When Travel Disrupts Your Writing—5 Ways to Return to the Page

The journey might shake your practice, but not your purpose

One of the most important things I’ve learned about myself as a writer is that I thrive within structure and frameworks. It’s how I learn, how I build habits, and it’s how I wrote my first book. Structure gave me the container I needed to hold the weight and complexity of telling my story. That’s why I’ve built a writing routine I can lean on.

But over the past year, I’ve been on the road more than I’ve been still. I’ve packed and unpacked more times than I can count. Hopped on buses, planes, and trains. I’ve slept in guest rooms and artist residencies, Airbnbs and friends’ sofas. I love the movement, but it disrupts my writing routine. And when that routine falls apart, so can my confidence, if I’m not careful.

Still, I’ve learned a few things about writing on the road. About how to keep the practice alive when your environment keeps changing; how to return, gently and consistently, to the page.

Here’s what I’ve found:

Lower Your Expectations

It might be hard to accept, but expect less. Not forever, just for now. Writing while in motion is not the same as writing from your cozy, familiar desk. Your productivity will dip. Your energy will be inconsistent. You’ll have off days—or off weeks.

Accepting this helps you show up with compassion rather than judgment. It makes room for small wins instead of setting yourself up for disappointment.

Plan Ahead

Don’t leave it to chance. If you know you have a travel day coming up, ask yourself: what kind of work makes sense for that leg of the journey?

If you’ll be tired, pack something to read. If you’ll be on a long flight, download light tasks you can tackle offline—like organizing notes, making a mind map, or listening to a writing podcast. If you know your brain won’t be at full capacity, don’t ask it to be.

Batching, brainstorming, making a list of scenes or memories you want to write—all of these can be fruitful, low-energy ways to stay connected to your book.

I keep a running list of “travel-friendly” writing tasks, so when I board a train or settle into a coach seat, I’m not scrambling to figure out how to use the time.

Pack for Focus

Travel is noisy—literally and mentally. I’ve learned to bring what I need to carve out my own quiet bubble: headphones, earplugs, playlists that help me drop in.

I also download everything I need in advance: documents, books, research, podcasts. If Wi-Fi is unreliable (and it often is), I don’t want to be derailed.

Know How to Return

Despite my best efforts, some travel weeks derail me completely. I barely read or write. I fall off the wagon.

But I’ve learned how to get back on.

· I bank time in my schedule. I look ahead at the week and find pockets I can reclaim for writing—even if it’s just 30 minutes. Then I show up, no matter what.

· I reread. If I’m feeling foggy or disconnected from my material, I revisit something I’ve already written. Usually it sparks something new. Sometimes I just need to hear my own voice again.

· I write about the disruption. If I’m unwell, overstimulated or overwhelmed—I let myself about write that. The interruption becomes the material. And often, writing about the mess is what opens me up again.

Let Travel Feed Your Writing

Sometimes, I forget—travel is part of the process. Even when I’m not writing, I’m collecting.

I give myself permission to absorb, to pay attention. And I trust that the writing will come again.

A Final Word

Writing is less about talent and more about return. About learning how to meet the page again and again—regardless of where you are or how long you’ve been away.

Life will interrupt your routine. Travel will upend your rhythm. But the discipline of memoir isn’t about perfection. It’s about persistence.

I would love to hear how you keep writing when you’re on the road.