OK, I'm good at faking journals. Sort of. I don't know why. I mean, I don't intend to start it out that way for any purpose. Yet it becomes character driven and well, its a fun way to get to know characters. And I have an inking I have hurt many readers feelings in doing so, thinking it was real. For the most part it is creative nonficiton. Its just looking at stories from your own life through someone elses eyes that you write as if you were them. It can be even insightful even in to your own.
Lets say, you're female..well, write in first person as if you are a male. If that can't be done, think how your pet might think. A baby might feel. It might surprise you what you find.
I've always enjoyed reading other people's journals. Especially, historical ones like Happy as a big Sunflower and Mollie which really gives one insight of how life really was right after the civil war. People had time to write back then perhaps not for complete pleasure since most couldn't afford paper, but journals were used for weather, planting, when Bessy had her calf. Mundane things.
Now we need journals as a self diagnosis of our lives, our romances, our weight, the food we eat. A book still comes in handy to jot down moments of joy and sadness.
Which brings me to the most far out journal I ever came across. A guy's journal of how many times a week he had sex with his different girlfriends. He was thorough in his adventures. I'm not sure if it was the science of it, or perhaps the pleasure of knowing just how many he did, when and where. And of course, the plans. How much to spend on her. What he expected to accomplish.
Did I ever give it back to him? Well, no. He never put his last name, anywhere. And I had found it in the middle of some parking lot.
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