“…I feel like I’m comin’ in at the end of something.” We’ve been vacationing for several weeks, and I have done no writing at all. I have, however, done a lot of reading, and visited numerous bookshops and libraries in the state of Washington and in British Columbia—the far upper corner of our country and the lower corner of Canada, what has seemed like approximately as far away as possible from my own usual haunts while still being in North America. One of the joys of vacation is allowing myself to swallow books virtually whole. Or maybe I am swallowed by them—I escape into their worlds. Apparently I even get a particular look on my face—at one point last week I was stirring pasta over my camp stove with one hand and holding my book with the other as I read, and my husband burst into laughter at a single glance my way. As I write, I am flying back across the country, thinking about the trip and about my many literary adventures. Andrea Barrett ’s stories of scientists an...
A blog about travel and staying put, reading and writing, food and food for thought.