Suzanne Roberts: “The Next Great Travel Writer”

Last fall, Travcoa and National Geographic Traveler sponsored the Next Great Travel Writer contest, sending the winner to Mongolia and China on a Travcoa trip with Traveler Editor-in-Chief Keith Bellows to write on assignment for the magazine’s website. Yesterday, we interviewed Bellows. Today, we interview the talented woman who won the contest.

Out of the 500 entries, University of Nevada, Reno PhD candidate Suzanne Roberts was selected for the 300-word essay she wrote about witnessing an Indian cremation ritual. Roberts is also the author of two books of poetry: Shameless (Cherry Grove, 2007) and Nothing to You (Pecan Grove Press, 2008)

In July, after Roberts returned from her travels in Mongolia and China, Vagablogging was able to ask her a few questions about her trip and travel writing.

With over 500 entries, competition to be the “The Next Great Travel Writer” was fierce. How did you react when you learned that you were the winner?

I jumped up and down. And I screamed. I am sure my neighbors were wondering what I was up to. But in many ways, I feel like everything I have done up until now—the writing, researching, studying, traveling—has prepared me for this.

Why did you choose to write your essay on an Indian cremation? What about that experience captivated you?

India is one of the most amazing places I have ever been, and one of the most incredible experiences in India is witnessing the cremations—the tenanted beauty of a landscape where no separation exists between the spiritual and the gritty, the beautiful and the ugly, life and death.

When you were in China and Mongolia on your Travcoa tour, you and Keith blogged from the road. What difficulties did you face blogging from the road?

Blogging seems a bit like sending off a rough draft, and that aspect of it makes me uncomfortable. For me, writing means thinking, writing, rewriting, rewriting, and rewriting. In blogging, there is very little time for the writing process. I am a poet, and some of my poems have taken me more than 15 years to write. Many people would never believe that a 15-line poem could take 15 years or more to write, but oftentimes, it will take that long or longer. With blogging, it all happens so fast, so I would send something off and then think, “Oh-no. I should have added this line or that fact.” Also, sometimes a story develops over the course of a few days or a week, so after sending off a piece, I realized that the story wasn’t yet finished. But I suppose the story is never finished, and I probably need to be able to let go of things more easily than I do.

Another difficulty was that I didn’t bring my computer, which I regretted. I have this giant laptop, so I left it at home. I ended up spending a small fortune in the business center of the hotels where I was staying. Needless to say, I am in the market for a smaller laptop, and I won’t travel again without it.

What was the best part of your trip to China and Mongolia? The worst part?
The best part for me was seeing the Gobi desert and witnessing the “mim-naadam,” a smaller local version of the big annual festival of the three “manly” sports—horse racing, wrestling, and archery. We were so close to the wrestlers that a couple of times, we had to jump out of the way to avoid having a pair of wrestlers land in our laps.

I also really enjoyed traveling with Keith Bellows. I learned a lot about travel writing from him. He is wonderful mentor and an overall great guy. Everyone on the tour really enjoyed having him along. There was no “worst” part of the trip for me—and that is usually the case. The “worst” parts often become the best stories.

What advice would you give aspiring travel writers?

Although I am not sure I am qualified to offer “aspiring travel writers” advice, I do know this: Travel writing does not mean going on a free holiday, writing about it, and getting paid for it—or if it does, I am dead-wrong about what I am about to say. Many people think travel writing, and often writing in general, is easier than it is. The truth is, writing is hard work. Finding the story means research, following leads, conducting interviews, writing and lots of rewriting. I get bored, though, if I don’t have a “job to do,” so travel writing fits my temperament. A prominent scholar and writer, Sandra Gilbert, once said, “The first step is to have the seat of the pants in the seat of the chair.” Though travel writing seems like the converse of that, both are necessary—the adventure and the hard, and often sedentary, work—this is the part no one thinks about when imagining the life of the travel writer because, quite frankly, it isn’t very sexy. So, my advice is this: work hard, study, find mentors, and read and write a lot.

You are writing your dissertation on eco-feminist theory at the University of Nevada, Reno. How does this relate to the lands you have visited and the people you have met on your travels?

My research has definitely influenced the way I see the world. Every place I go, I am interested in the way people interact with the landscape and how these interactions affect both the people and the land. Last year, I was traveling in Ecuador’s El Oriente, and I kept asking our guide where all the animals and birds were—I was in a rainforest, and the only animals I saw were snakes, spiders, and bats. The guide kept saying, “Rainy season. Animals gone.” I did some research and found out that both the human and animal residents had been affected by the contamination due to oil drilling (by US oil companies). I have since written a series of poems that deal with the issues of oil drilling in El Oriente.

I am also very interested in the ways in which women interact with the natural world in the US and elsewhere. My dissertation argues that in British and American literature, women have been relegated to the domestic sphere, creating the illusion that the wilderness is especially dangerous for women. I do think that contemporary American women still carry some of these ideas in our collective consciousness—the idea that goblin men lurk in the dark glen, and we should therefore be afraid to go out into the wilderness alone. I am intrigued with the ways in which other cultures have created similar, or dissimilar, constructs of women and nature. Of course, in a place like nomadic Mongolia (as opposed to the Mongolians who are city-dwelling), there is very little separation between humans and the nonhuman world—the construct of wilderness as a “separate place” from humans cannot exist. The “wilderness” is home for both men and women. By looking at the ways in which other cultures interact with the natural environments, we are able to discover different, and perhaps better, models.

What is next for you after you finish your PhD? Are you planning on focusing on a travel writing career?

I would like to explore the possibility of travel writing, and I have a couple of ideas for upcoming stories. I love traveling and writing, and both will continue to be a large part of my life regardless of what happens, but I do plan to bring them together in a more intentional way in the future. I am also working on a few other “travel” writing projects, including another book of poems, Almost Somewhere, comprised entirely of travel poems and also a memoir about hiking California’s John Muir Trail.
Last fall, Travcoa and National Geographic Traveler sponsored the Next Great Travel Writer contest, sending the winner to Mongolia and China on a Travcoa trip with Traveler Editor-in-Chief Keith Bellows to write on assignment for the magazine’s website. Yesterday, we interviewed Bellows. Today, we interview the talented woman who won the contest.

Out of the 500 entries, University of Nevada, Reno PhD candidate Suzanne Roberts was selected for the 300-word essay she wrote about witnessing an Indian cremation ritual. Roberts is also the author of two books of poetry: Shameless (Cherry Grove, 2007) and Nothing to You (Pecan Grove Press, 2008)

In July, after Roberts returned from her travels in Mongolia and China, Vagablogging was able to ask her a few questions about her trip and travel writing.

With over 500 entries, competition to be the “The Next Great Travel Writer” was fierce. How did you react when you learned that you were the winner?

I jumped up and down. And I screamed. I am sure my neighbors were wondering what I was up to. But in many ways, I feel like everything I have done up until now—the writing, researching, studying, traveling—has prepared me for this.

Why did you choose to write your essay on an Indian cremation? What about that experience captivated you?

India is one of the most amazing places I have ever been, and one of the most incredible experiences in India is witnessing the cremations—the tenanted beauty of a landscape where no separation exists between the spiritual and the gritty, the beautiful and the ugly, life and death.

When you were in China and Mongolia on your Travcoa tour, you and Keith blogged from the road. What difficulties did you face blogging from the road?

Blogging seems a bit like sending off a rough draft, and that aspect of it makes me uncomfortable. For me, writing means thinking, writing, rewriting, rewriting, and rewriting. In blogging, there is very little time for the writing process. I am a poet, and some of my poems have taken me more than 15 years to write. Many people would never believe that a 15-line poem could take 15 years or more to write, but oftentimes, it will take that long or longer. With blogging, it all happens so fast, so I would send something off and then think, “Oh-no. I should have added this line or that fact.” Also, sometimes a story develops over the course of a few days or a week, so after sending off a piece, I realized that the story wasn’t yet finished. But I suppose the story is never finished, and I probably need to be able to let go of things more easily than I do.

Another difficulty was that I didn’t bring my computer, which I regretted. I have this giant laptop, so I left it at home. I ended up spending a small fortune in the business center of the hotels where I was staying. Needless to say, I am in the market for a smaller laptop, and I won’t travel again without it.

What was the best part of your trip to China and Mongolia? The worst part?
The best part for me was seeing the Gobi desert and witnessing the “mim-naadam,” a smaller local version of the big annual festival of the three “manly” sports—horse racing, wrestling, and archery. We were so close to the wrestlers that a couple of times, we had to jump out of the way to avoid having a pair of wrestlers land in our laps.

I also really enjoyed traveling with Keith Bellows. I learned a lot about travel writing from him. He is wonderful mentor and an overall great guy. Everyone on the tour really enjoyed having him along. There was no “worst” part of the trip for me—and that is usually the case. The “worst” parts often become the best stories.

What advice would you give aspiring travel writers?

Although I am not sure I am qualified to offer “aspiring travel writers” advice, I do know this: Travel writing does not mean going on a free holiday, writing about it, and getting paid for it—or if it does, I am dead-wrong about what I am about to say. Many people think travel writing, and often writing in general, is easier than it is. The truth is, writing is hard work. Finding the story means research, following leads, conducting interviews, writing and lots of rewriting. I get bored, though, if I don’t have a “job to do,” so travel writing fits my temperament. A prominent scholar and writer, Sandra Gilbert, once said, “The first step is to have the seat of the pants in the seat of the chair.” Though travel writing seems like the converse of that, both are necessary—the adventure and the hard, and often sedentary, work—this is the part no one thinks about when imagining the life of the travel writer because, quite frankly, it isn’t very sexy. So, my advice is this: work hard, study, find mentors, and read and write a lot.

You are writing your dissertation on eco-feminist theory at the University of Nevada, Reno. How does this relate to the lands you have visited and the people you have met on your travels?

My research has definitely influenced the way I see the world. Every place I go, I am interested in the way people interact with the landscape and how these interactions affect both the people and the land. Last year, I was traveling in Ecuador’s El Oriente, and I kept asking our guide where all the animals and birds were—I was in a rainforest, and the only animals I saw were snakes, spiders, and bats. The guide kept saying, “Rainy season. Animals gone.” I did some research and found out that both the human and animal residents had been affected by the contamination due to oil drilling (by US oil companies). I have since written a series of poems that deal with the issues of oil drilling in El Oriente.

I am also very interested in the ways in which women interact with the natural world in the US and elsewhere. My dissertation argues that in British and American literature, women have been relegated to the domestic sphere, creating the illusion that the wilderness is especially dangerous for women. I do think that contemporary American women still carry some of these ideas in our collective consciousness—the idea that goblin men lurk in the dark glen, and we should therefore be afraid to go out into the wilderness alone. I am intrigued with the ways in which other cultures have created similar, or dissimilar, constructs of women and nature. Of course, in a place like nomadic Mongolia (as opposed to the Mongolians who are city-dwelling), there is very little separation between humans and the nonhuman world—the construct of wilderness as a “separate place” from humans cannot exist. The “wilderness” is home for both men and women. By looking at the ways in which other cultures interact with the natural environments, we are able to discover different, and perhaps better, models.

What is next for you after you finish your PhD? Are you planning on focusing on a travel writing career?

I would like to explore the possibility of travel writing, and I have a couple of ideas for upcoming stories. I love traveling and writing, and both will continue to be a large part of my life regardless of what happens, but I do plan to bring them together in a more intentional way in the future. I am also working on a few other “travel” writing projects, including another book of poems, Almost Somewhere, comprised entirely of travel poems and also a memoir about hiking California’s John Muir Trail.