I'm on page 388 (out of 1,048) of Isherwood's Diaries, Vol. 1 1939–1960. First sentence of the intro:
"Christopher Isherwood wrote in his diary several times a week almost continuously for about sixty years––from the early 1920s (his teens) until July 1983, a month before his seventy-ninth birthday."
He saved his diaries, and in later years edited them, so I suppose he thought they'd be published one day.
At any rate, they are written for a reader. Perhaps that was just his orientation: writing is for reading.
We who blog regularly for years are in his company, if not his class.
I started reading my blog from the beginning last night.
I really don't know what I think of it!
I might wish I'd written a little more about daily goings-on? as well as writing about Star Trek (I'm in 2009--heavy on Star Trek. Not that I'm not enjoying that.)
Do I want to do that now?
Now, this Sunday morning, I'm going out for coffee with bink. We were going to go to the farmers market, but it's raining, which is good because we've been in a drought, and I like knowing the garden is getting a good soak.
