literature
Travel literature includes guide books, travel memoirs and the curious experiences that happen when you seek adventure.
The Writer & The Illustrator
Oliver Wendell Winston the Third Oliver Wendell Winston the Third was bored. He lived in a time when children were preferred to be seen and not heard, and it was better when they were not seen as well. His father had clients in the study, which left Oliver alone in the library. There, the dark-haired, freckled-faced boy sat quietly in his chair, surrounded by books.
By Jessica Clarke5 years ago in Wander
The Coffee Shop
I can't help but wonder if my mom was right. I've never been this far from home, but here I am on a sticky bus with everything that is important to me in my untouched suitcase. My essence in North Carolina fades with each state line I pass, but the ropes of that small town loosen against my skin. I'm going to New York. I'm going to be a writer. I'm going to be a NY Best Selling author. Hours go by and a small overhead light at the front of the bus has kept me comfortable. I smiled to myself as I drifted asleep.
By Victoria Nguyen5 years ago in Wander
Delving Deep
Sticky sloppy sludge squelched between my toes as I trudged through the narrow passage. Grazing my fingertips along the dampened brick wall to keep my balance as I tried to focus on the light ahead. I clutched my skirt up to avoid the droplets of backsplash as my mind wandered; I began questioning myself:
By Rose Jones5 years ago in Wander
Mega and the Black Book
There once was a man from Nantucket- What? Don’t believe me? Okay, he’s from Mississippi but he’s in Nantucket now. He was a traveler of sorts; some may say a rolling stone. He moved like the wind with nothing but his Sax and his satchel. If you heard the story of how he ended up in Nantucket you wouldn’t believe it, you’d think he was made up. You’d say, “that stuff only happens in books or movies.” I can assure you that this is the absolute true story of Mega Magnolia.
By Cedes SaidWhat5 years ago in Wander
The Little Black Book
The smooth, round stones sunk slightly as the water washed over the shore. Anna watched mesmerized as the waves plucked pebbles from the embankment and set them upon their unwilling journey. Would they find themselves upon the shores of a distant land or would they be destined to toss endlessly in the turbulent ocean without ever reaching a destination? Anna stood up, waited patiently for the next tide to swallow her calves, and then gently placed the airtight box of photographs along with the Little Black Book into the waiting arms of the Mediterranean. She secretly hoped that the ocean would carry her painful memories far, far away --- and the sea obliged.
By Charlene Flick5 years ago in Wander
A Strange Discovery
I have often enjoyed my solitary walks through nature. Mornings such as today were such that could only be described with the word ‘fine’. Not ‘beautiful’, not ‘perfect’, such words seemed overly magical and perhaps unreal for my liking. The sun was shining brightly, with little wisps of white among blue skies. That, too, was ideal. I had always found entirely blue skies oppressive in their intensity. The temperature was the perfect balance of warmth, just slightly too warm but with a light breeze to balance out the surplus. The shadows of the trees provided momentary comfort, with the small distance between them arousing a faint longing for their shelter which was momentarily satisfied upon reaching the next.
By Dmitri Yendrzheyevskiy5 years ago in Wander
The Book Yet to be Written
"Well, that doesn't seem like a coincidence," James Marie Scott said to herself as flames overtook the small dilapidated cottage standing before her. The heat from the blaze warmed her cheeks as she ran a hand over the shaved side of her head, flipping her shoulder-length wavy locks to the other side of her face.
By Melissa McGill 5 years ago in Wander
Borne on the Bayou
Borne on the Bayou By: Michael Cole In all, Marcus had to admit to himself that things could be worse. In fact, he’d seen worse, experienced worse and certainly lived through worse. Growing up in the murky, hazard filled bayous of Plaquemines Parrish in Louisiana’s most southern reaches into the Gulf of Mexico, Marcus had lived through hurricanes, flooding, battles with prehistoric swamp dwelling creatures and a host of hazards too numerous to mention. But Marcus was not at all put off by his upbringing. No, he appreciated all that he and his French-Creole small family of five had endured and triumphed over.
By Michael Cole5 years ago in Wander
