People still give me funny looks when I tell them that I keep a journal. Perhaps they find the practice strangely old-fashioned or shifty. True, I feel furtive when my wife sees me writing the letter at our kitchen table. It's like being spotted in a confessional box at church. What do I have to say about this dark book that describes a life we share every day? What secrets could I be keeping?
Answer: Nothing of any great note. Yet, so much of my life can be found in it. When I was on vacation, I began to write a journal. I made the decision to become a full-time entrepreneur twenty years ago and have kept it up more or less daily since. What is the reason? It started as an experiment, but it became an obligation. It is impossible to stop time but it is possible to preserve the past. Recording things as they occur can sometimes feel trivial (a stray comment, a song, moments of delight, or doom and gloom), but they might prove to be useful, instructive, or amusing later. You also have the illusion that you are not just wasting your days. Writing is a good exercise in the diary, just like a pianist practicing scales or a footballer doing keepy-uppies. Like everyone else, I found myself locked into repetitive routines that were numbing and left me with little material to write about. Although it wasn't exactly Pepysian, I found a way to discuss the box sets and books I was involved in.
This begs the question: Who are you writing for? It's you. Writing diaries is the most private form literary creation, as you are both the writer and (for now at least) the only reader. This has many benefits. First, it is good for your mental health. In an age of excessive scrutiny, the diary acts as a safety valve. I must admit that I have not used social media in the past and don't own a smartphone. (I know, I know.) It is better to keep your thoughts private and not be shared with the world. You won't be trolled or banned if you only write what you want. Is there anything more pathetic than the line "They later deleted the tweet."
Even the greatest have used their journals as psychological props. James Boswell was often prone to low spirits and insecurity. He would write in his journal in second person, as though he were his mentor. He wrote this September 1763 while studying law in Utrecht as a young man. Do not rush to find a music master and ask Count Nassau for information about concerts. Keep it simple, be calm, and enjoy your wine.
The entries were immediate, which added flavour to the book I was writing
The second has more to do the existential curiosity. A diary-writing record gives you a long view of your life, not just what you did but who you are. Reading diaries from the past is like charting the evolution of our self, Penelope Lively says. Sometimes, I find a diary entry from years back and wonder, with genuine surprise, if I wrote it. It wouldn't be in my handwriting, I'd doubt it. While we evolve, we shed our old selves, acquire new ones, but a core of us remains, a cast mind. Memories will make us forget about our past and blur the nuances. A diary, although not perfect, can at most claim that I was there at the moment.
The diary can also be used as an aide-mémoire for your work. History covers the vast sweep of decades and years. Biography focuses on the details of each character and incident. These jobs are done in diaries, which may not be intended. Later, material from the diaries could be extracted. Mine records some seismic events, but other than the occasional pandemic or election result, there is not much history going on. I feel for Louis XVI, who returned from hunting the day after the Bastille fell. He also wrote in his diary Rien.
My diary contains a lot of music and lots of gossip, some of which is not believable. As I found out while rereading the lockdown edition, there is also a lot about football, especially Liverpool FC, which I support. This was a huge help when I decided to write a book about Jrgen Klopp, our manager who arrived nearly six years ago at the club and led us to glory. This is what I wrote on October 8, 2015.
I have been looking at the BBC Sport website for news all week and when it finally arrives, I yell with excitement: Jrgen Klopp is now manager of Liverpool. It's a great news! I love the way he cuts his jib. He is a true inspiration to those who play for him. Jrgen, may your reign be long and happy at Anfield. Herzlich willkommen in der Bootstube.
This is not fine writing as you'll see, but it doesn't matter here. These entries about Klopp were full of spontaneity and immediacy, which I thought would add a new flavor to the book I was working on. Klopp was not a biography. It would be a memoir about being a Liverpool fan, a meditation on Liverpool and a somewhat embarrassing love letter to someone I had never met. Did I remember the dream I had the next night, in which Klopp was playing for me? My diary had. Klopp noticed that I was wearing a cashmere sweater for a training session, and he said, Nice.
He gave his first press conference today as LFC manager. He was funny, mischievous and smart and charismatic. He said that he was the Normal One and the press laughed. Please, let him be the club's savior. We've waited too long for one, God knows.
The classic Dear Diary moment would probably be to meet the man. It's not something I can imagine happening. But, he has better things to do than returning the club to its winning ways.
It provides peace of mind, and allows you to organize your thoughts.
Every diarist has a question about posterity. Is publication your goal? This is a tricky question. I doubt any writer would be able to dismiss the possibility of their diary being published on a day when they are no longer with us. A living writer publishing their diaries is a sign of bad faith. It sacrifices the essential combination of intimacy, freedom and authenticity that makes them stand out. It's impossible to be honest.
There are exceptions. There are exceptions. They are gossipy, erudite and indiscreet, but not as much as his busy gay life. Agate had high hopes: I would love to see them 100 years from now, along with Evelyn Ego and Pepys. It might live, or it may die. It would be great if it did. Agate's name is almost forgotten outside of theatrical circles. The diaries have been out-of-print for many years.
The serious contemplation about the future's indifference towards us is like gazing at a sun: it wont last long. Many writers realize they are in a race for obscurity. A diary can be a blessing. It will give you peace of thought and help you organize your thoughts. Although I don't love Virginia Woolf as an author, she is one of my favorite diarists.
Here she is, 17 November 1934. A note: I am despairing at the book's badness: I can't imagine how I could ever write this stuff with such excitement. That was yesterday; today, I believe it is good again. This is a note to advise Virginians with other books: Up down, up and Lord knows what the truth. Through the years, the intense feeling and the skittish punctuation have become a unique voice that reveals the universal. A diary is a tool that consoles, charms and invigorates. It keeps you going while all else fades.
Klopp: My Liverpool Romance by Anthony Quinn published by Faber for 8.99 It's available at guardianbookshop.com for 7.64
