Being a travel writer is like getting paid to go exploring. And writing about the latest breakthroughs in alternative health is like being funded to learn about cacao and drink green tea. But writing about homes and gardens…? Well, frankly, it’s a bit dangerous. The budget really can’t handle those revelations about renovation and repurposing.
All in all, though, what’s life without a little danger.
There are stories everywhere, just waiting for a spotlight. Unexpected off-season surprises on the Outer Cape. Connecticut’s gorgeous version of Long Island Sound. A Rhode Island fixer-upper that takes a tired lump of coal and turns it into a sparkler. Treasure hunting at Brimfield. Unexpected uses for Bag Balm. Or Newport mansion glitz at Christmastime. Plus, a heap of healthy insights on what’s good about fat, enzymes, holiday herbs, and the benefits of pranayama.
When temperatures drop to single digits and I’m stoking the woodstove, putting the final tweaks on a travel story with no thoughts of liberating my car, it’s abundantly clear that this is a pretty good job. Likewise when I’m curbside in Quebec, sampling crepes and debating sweet versus savory, and whether a cafe au lait is up next. Or when it’s a balmy 80 degrees and I’ve got the laptop balanced on one knee down by the river, writing about what’s hot in herbal cold care.
With perks like these, there’s more than enough to keep me curious and writing for a very long time.