(www.inkthinkerblog.com) — I started journaling at the age of 10 thanks to my fifth-grade teacher, Mrs. Shotwell. Everyone was required to journal for something like 20 minutes every day, but I quickly started sneaking my journal home for extra time.
Recording my life became a cherished habit, and I’ve recently started re-reading my journals from middle school and high school. Although the entries are alternately hilarious and poignant, few of them are actually about the practice of writing with the exception of brief remarks here and there about the progress of my novel (which, incidentally, I have never finished and need to revisit, because it actually didn’t totally suck!).
This particular entry and its continuation the following day struck me as particularly appropriate to share with my writing friends.
Monday, August 5, 1996
Dear Me of the Future,*
I think when I die, I will leave specific instructions as to which journal entries I absolutely do NOT want published. Just in case, I mean.
Tuesday, August 6, 1996
Dear Future Me,
…Anyway, supposing that my journal is publsihed for any reason, there are definitely more than a few things I do not want the public to see:
- My list of reasons to hate R.D. (5th Grade)
- A few of my assorted crushes (meaning nearly all)
- When I got my period
- My brief period of R.L. love letters**
- And anything else I can think of.
I just had a thought (gasp!). What if I were to go back through my journals, starting w/ 5th grade, and pick out assorted entries to compile into a short book. I would fictionalize each and change it around enough to keep others from noticing the similarities, add a few space fillers, and create a story about a girl who is growing up, or trying to, anyway, based upon my experiences. I’ll let you know more as my idea develops, ‘kay?
Okay, I luv voo, bye-bye,
Kristen E. Skove***
* Several entries back, I had written this: “Dear Me of the Future (not Journal, but me of the future since I’ll be looking back on this and laughing hysterically).” How right I was.
** A few months earlier, I had sent a series of anonymous love letters to this boy my friend-who-I-was-in-a-fight-with had a crush on, writing them as though I was her!
*** I signed my name three different times in fancy, swirly script and drew little cat faces and tails on the E and K.
In a later post that I can’t locate at the moment, I said something along the lines of, “I thought about describing my idea to a prominent author and asking them to write it, but then I thought, ‘Why not write it myself?'” once I had outlined my novel idea. Heh.
When did you start writing?
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