I’ve been reading some odd books about blogging recently. I’m starting to turn my attention towards the question of organised media v ‘citizen journalism’ (incidentally, check out this great CBC (Canadian) Radio Editor’s Choice on citizen journalists, court reporting and more (MP3 download)). One of the ways I’m approaching this is to look at the ‘advice’ given in non-legal sources to wannabe bloggers, podcasters and such. So earlier this week, I found myself in the library with a stack of “Blogging For Dummies”-type books. (Don’t worry, I’m looking at online sources too!)

Anyway, one of the books – I can’t decipher which one – mentioned the Samuel Pepys diary, which I had forgotten about, having seen some publicity when it kicked off, and paid little attention since. (Webaddicts and blogging old-timers, though, will find this story very old news!)

As the ‘about’ page describes, it’s a project which sees a page of Pepys’ famous 17th-century diary of life and times in London published as a ‘blog entry’ each day. Each entry contains crosslinks and annotations. They are four years in at this stage, and still going strong. It’s an 1893 edition (therefore no violation of the Copyright Acts) and perfectly suited to the blog format. Quite subversive, too, when set against those who would see blogging as having magically appeared with no connections to prior media; yes it is different, but it builds upon something(s?), diary-keeping (and publication) included.

Here’s a recent entry, as a taster. Why not add the RSS feed to your bookmarks/reader?

He being gone my wife and I took coach and to Covent Garden, to buy a maske at the French House, Madame Charett’s, for my wife; in the way observing the streete full of coaches at the new play, “The Indian Queene;” which for show, they say, exceeds “Henry the Eighth.” Thence back to Mrs. Turner’s and sat a while with them talking of plays and I know not what, and so called to see Tom, but not at home, though they say he is in a deep consumption, and Mrs. Turner and Dike and they say he will not live two months to an end. So home and to the office, and then to supper and to bed.