Author’s Note: This was inspired by a visit to an antique book fair (which turned out to be rather disappointing, but that’s for another post) where I came across a few journals and old ledgers. This set was from the 1950’s and it made me think about how I’d feel if my life was reduced to being sold to a random book collector who had no connection to me or my past.
she committed her
life to
ink-pained pages;
did the transformation of the
everyday
into the
eternal
change her? what happened
after the last
hardcover gate closed
on the world
within?
would she have written had she known
that being fondled by
strangers
who were looking for the
truth in a sordid
seller’s note
was the price her fate would pay
for committing grief to
posterity?
set of ten
journals – good condition – $225
she seemed miserable
much of the time – I think she was
an alcoholic
Jen's Rambling Thoughts... 
I loved this, not the idea of the strangers reading the diary, but the way you so beautifully expressed the story. “being fondled by strangers” oh very nice.
Thanks. It made me think of what I want to have happen to my journals when I pass on….how sad to have your life, warts and all put on display to a bunch of strangers at a book fair…
This is very thought-provoking (especially because I do a lot of archival research in my day job, and read lots of old letters, journals, etc.). Some beautiful language here, too–“looking for the/truth in a sordid/seller’s note” is one of my favorites.