Ten colorful book covers are arranged in two rows of five against a light gray background, each displaying unique titles and designs.

The PEN Ten Year-End Review

This year, we asked 10 authors to tell us what habits they maintain and what items they carry with them when traveling to support their writing practice. From biting into ginger root to playing pick-up basketball games, learn what rituals writers rely on no matter where they are. 

For more about these authors and their books, read their full PEN Ten Interviews here.


A person with short hair, wearing a textured black jacket with pearl buttons and drop earrings, stands outside smiling confidently with hands on hips in warm sunlight.

Olufunke Grace Bankole

Aside from making sure I have access to strong, tasty coffee—either at my destination or in my luggage—the one thing I take with me while traveling that supports my writing practice is openness to possibility. Being away from home, even a short distance, has tended to be transformative: I usually encounter someone or something that shifts or expands my thinking about life, about the world, about my own circumstances. I think stories contain similar movement, so I stay open. And I’ve found that sometimes the stars align and a traveling experience unlocks entry into a story I’ve been trying to tell.


A man with short, wavy, gray hair and a neatly trimmed beard wears a light-colored, open-collar shirt. He looks slightly to the side against a soft, neutral background.

Seán Hewitt

I do my best to take the train as often as possible, even if the journey is longer. I cannot write on planes (not enough room), or on buses or in cars (nausea). Time on planes is wasted writing time, so if I can avoid them, I do. If I was allowed to light scented candles in hotel rooms, I’d bring one of those to help me write, but failing that, a pair of headphones, so I can write in cafes without having to get too distracted.


V.E. Schwab

I travel with my teacup from home which helps me start my days with a sense of normalcy. I try to go for a run no matter where I am so I can ground myself when I sit down. I try to make eye contact with my work even on days when I can’t write new words to keep the narrative door propped open in my head.


A man with short dark hair and glasses smiles with arms crossed, wearing a dark sweater, standing in front of a wall covered with green and yellow leaves.

Nishant Batsha 

I travel so little these days. The day-to-day reality of parenting is one of logistics: trips to the grocery store, shuttling around town for drop offs, finding a way to get all my tasks done before a 2 p.m. pick-up time from school. My children are still young—4 and 6—and require (read: demand) the presence of both parents for bedtime. More stories! More cuddles! To hold a small thing as it drifts to sleep is a special privilege, one that I would loathe to give up. 

Even if I’m traveling for my writing, I design these trips to be as short as possible, so as to minimize the logistical disruption my absence might cause. There’s a particular rushed feeling to receive an email that it’s time to check in for a return flight just as I’ve landed in my destination. 

And despite my lack of travel, I feel like I’m always moving, always at a distance from my desk. But every parent knows that the only way to write and raise children is to be able to hold the writing in abeyance. The physical act of writing only gets a brief moment in a long day, but everything behind the writing keeps going. I keep a thought alive, even if it’s stuffed in the bottom of a backpack next to a pack lunch and a stuffie. 

I like to imagine that I’m always writing, even if I’m not actually writing. The time spent at my desk is a great prelude to a day’s worth of thinking while doing. And so, when I return to my desk, I’m playing catch up with these thoughts, putting to paper what’s been floating in my head for twenty-four hours or more.


A person with long dark hair and red lipstick stands in front of a white, weathered wall covered with green ivy, wearing a white shirt over a black top with white polka dots.

Katie Yee

Writing and reading are two sides of the same coin for me. Whenever I travel, I always bring at least one book—but more likely two or three or seven books, regardless of how long I’ll be gone! Inevitably, I always end up at a bookstore, and I always love to ask booksellers wherever I am what their favorite book to recommend is. During my book tour, I started asking booksellers to write their names inside the covers, along with the name of the bookstore and the date, so I could read my way through my travels when it was all over. You’ll cast a wide net this way, and so far, the books have been incredible! 


Black-and-white portrait of a young man with curly hair, wearing a dark button-up shirt and turtleneck, looking directly at the camera with a serious expression.

Sam Sussman

I look for three things when I travel: the nearest art museum, a pick-up basketball game, and any old friend who might be wherever I’m passing through. I find that all three experiences elevate my experience of the place I’m visiting and support my writing with new ideas, experiences, and stories.

 


A woman with long dark hair in a ponytail, wearing hoop earrings and a striped top, looks at the camera and smiles softly. The photo is in black and white with a blurred background.

Michelle Gurule

I always have my phone or computer with me so I can jot down notes whenever inspiration hits. One of the things I feel incredibly lucky about is being married to a writer, Daisy Atterbury, because we travel the same way and there’s always space carved out for writing. It’s such a natural part of both of us that we don’t really feel like ourselves if we’re not making time for it.

That said, you don’t need a writer-partner to keep your practice alive. If no one is there to help you build that routine, you have to be the one to give it to yourself. Writing on the road is about protecting that time and trusting that even a few notes scribbled between flights or activities can keep your creative energy going.


A young woman with long dark hair and dark lipstick stands against a plain green wall, wearing a sleeveless black top and looking to the side with a thoughtful expression.

Wen Yi-Lee

Observing! I never travel without coming away with some brimming creative thoughts, because getting to see new places always means learning new things and that always means potential new ideas that speak to me. I actively try to notice my surroundings and be curious and porous.

 


A woman with long black hair stands against a textured gray background, wearing a taupe dress, a silver necklace, and hoop earrings. She gazes directly at the camera with a neutral expression.

Kiran Desai

I need books to read, of course, and I don’t read on kindle, so it is always a very difficult choice—to look ahead. I take my noise cancelling headphones, because I always, always, end up staying in a place near a loud building site. Maybe we all always end up near a loud building site. Maybe that is the only certainty of modern life. And I take my diary notebook. I have not been keeping notes this past year or two, and I am terrified by how much material has flown away. So my New Year’s resolution is to go back to daily diary keeping.


A woman with wavy brown hair wearing a red top stands indoors, looking over her shoulder toward the camera with a neutral expression. Soft light highlights her hair, and the background is blurred.

Fátima Vélez

I always travel with a pen, a notebook, and at least three books. I like to write on the blank pages at the back of the books I’m reading; it helps keep my notes alive. Later, I transcribe them into my notebook. Recently, I’ve also started carrying a piece of ginger root with me and biting into it whenever I need to ground myself to sit down and write.