As Beth pointed out in the comments for my Breathing Room post, sometimes we need a little white space in real life.
What kind of literary vacation would you take? Would you visit the Island of Doctor Moreau? Or, perhaps, trail Raskolnikov through Saint Petersburg?
I don’t have an end-all-be-all literary vacation, but I do have a strange desire to visit 221B Baker Street. Although, apparently, it doesn’t/didn’t really exist.
Perhaps I should, instead, think about visiting the cafes where famous writers wrote and see if they left any of their mojo behind. I’d start in Edinburgh with The Elephant House…mainly because it’s in Scotland, but also because Rowling can really nail an ending.
So many vacationing possibilities.