A Somewhat Personal Update

Earlier this week I wrote: I am sitting on a bench in my private space under the arching branches of the New Mexican elder.    On either side of me – a cat.  One, my own Maine Coon giant, and the other, my neighbor’s cat who has decided he wants to live here in this cat and wildlife sanctuary.  I am almost hidden by the blue salvia, which is joyously alive with honeybees and butterflies.  To the north I see the fading yellow blooms of the goldenraintree which stands as a sentinel before the jungle of the creek area.  The east is dominated by my neighbor’s towering cottonwood rustling in the slight breeze.  To the south I can hear the invasive cacophony of traffic.  Behind me to the west, the chickens are purring.  It is in the 90s.  I am in the shade.  All around me I hear bird song and thunder.  The storm is going to miss us.  Today I have been pondering the mysteries of life and death, as diarists enjoy doing.  I have been pondering my own uncertain future.  How much time do I have? What can be done?  Am I totally nuts to open a bookstore again in this age where “the book” is dying?  And more to the purpose of this blog: how can I use the bookstore to advance the National Diary Archive?

My last blog was just before my journal workshop and presentation about the diary archive at the public library on April 10th.   I had to beg for a room.  I was not sponsored by the library so had no advertising through them.  They were focusing on script writing that month.  Envious, I thought it ironic to choose such a difficult genre to encourage more people to write and to ignore a form of writing that absolutely everyone from age 10 to 90+ can do.

This is how that journal workshop turned out: badly.  Oh, I did fine, to be sure.  I was totally prepared with handouts, reference books and websites to suggest, an exhibit of books, and actual diaries from diverse people and times to read from.  I believe it was a quality presentation.  Only three people attended this free two and a half hour intensive workshop.  I went home and gave up.

Before the workshop, I traveled around to the local bookstores to see what they had to offer on journal writing.  I was given the cold shoulder in three of them.  Afterwards, the alternative radio station would not even respond to my inquiry as to whether or not they had announced my free public event.  In spite of Ft. Collins being “one of the best places to live,” it does not appear to be receptive to the idea of journal writing.

What is the cause of this?   I am not antagonistic.  I do not drool.  I am a nice person.    Is it:  a.  I do not know the right people?  b. Do Coloradoans believe keeping a diary is a deviant activity embraced only by the  sociopath?   c. Is no one interested in writing or introspection?  d. Twittering is today’s style.

In March I began 33 days of radiation therapy for a liposarcoma.  By May I was jumping right into work on the farm:  collecting bee swarms, growing a huge garden, mowing lawns, watering, weeding, overseeing the help I had to have this year.  The entire farm is being painted this summer.  (Voila – a red barn.)  Not to mention all the preliminary negotiations on opening a bookstore.  Have I given up on the archive?  No.  Just put it aside for a while.

Here is the current plan:  I am soon to be moving my in-home bookstore of 12,000 books to an actual retail location.  As soon as it is open I will begin regular journal workshops.  I am considering paying a lawyer $750 to create a non-profit organization.    I will search for a volunteer staff and archivists.  I will then solicit donations and attempt to build this organization.  “If you build it [they] will come.”  Do you believe it?

Suggestions?