I’ve started writing a journal. Before you start telling me that girls and people in counseling keep journals, let me explain two things: girls keep diaries; journals are totally different. Also, I was assigned this journal as part of my College Writing class. Don’t misunderstand, though, I’m really excited for it – I just probably wouldn’t have thought of it on my own. Just think of this as part of my overall plot to be more ambitious with my posting. A journal entry, a song of the week, AND some form of other, likely Bible-related post every week. Yes, I mean it, three posts a week, starting this week. I know, I know, it’s a bold and dangerous thing. But I’m a bold and dangerous person. Read on if you dare:
I’ve heard that it’s always best to start things in media res, or in the middle of the action. It must be good advice because it’s written in Latin and if you say it with an air of scholarly wisdom you sound like a genius, and it’s a rule I usually follow, but in this case it just seems wrong. If I’m reading a novel, sure, get me right in on the action! If it’s a news article, of course I want to cut to the chase! But a journal? A journal needs an introduction.
A journal without an introduction is like a man wearing swimming trunks and a dress shirt who walks out of a nearby McDonalds, makes a beeline for you, and spends the next twenty minutes giving you an enthusiastic description of the house he grew up in and explaining exactly why he thinks Flat Stanley is the best book ever written. You would feel awkward. You would have questions for this strange man with the demented wardrobe. What is your name? Where are you from? What do you do? Why should I care what you have to say? And why on earth are you dressed like that? Before you can enjoy his life story, you need to be introduced.
Since I don’t want to come across as the dress shirt and swim trunks type, I thought it would be best to have a proper introduction before you go any further into all of the eccentric clutter that I cleared out of my mind and cataloged semi-neatly in this journal: If you didn’t see it on the front cover, my name is Timothy Newton. I’m a one hundred percent half breed of city girl and country boy (I’ll explain that… eventually) and I love to write, so I’m as excited to write this journal as I hope you are to read it.
If you aren’t excited, that’s okay, I won’t be offended. I’m sure you’ll find something in here that will draw you in or make you laugh or catch you off guard. And even if you don’t maybe, just maybe, it’ll make you think. That’s the real reason I’m writing this journal: I want to give you some good thinking material. I want to see a pensive slant on your brow, a slow, satisfied curve of discovery on your lips and a scrutinizing intensity in your eyes. I want you to exchange blows with a burly question and come out the winner, holding up your new opinion in victory. It probably won’t look just like my opinion, but that’s just fine, because even though neither of ours is perfect, at least we have one.
So have a seat in the corner booth while I go put my swim trunks on, and let’s talk.