Whenever I have led workshops on journal-writing, especially in church settings, women have always said, “How can I really write what I feel in my journal? I don’t want my grandchildren to know that I did X or felt Y.”

I had two favorite answers: first, if we’re realistic, we know that our posterity will MAYBE thumb through our journals for an hour some rainy Sunday years hence. That hour (and our standing with said posterity) might actually be considerably enlivened if the journals offer a few sentences about our struggle with X or Y.

The other answer included a true story about a mother in eastern Utah whose 16-year old daughter was dating a boy the family seriously opposed. Much anguish, lots of wailing and admonition, and slammed doors were involved. Tension, resentment, threats, the full catastrophe.

One day, Daughter happened to be looking for something in her mother’s attic closet, and came upon a journal Mom had written when she was sixteen. Daughter, angry to begin with, defiantly read some of the journal (which she ordinarily wouldn’t have done without permission). And lo and behold–guess who had been dating a very disreputable boy, much against the parental wishes, all those years ago?

Daughter went downstairs with the open journal in her hand. “Mother? MOTHER!” What followed was embarrassment, some stammering, then a little laughter, then a lot of laughter, followed by the most open conversation the two had ever had.

The history of journal-keeping is marvelously rich, and makes wonderful reading. In the past 30 years or so, a strong current of highly personal, highly exploratory journaling has grown in force, and that was the focus of most of the classes I taught on the subject. A branch of that is journaling as an impetus or source for creative writing, which I would wager is what my esteemed colleague John Bennion promotes.

A separate current would be the important tradition of journal-writing as personal history and testimony. This current has its own protocols, outstanding examples, and patterns. Most of all, it has a different purpose.

Folklore scholarand retired BYU professor Bert Wilson (William A.) kept a faithful journal all through his mission, decades ago. He also wrote a weekly letter to his mother. The comparison of the two records, he tells us, is revealing. Most of us could guess which is the more interesting and readable. But of course each is valuable.

Best wishes as you resolve this matter, Liz!

I probably should have a historical journal “for my posterity,” but I would probably write in that less than I do the journal I have now, so what’s the point?

That’s another problem. I can’t motivate myself to write enough detail that they would actually understand what’s going on. Too much work.

So, good luck with your journal-keeping endeavors. You’re going to have such an awesome time!

Actually, we’re doing a sort of “walking and writing” in England thing, so we start up in Scotland and walk all over literary related places, finally ending up in London for the last few weeks.

The first is just a daily record: very briefly what happened and how I felt. I carry it with me and jot in it on the bus, at lunch, etc. The point is to keep everything preserved as I fall behind on my main journal(s)and need to catch up…but it’s interesting in its own right because it has little reflection, mostly gut reaction.

The second is the Book of Me, a name I cribbed from my sister when I started it at age 8. It is inspiring, heartbreaking, shocking and ridiculous. Some years have only six entries and there are runs of months where I do an entry every day or two. I have read pieces to my wife and will read pieces to my kids, but they are locked away generally.

The third is the Book of the Sublime. I started doing this a few winters ago when I was slipping into depression. It is a (nearly) daily record of what I find that I should be thankful for, or what I find beautiful or even just nice. Yes, that was an element of my Me journal, but it needed drawing out, and now its a great thing to have. It is an open book for my wife, usually indcuing tears.

The fourth is a half-hearted attempt at blogging. I don’t really have time for it, but I need a space to put stuff that I bring up in my classes that kids find funny and interesting, then I can never remember again. Of course, I haven’t really done that yet, but we’ll see…

Good luck with the trip. Are you staying at the BYU house in London? I lived a few blocks away and can give a few tips.

My Journal writing is pretty bad now. I like to think of it as writing my prayers down, but I just don’t pray very well in this way, it seems…

I was never that paranoid nor ambitious; I just kept one journal, which was sort of a cross between an account of what I was doing and self therapy.

My missionary journal was very open about what I did and what I was feeling, and if Richard Dutcher made it into a movie, by Mormon standards it would have to be rated PG-13 at least.