Dear Diary

There was an interesting piece in the Globe and Mail this weekend about the demise of diary-writing in this age of Twitter and blogging.

I often talk about letters, and how they are an absolutely lovely medium for communication, but sadly, no one does it anymore. Journals and diaries are along the same lines -- even if they don't provide communication between individuals, they provide an outlet for emotions, experiences and observations that are private as well as a treasure chest of thought. To an extent, blogs offer a similar purpose, but the difference lies in the audience. Blogs are meant to be read by the public, friends and strangers alike. Diaries are for one set of eyes only. I'd say there's less hesitation nowadays to air grievances, fears and hopes publicly, but when you do, it's actually less honest.

In the article, Irving Finkel, curator at the British Museum and passionate diary collector puts it perfectly:

"Yes, there are blogs everywhere, but the blog is orientated toward everybody in the world reading it. Diaries are truthful, never corrupt, because there's no agenda. There's only one person reading."

Despite the popularity of revealing what is supposedly our innermost thoughts, I think people are still fascinated with secrets (or the illusion of secrets). Look at the popularity of Post Secret. Diaries are traditional keepers of secrets. If you can't tell your secret to anyone, you can always trust your diary.

It's a shame that diaries are going the same way as letters and handwriting. I guess as long as there are angst-y teenagers, there will still be a few diaries kicking around. Somehow Anne Frank's Blog doesn't have that same ring as Anne Frank's Diary.