In this week’s The Writer’s Notebook, from NYT’s Paper Cuts blog, Michael Chabon opens his diary from a 2004 trip to China.  As a fan of Chabon, I have to admit that I wanted more.

I travel a fair amount (because I am wicked rich and fancy) and  write a fair amount (because I am wicked smart-or stupid, time will tell) and I have never been good at the travel diary thing though I really,really want to be.  It bums me out because I know I’m always forgetting cool shit, and, of course, I love the idea of spending hours in a random cafe casually spewing brilliance into a tattered notebook.  I tried to force myself to keep a diary when I went to Peru in December and I got about two days in before I gave up out of boredom.  I think I need to at least start keeping a list of the things I see and do in a notebook so I can pretend to remember it when I’m old, but won’t put any pressure on myself to talk about exotic food or azure water.  I guess this is all to say that while I wanted more from Chabon, I’ll happily take what I got.  And I woulda loved to be there! (I went to Hong Kong 9 years ago, incidentally, and what did I write-jack shit).