Jungle Books

Issue #31 · On finding inspiration in the most remote (and wet) places.

May 20, 2024: Greetings from Rio Dulce, Guatemala, a 40-ish mile lagoon-like stretch of land wedged between Belize and Honduras that just barely sneaks up on the Caribbean Sea. This secluded little concave of Central American coastline is stunningly beautiful, and has been the perfect place for a spontaneous side trip, and to fill an empty week between travel plans.

Rio Dulce is a random, remote village scattered along its eponymous river bank — it’s a six hour drive from the big city and once you arrive, you can only get around by boat. It’s an unusual place that makes me (again) ponder the bizarre ripple effect of life choices that have led me here. But to be fair, by “here” I mean laying in a peaceful hammock overlooking a lush, tropical mangrove and a charming little marina* full of sailboats and catamarans. So I guess for now, I’ll ignore the humidity, lack of AC and doormat scorpion that greeted us upon arrival, because it’s a pretty great place.

My original plan was to just stay in Antigua this week, but when my friend Katie suggested this off the grid random adventure, I was sold. There’s not much to do here, which was sort of the whole point — a relaxing, unplugged weekend among nature. Though ironically, we’ve added two additional nights to our stay after finding surprisingly stable internet that is allowing us to get some work done today and tomorrow.

Still, we successfully traded in zoom calls for paperbacks this past weekend — my reading nook of choice being that aforementioned hammock, and Katie’s being a turquoise adirondack chair on a floating barge (she didn’t mind running the risk of getting a few pages wet). I mean, how could you not get sucked into something from this cute dockside bookcase full of incredibly apt titles? The Old Man and the Sea, Homer’s The Odyssey, a remarkably tattered copy of Lonely Planet’s Central America on a Shoestring or last but certainly not least, Understanding Boat Refrigeration and Air Conditioning Systems.

After a busy month packed full of new friends and volcanic excursions, getting a lazy jump on my summer reading list was just what the introvert ordered. It’s only natural that my inner bookworm resurfaced, as there’s of course an inseparable, symbiotic link between reading and writing — not only has my Libby app been firing on all cylinders, but I’ve also been tearing through all of my new Substack friends’ writing (boy, am I glad to have migrated here). I think it’s because whenever I stumble upon a prolific internet essayist or sink my teeth into a compelling page turner, it’s motivation to write something of my own that's equally unputdownable. One day, one day hopefully soon.

First though, I should probably figure out exactly *what* it is that I write about: Travel stories? Thoughts on life? A combination of the two? Something else entirely? During Write of Passage (the writing bootcamp I participated in last month), I justifiably had many holes poked through the fragile elevator pitch that was my attempt to describe Extracurricular Pursuits’ niche. A valid question, and one whose answer I hope will naturally reveal itself over time with consistent publishing, and without force.

In the meantime, please excuse me as I seek distractive refuge from this mini-existential writing crisis in yet another title plucked off that weathered bookshelf. It’s just that reading often falsely feels like an antidote to writer’s block — no, it doesn’t directly help get any of my own thoughts down on paper, but it still falls somewhere on the spectrum of word-related productivity. And like any good vice, I’m well aware (yet choosing to ignore) its downside for a hit of the good stuff: endless pages full of other people’s already finished writing.

Sure, while it can be argued that reading helps flex your creative muscles, I’ve actually found that my own ideas only ever come to fruition once I shut off external stimulation entirely. Have you ever unexpectedly had brilliant idea or mental breakthrough while washing the dishes or while in the shower? Well, it’s no coincidence that wet places unconducive to paper pages or digital displays are where our best ideas abruptly come to mind. So perhaps rather than reading, I should commandeer a dinghy from one of these fancy sailboats and go for a float down Rio Dulce instead — because out on these swampy open seas, not even my books are safe.

---

Recommended related posts:

• Follow Me to Weird Places — Encouragement to step off the beaten tourist path and get lost in unpronounceable places.

• Unclogging the Pipes — Creating accidental time capsules and impromptu therapy sessions through writing.

PS: I’d love to hear what you thought about this issue. Email me directly at hello@emilyannhill.com and I pinky promise I’ll reply back.

---

*My new favorite hobby is walking along the dock laughing at the pun-filled boat names. It’s just so perfectly cringe. The Reel Deal or The Codfather?? Stop it right now with the dad jokes. I need to know more about this tradition/history of naming boats. Who has got something for me to read on this?

**The geography nerd in me also loves checking out where these boats are from — maybe only more impressive than the catamaran from Cape Town or the fishing vessel from Vancouver Island which have both made their way thousands of miles to Guatemala is the dinky little guy from landlocked Drumwright, Oklahoma. I really need the backstory on that one.

PS: Distraction-fuel or not, the comments section is now open and now accepting all summer read recommendations! I’m especially a sucker for a good memoir, non-fiction or self-improvement title. Or if you actually like my writing, maybe don’t.

---