I've never been very interested in writers residencies. The idea of going somewhere for the express purpose of writing has always seemed a little strange. Perhaps that's because I write everywhere and often. I don't need a cabin to inspire me to write. One of the main reasons for going on a residency, I'm told, is to "stop the clocks," to carve out a little time for the lonesome and ponderous work. But my life is not hectic. I am not "busy," at least not in the way that everyone else seems to be. When I'm not writing, it's out of laziness, not for the lack of a remote mountain cabin to flock my thoughts.

But, when I heard about the Amtrak residency for writers, I was really excited. The idea is as simple, romantic, and ingenious: they buy you a ticket, they give you a desk and a berth, and you write on the train as it rolls around the country for a few days and then drops you off back where you began.

Part of the application asks why you want to participate in the residency. My answer was this:

There's something unique about riding on a train. It's both venturesome and contemplative; it's invigorating and hypnotic. One feels like one is hurtling along, but very placidly, very methodically.

Trains do strange things to one's perception, too. The environs near the tracks are just glimpsed as they pass by in a rush, but the distant things, the mountains and the horizons, they linger outside the window for minutes and hours at a time.

Writing is a lot like riding on a train: it is as an adventure of contemplation. It is the rushing by of words and the lingering presence of distant impressions and ideas.