Rae Earl, author of My Mad, Fat Teenage Diary, understands why the actor Sheila Hancock would want to destroy her private journals
Sharon Rooney as Rae Earl in E4's dramatisation of the writer's diary. Photograph: Channel 4/PA
As a lifelong hypochondriac, I have had a will since I was seven. Its conditions have changed over the years (I don't think my brother wants my Smurf collection any more), but one codicil has remained unchanged since 1989. In the event of my death from a horrific tropical disease or a burst appendix, my best friend Mort must go to my house and burn all my diaries.
This seems faintly ludicrous now. After all, they are published and there's a TV series based on them. Millions know that I have suffered from various mental health issues, that I rabidly masturbated with pillows and I once pretended I had a cardboard cock by using a toilet roll. I'm fine with all that, though. What I have to be careful of is the feelings of others.
That's why it makes perfect sense to me that Sheila Hancock has already burned her diaries to spare the feelings of her family. Private journals are dangerous and emotionally loaded. They have a bilious authenticity that is impossible to replicate in memory. No one would ever want to remember they thought things that vile. Feelings thrown down in a diary are raw, immediate and uncensored. There is no thought given to anyone but the writer. Blogs cannot compete – they are like a confession with a priest. You may be truthful with Father Blog about your sins, but you wouldn't necessarily let go completely. Diaries are places where you can say what the hell you feel at that moment. With that, temporary feelings gain a dangerous permanence. Madness, sadness and fury at others that probably dissipates the moment after it's scribbled down is committed to paper and built to last.
This seems faintly ludicrous now. After all, they are published and there's a TV series based on them. Millions know that I have suffered from various mental health issues, that I rabidly masturbated with pillows and I once pretended I had a cardboard cock by using a toilet roll. I'm fine with all that, though. What I have to be careful of is the feelings of others.
That's why it makes perfect sense to me that Sheila Hancock has already burned her diaries to spare the feelings of her family. Private journals are dangerous and emotionally loaded. They have a bilious authenticity that is impossible to replicate in memory. No one would ever want to remember they thought things that vile. Feelings thrown down in a diary are raw, immediate and uncensored. There is no thought given to anyone but the writer. Blogs cannot compete – they are like a confession with a priest. You may be truthful with Father Blog about your sins, but you wouldn't necessarily let go completely. Diaries are places where you can say what the hell you feel at that moment. With that, temporary feelings gain a dangerous permanence. Madness, sadness and fury at others that probably dissipates the moment after it's scribbled down is committed to paper and built to last.
Sheila Hancock: the actor has revealed that she has burned her diaries to protect the feelings of others. Photograph: Sophia Evans for the Guardian
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