"Masturbation, onanism of the most ridiculous and noble kind. . . Literary excretions, the by-product of a mind attempting to reveal itself to itself."

-Victor Salis, excerpt from an unposted, unaddressed letter dated 03/23/49, re. journal writing-


Salis, generally and not unjustly considered something of a crank, is not without his moments of lucidity. The preceding quote is one of them. As a dabbler in the "art" of journal writing and an occasional penner of poetry and prose, I am in sympathy with Salis' assessment of journal keeping and might, in fact, expand his description to include all works of literature. All? Was Shakespeare writing only for himself? Has the latest Stephen King novel been created exclusively for the author's pleasure? Ultimately, no. Fundamentally, yes. Certainly, anything created with an audience in mind is altered in essence by the thought of an audience in the creator's mind. Who will be seeing this? What will they think of it? Such questions shape the artifacts of creative minds without doubt - check out N. Senada's Theory of Obscurity - but I hold that anybody who has ever picked up a pen (or tapped a keyboard) in the effort to create is engaging in what is primarily a solitary activity.

I am alone as I write this but you, unknown reader, are in my thoughts. I am anticipating your eyes upon these words even as they pour from me. It is because of this that I make some effort at intelligibility, form and structure of text. But at the end of all these words, I have written not for you, despite the concessions I have made to the possibility of your presence, but for myself.

So please, whatever future wordy excesses I may indulge in here, know that I am well aware that I am, after all, merely wanking off .