What can’t you write about in your diary?

The other day (and this happens all the time) as I was driving, I thought up a great first line for a story. In fact, it was so great, that I had to write it down before I forgot it, which is usually what happens, and why I write so few good stories. Luckily there was a receipt from buying gas on the passenger seat and the pen that we use to record the gas/mileage in the notebook for that purpose, so I was able to scribble, while the car was in motion, using the centre of the steering wheel as my tablet, “There were things Kirsten could not write about in her diary.” I don’t suggest that you try doing that when you’re driving, it’s not very safe.

But anyway, to get back on topic, there are many things that I can’t write about in this diary, or any blog, for that matter, which is open for the public to read. I have another diary here, which is locked now but wasn’t for a while and in which I have not written for quite some time, which I would use as a place to vent my frustrations and my anger, where I would let out those things that generally stay bottled up inside, things I don’t feel are anyone else’s business, especially strangers’, if you know what I mean. But the great thing about this particular diary is that I wrote it in the third person. I was the star, of course, the protagonist, with a cast of supporting characters, all names having been changed (I would have to keep flipping back because I couldn’t remember from one entry to the next what I had named people) to protect the identities of the people I maligned.

The beauty of it all was that each entry read back like a chapter in a novel, and if Kirsten can’t write about certain things in her diary, there is no reason why I can’t include them in a work of “fiction”. Right? There is no Kirsten. That’s just the first name that popped into my head when I was scribbling that line down on the back of the receipt.

So, I just thought I’d throw that out. Otherwise my life has been excruciatingly dull, consisting of music copying, laundry, cooking and not much else. Maybe tomorrow I’ll go grocery shopping for an exciting change.

Oh, wait, I’m not done yet. That piece of creative writing for which I was researching the correct spelling of “barashway” is posted at Cassandra’s Tears. I deleted the reference entirely, a smart move on my part. I’m rather pleased with how it turned out.

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