Category Archives: Travel

Of Books and Brownstones

Posted on October 31, 2019 by allisongreenwriter

  As a child, I knew nothing about the east coast; what I understood about the metropolis of New York City came from Sesame Street. The show debuted in 1969, so my family was probably living in Wisconsin when I … Continue reading →

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Thirty-Nine Years Later

Posted on May 24, 2019 by allisongreenwriter

On the 39th anniversary of the eruption of Mount St. Helens, I tagged along on a geology field trip with students from my college. This was my fourth visit to the volcano (spoiler alert: manuscript-in-progress), and I was hoping to … Continue reading →

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Anguish Time

Posted on July 28, 2016 by allisongreenwriter

In the Church of Saint Francis — Igreja de São Francisco — in Porto, Portugal, believers once dropped coins into alms boxes, whispered prayers, and hoped that someone was listening. These painted wooden boxes are now nailed to a wall … Continue reading →

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Conjuring Hurston

Posted on February 21, 2016 by allisongreenwriter

When loved ones die, we think of them, talk to them, ask their advice out loud and in our dreams. We conjure them, not only because we miss them, but because we need them. Alice Walker needed writer Zora Neale … Continue reading →

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A Summer of Readings

Posted on September 16, 2015 by allisongreenwriter

I read recently from The Ghosts Who Travel with Me at the Modern Hotel in Boise, one of my favorite stops on the book tour. In 2008, when Arline and I began the literary pilgrimage that would inform the book, … Continue reading →

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Travels with La Roja, Part 1

Posted on July 27, 2015 by allisongreenwriter

Recently, my brother went to Vancouver for the World Cup, where he watched Canada beat Switzerland and England beat Canada. To keep costs down, he camped on the edge of the city, spending one night in his car and taking … Continue reading →

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Since You Left Minneapolis

Posted on April 25, 2015 by allisongreenwriter

I turned thirty in Minneapolis. I wanted to celebrate with my girlfriend-at-the-time on the patio of the Loring Park Café, where a musician played saxophone from the roof. But it rained that day – a pummeling thunderstorm – and we … Continue reading →

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