughts and ideas and rants out. Perhaps no one is around for you to talk to. Perhaps you don’t think anyone will understand. Perhaps you are afraid of sharing what is really going on in your mind. So put it on paper or on your computer. (I do realize that this makes it “real” in that someone could find it and read it, but there are ways of hiding or password-protecting documents.) So let it out. And don’t worry about grammar, spelling, punctuation—or even what you’re saying or how you’re saying it.

Journals are not the place to make sure that you’re making sense, to ensure that one thought leads logically to the next. They are, instead, a reflection of your mind, of how one thought leads to others in your mind, of the associations you make. That is really what is going on for you, and that is what is important. It’s the truth, or as close as you may come to it right then. You may return to your journal later and use it as a resource for other writing that you present more coherently; many writers do that. And it works because the journal entries are honest.

Not all writing for yourself has to take the shape of journal entries; you can write letters, emails, and more. One recommendation: don’t share your entry or letter or email with anyone right away. If it’s an email, don’t put the address on it; this will prevent you from just hitting send and…well…you can guess the rest. Similarly, don’t print and send a letter right away. If it’s a journal entry that can be uploaded to a blog, don’t upload it!

In all cases, put it away for a while—a day, a week, a month, if you can. Then look at it again and see if you still feel the same way. If so, revise it to say what you want to share with the other person or people in the clearest way, one which this person or people will be able to hear. (In other words, take out all the curses, the insults, the accusations; own your feelings; imagine reading it as that person. And, with journal/blog entries, while some of your blog readers will be supportive, they may also become wary of you.)

Writing is a release. And if you let yourself go, you will discover more of yourself than you thought you might.

Tags: Journaling, Blog, Email, , Revision

My last entry suggested that you put your writing away for a while and then return to revise it. This works not only while in the midst of a project but also long after the project is done. Revisiting old creations can be exciting and, well, creative.

Recently, I looked at poetry, essays, and stories I wrote, some of it up to thirteen years old. A number of pieces had been published, but most had not. I was surprised to find that much of it was still powerful and well written.

Reading it had a two-fold effect: I felt both like going back to some of the old work and revising it, updating it, improving what I thought had been fine before, and like starting fresh. So I’m doing both: the old work remains open on my desktop, and blank documents are filling with new words.

I’m not saying that some of what I read didn’t make me cringe. But even where there was drek, a wonderful phrase lurked. There is new in the old.

Tags: Revision, Publication

When you’re writing, it’s easy to get stuck. So you look back at what you’ve already written to get moving again, jogging yourself to your next word or sentence, example or point. But after a while, you know what you’re going to read, so your eyes tend to skim over the words. You push yourself to focus with little success.

What to do? A useful step is to change how you’re looking at your writing. If you are writing by hand, type it up; if you’re typing, print it out. It seems minor, simple, but it works. It’s amazing how different your writing looks in typewritten form. Shorter, yes, those even fonts tend to shrink most peoples’ writing, but neat, formal, clean, glistening on the screen. And when you print it, it becomes solid.

Tags: Writing, Typing, Printing, Revision