Alaska #3: Journaling
July 16, 2007
This’ll probably be the last post on the Alaska trip. Something people ask me a lot: do I write while I’m traveling? Yes, I do. In fact, I’ve gotten terribly superstitious about writing every day. Lots of writers talk about how important it is to write every day, and all those arguments about the practice and consistency are good. But for me, it’s simply that good things happen when I write every day. Not even necessarily having to do with the writing.
The thing is, when I travel, I rarely work on anything productive. I don’t work on the latest novel, I don’t write short stories. My attention span is too fried. So I keep a journal about the trip. I’m a big fan of journaling. Not only does it help me remember the trip, but it’s good practice for doing things like writing descriptions. When I get to a part in a story where I want to describe a mountain or a street cafe, it’s a little easier because I’ve already done it. Journaling trains you to pay attention to details, to remember those details, and record them in an interesting way.
No writing is ever wasted writing, in my mind.
On this trip, I filled about 35 pages of a 5 by 7 inch notebook. Most of it was about the trip, some of it was story ideas and notes. Here’s an excerpt:
Kenai Fjords, 6/17/07
The Kenai Fjords cruise was today. Low clouds all day. I had to keep reminding myself about the huge snow capped peaks in the background. And it was cold and breezy — I could have used another layer. But I did okay.
Spose I ought to write more, but it’s actually getting dark outside, which should tell you something [note: sunset came around midnight]. As usual, the things I saw and most noted are what you don’t see on the TV specials: the way the water approaching the glacier is filled with ice, like plowing through a frozen margarita. The way a piece of the glacier falling in sounds like thunder when it hits the water — and there’s a tiny bit of a time delay between the sound and sight. How blue but dirty it was. How green the hills surrounding it are. The sight of a black bear scurrying up that very steep green hill. The way the sun was just visible at the very back of the glacier, so I knew this pervasive layer of cloud was quite thin — how frustrating!
Too many birds, too many different ones to tell, but I think I’m getting better, and I learned to spot a few. This would be a reason to learn to sea kayak, so I could get closer.
