Use Journaling to Spark Your Writing
When my mother gave me my first journal when I was ten, I had no idea that this seemingly benign gesture would lead to a lifelong passion for writing. The blank notebook had quotations from the mystic poet and painter Kahlil Gibran imprinted on the top of each page, designed as inspirational sparks for the budding writer.
The journal was a gift to help me cope with the tragic death of my grandmother, who until that time had been my caretaker. My mother knew that journaling had helped my grandmother navigate through difficult times and so she thought it could be useful for me, too. That early gift and the subsequent days I spent writing in my walk-in closet helped shape my love for journaling, a passion I’ve carried into adulthood.
While studying creative nonfiction during graduate school, I stumbled upon the diaries of writer Anaïs Nin, who also began journaling at a time of loss—about the time her father left the family for another woman. Nin was only twelve, and her first journal entry was a letter to her estranged father. After filling the pages of my own journals and reading Nin’s, I discovered the value of the journal as both a literary work in and of itself, and as a seeding ground for future works.
Today, in the writing classes I teach, I stress the importance of journal keeping as a powerful tool for creative expression and self-healing, and a way to help solidify thoughts in both one’s personal and literary life. A journal can be a veritable treasure chest of thoughts and anecdotes. It is not only a place to collect ideas, though, but a place to practice writing and overcome writer’s block.
My first book, Getting Pregnant and Staying Pregnant: Overcoming Infertility and High-Risk Pregnancy, began as a journal chronicling my eight months of bed rest while carrying my first daughter. Back in the 1980s, I didn’t think anyone would be interested in reading a day-by-day account of my experience, despite the insights I could provide, yet, coupled with practical information gleaned from my nursing background, a self-help book evolved. Here’s one of my journal excerpts that later became part of the book’s introduction:
Finally, at thirty-two weeks, approximately four weeks short of what is known as the term of pregnancy, I gave birth by cesarean to a beautiful 4 ½-pound girl. Although she didn’t cry at birth and was completely blue, it was the happiest moment of my life. Her first few moments of oxygen support were enough to give her the strength to carry on a life of her own.
In my recent memoir, Regina’s Closet: Finding My Grandmother’s Secret Journal, I used journal entries I had written years earlier as I was coming to grips with the loss of my grandmother. Writing about this painful event was cathartic, and the journal entries became the foundation for the memoir’s first few chapters. In the book’s final draft, I included one of the passages from my journal where I discuss my grandmother’s death scene: “Soon I spotted two paramedics grasping both ends of the stretcher my grandmother was strapped to. With quick and urgent steps, they transported her down the steep stairs leading to the front door. I wondered what would happen if they slipped and Grandma went flying.” In addition to books, my own journaling has led to a number of published articles, including “Lucknow Woman,” an award-winning essay pulled from a part of my journal where I wrote volumes about coping with breast cancer.
As a writer, you ought to keep—and carry—a notebook for several reasons, says fiction writer John Dufresne. “A notebook is a reminder that you’re a writer and that what you’re currently doing while you’re out of the house, away from the desk, is taking notes toward your next novel [or book]. You know that you think differently when you have a pen in your hand. You think differently and you observe differently. You see what’s really there, not what’s supposed to be there. You keep a notebook to teach yourself to pay attention. You keep a notebook to encourage yourself to crest. You keep a notebook to serve notice to the world—Writer at Work!” (Dufresne’s comments and those of other writers in this article were sent to me as part of a book I am editing about journaling.)
I suggest the following tips to all writers, either beginning or advanced:
Start with the Proper Tools
This includes a good notebook and pen. Choose a notebook or journal that inspires you to crack it open. It should have a cover that appeals to you and feels good in your hands. It should lie flat so you’re not battling with the binding. Some writers carry a smaller journal in their purse or pocket and a larger one in their office or car. “The notebook should be small,” says poet Kim Stafford, whose latest collection is A Thousand Friends of Rain: “Shirt-pocket size. The size of the palm.” In this regard, he goes on to say, “One definition of poetry: Any utterance that sings in short space.”
Kyoko Mori, a poet, novelist, and nonfiction writer, believes the ideal journal notebook is “a ‘blank book’ with a pretty cover: marbled paper, art deco designs, stenciled stars or flowers.” A blank book, she says, “is smaller than the speckled composition book and easier to carry around.”
These days, some writers are taking to the computer for journaling. “The pocket notebook is for the hint, the computer for the deluge,” Stafford observes. “The notebook is for the first move in what may be an interlocking sequence of poetic lines—a fragment with rhythm, voice, and atmosphere whispering in my ear. The computer is for the encyclopedic mass of resonant data impinging deliciously on the mind.”
Experiment to see which type of journal works best for you. Your choice may also depend upon your mood. One day you might prefer a leather-bound lined journal, while another day a woven exterior with an unlined, recycled interior may feel right.
Your pen should be comfortable in your hand and the ink should flow smoothly. Most writers are quite particular about their pens. I prefer gel pens, and for some reason, my creative juices flow best with purple ink. Experiment with different types of pens. “I use a blue Pilot Vball Extra Fine pen that has a see-through barrel—the ink inside sloshes up and down, making tiny bubbles,” Mori says. “I’ve given up on fountain pens because they scratch, leak and smear.”
Make Journaling a Habit
Try to write at the same time each day and be sure to date your entries. Choose a time when you’re at peace with yourself, whether it’s first thing in the morning or at night before retiring. Anaïs Nin wrote in her diary at night. Virginia Woolf liked to write following her afternoon tea. Some writers enjoy burning a candle while journaling—for them it inspires and sparks a creative mood. I suggest you find “a room of your own,” à la Woolf, whether real or imaginary. It should be a place where you want to go, preferably not your desk, which can be too distracting. A good choice might be an easy chair or a coffee shop. It should be a place that relaxes you while sparking your creativity. Keep your journal in a spot where you’ll see it every day and can’t avoid it.
Put the Inner Editor and Critic Aside and Let Down Your Guard
In the world of journaling, spelling, grammar, and neatness do not matter. Fight the impulse to edit. Try not to erase or tear out any pages of your journal, even if an entry seems silly or trivial. You never know when the information might be useful later.
Allow your guts to spill out. Write openly. Brag, exaggerate, be happy or sad, and be honest. The journal is a place where you can shed the mask you wear during the course of your day. You’ll see that in time, your natural, authentic voice will emerge on the pages of your journal—a voice free from societal restrictions and inhibitions.
Allow your thoughts to fall from your subconscious. “I’ve used my journal more self-consciously, as a kind of writer’s sketchbook, a place to try out ideas,” says Robin Hemley, director of the nonfiction-writing program at the University of Iowa. “So besides overheard dialogue, I have included in my journals plot outlines, story ideas, character sketches, anecdotes that have been told to me, dreams, images, diarylike episodes—the occasional grocery list.”
Some writers, including me, write first drafts of essays, stories, or poems in their journals. For me, it’s the only way to get completely in touch with my words and feelings. It’s good to have a record of one’s initial inclinations, thoughts, and inspirations, regardless of whether they end up in finished works. Anaïs Nin used long passages of her diary in her fiction. In volume four of her journals, she discusses how the two merged at a time when she came to an impasse in her fiction writing. You may find that you do some of your best writing in your journal.
Write Letters in Your Journal
Write to your characters, friends, loved ones—dead or alive. A mother may write a letter to her unborn child. A son might write a letter to his mother. A woman may write a letter to a friend to try to solve a disagreement. Letters allow a deep expression of emotions. You might write something in a letter that you can’t express verbally. You may even decide to send the letter, but if you don’t, that’s okay, too. “People frequently write letters in their journal to those who have emotional significance in their lives,” Tristine Rainer says in her book The New Diary. “Just as a diary doesn’t have to be a record of activities, a letter doesn’t have to be a report of the weather and the news since you last wrote. It can be an exploration of whatever a particular person evokes when you think of them.”
Organize Your Journal
This task is of particular use to writers, to facilitate future access. There are a number of ways to organize your journal. I usually divide mine into three main sections. The first is designated for random thoughts, observations, snippets of conversations, comments. The second is dedicated to quotations that inspire me. The third section is for my poems, either in their entirety or in the raw form of images, phrases, and lines. I reserve the last few pages of the journal for a running list of books I’d like to read. If you don’t want to be bothered with sections, try color-coding, with pens or a highlighter, after the journal is completed. For example, you can use purple for reflections, green for quotations, red for possible story ideas, and yellow for notes from workshops or conferences.
You may also decide to keep individual subject journals to make re-reading easier. Some types of journals include:
A personal-growth journal, where the writer works out difficult situations.
A crisis journal, in which a crisis is used as a catalyst for writing. Use it during tumultuous times, or when life takes an unexpected turn or is in flux, and it can help anchor you.
A therapeutic journal, which is similar to a crisis journal except that it tends to be in diary format, chronicling day-to-day events.
A gratitude journal, which is a place to record what you are thankful for in life. This type of journal nurtures a positive outlook and is a good thing to have when you’re feeling down.
A smile journal, which consists of things and events that make you laugh. (Keep in mind that humor heals.)
A travel journal, which is a place to chronicle journeys and trips, and include impressions and reflections.
A dream journal, which is typically kept at the bedside and written in first thing in the morning, even before a writer gets out of bed, as a way to tap into the subconscious mind.
A transition or transformation journal, which is used during transitional periods such as divorce or relocation.
Reread and Use Journal Entries for Future Works
After a time lapse, it’s interesting to go back and reread your journal entries. You’ll encounter memories, facts, questions, and reflections that might serve as a spark for a new writing project. You’ll also detect patterns in your writing style and subject matter, and may be surprised by obsessions you repeatedly write about.
How you use your entries in writing depends on your genre. Many poets, it seems, carry journals to jot down snippets of images and phrases. Poet Denise Duhamel told me she sometimes lifts entire prose poems from her journals, in the same way poet James Wright was known to do.
Mori used her travel journal entries from Japan to write her wellreceived memoir The Dream of Water, in which she attempts to come to terms in her native land with the memory of her mother’s suicide and the family she left behind thirteen years before. “Without my journal,” she confesses, “I wouldn’t have remembered enough details to reconstruct the scenes I put in the book…. During the trip, I’d jotted down reminders like ‘4 P.M. Meet Miya [friend] in Kobe,’ in my pocket calendar. The calendar helped me keep track of the sequence of events, but the brief notations wouldn’t have made much sense without the journal, which described the green dress Miya was wearing when I spotted her at the train station, the iced coffee we drank at the café in the underground shopping center, the eighth-grade skit we remembered together.
Every time I opened the notebook, it was like stepping into the recent past of my trip and the further back past of my childhood. This double stepping back became essential to my conception of the memoir.”
Many poets keep journals because it’s an ideal place to jot images or thoughts that might later turn into a poem. Poet Mark Pawlak says his notebook, “besides being a connection to my interior self and a way of perceiving the world, was a place for me to work out my ideas about poetry, and a place to chart the evolution of my own work and where it was heading.” Some poets, Pawlak and myself included, use the journal to flesh out their own poetics by jotting down lines, poems, or complete thoughts of other writers and poets. Pawlak, for example, found himself inspired by Thoreau’s journals and was inspired to mine the material from his own notebooks and organize it after Thoreau’s example. “This approach led me to write several essays on poetry, on editing, on class, and on ethnicity,” he says.
Read the Journals of Published Writers
This is not only a way to get inside their heads, but a chance for us to hear their raw and unedited voices. A journal is the voice of our true emotions and often includes stream-of-consciousness writing that speaks directly from the heart. Besides devouring Anaïs Nin’s journals in graduate school, I read the journals of other well-known writers, including John Cheever, Gustave Flaubert, May Sarton, and Virginia Woolf.
There are as many ways to journal and use journal entries as there are ways to write. The important thing to remember is that there is no wrong way to journal. You are writing for yourself. Have fun and remember: What you write is for your eyes only. This might be the only writing genre where you won’t receive one rejection slip!