"Call it a diary--it is less imposing than a journal, which sounds like an end in itself. I steer clear of the word journal--and its spawn, the verb to journal, as in, 'I have been journaling all my life.' If I were to call my notebook a journal I would probably write with the notion that it be published someday, preferably posthumously, and people would marvel. This would make me self-conscious. I would be trying to perfect each sentence before its time. I prefer notes; if I clean it up too fast I lose the spark. Everything goes in: grocery lists, things to do (so I can scratch them off) random observations, knitting patterns, recipes, overheard dialogue, everything. A diary isn't sacred. Think of it as the written equivalent to singing in the shower. I don't care what I'm writing and I don't pay attention to language.. A friend wanted to know what I was working on; she was reading the paper and I was writing in my diary. We were having coffee at Bread Alone.
'Nothing,' I said.
'It can't be nothing,' she said, assuming perhaps that writers were always doing something interesting. She leaned over and read, 'It is taking a long time to get my sandwich.'
Case closed."
— Abigail Thomas