Joan Didion said it best in her collection of essays, Slouching Towards Bethlehem:
At no point have I ever been able successfully to keep a diary; my approach to daily life ranges from the grossly negligent to the merely absent, and on those few occasions when I have tried dutifully to record a day’s events, boredom has so overcome me that the results are mysterious at best …
I’ve tried numerous times over the years to keep a journal or diary and each time failed miserably.
In fact, I admire greatly those who can. The ability to write something that is factually representative without drowning in self-absorption is true art.
Possibly I lack the necessary stamina or regimen to continue on a daily basis.
Equally likely is that I don’t consider my life in any way interesting enough to record.
Granted, it makes accurately remembering specific dates and events tricky, but that’s the way I like it.
Hats off to the diarists/journalers out there – I fear I will never truly join your ranks.
