Virginia Woolf, Diaries, and London Literary Pub Crawling

My most far flung writing trip is nearly upon me; excitement and a willful intent to learn and write something wonderful increases in daily increments. As does my fear and sense of inability. On a Saturday evening in London, quite soon, Virginia Woolf will be guiding me through streets and pubs of literary note.  An actress portraying Virginia Woolf, of course.  I'm told Charles Dickens will probably join us.  In preparation I've been boning up on my Woolf:  A Room of One's Own, Mrs. Dalloway, and A Writer's Diary.  I wonder what she would have to say about blogging. 

Here is a nugget from today's reading of A Writer's Diary: "'...Moreover there looms ahead of me the shadow of some kind of form which a diary might attain to.  I might in the course of time learn what it is that one can make of this loose, drifting material of life; finding another use for it than the use I put it to, so much more consciously and scrupulously, in fiction.  What sort of diary should I like mine to be?  Something loose knit and yet not slovenly, so elastic that it will embrace anything, solemn, slight or beautiful that comes into my mind...' Easter Sunday, April 20th, 1919."

Nearly one hundred years ago, and yes, still fresh.  She inspires me to insist I have a room, and the proper equipment, reading material, time, and freedom to write as well as I can.  She relieves a bit of my guilt about taking those things for myself--earning them perhaps--but also taking them.