One thing I miss about commuting into Manhattan for work (the only thing I miss, really) is the train ride. Some people have their best thinking/brainstorming moments while walking, in the shower, cleaning up around the house, but for me, it’s “passengering.” Sitting still while in a moving vehicle (nothing to trip over, that way!), staring out the window, watching the world rush by. There’s something about that movement that frees my brain to whirl as rapidly, rushing from concept to concept, connecting thoughts and creating epiphanies as quickly as the window view passes from tree to tree.

This past week, I visited family in Indiana, and—as a starving artist who needs to finish her novel before even having the chance to get paid for the effort—I went the long, less-expensive route of taking a train there: Amtrak’s Lake Shore Limited line that runs from New York City to Chicago. I would be getting off in South Bend, merely 1 1/2 hours from the train’s final stop. The trip length would total 17 hours going, 18 coming back: I would have lots of brainstorming time!

Since I was doing this for the expense and not the experience, I didn’t spring for the Viewliner rooms that offer a private window, solitary surroundings, and a bed—would love to do that someday (but oh-so-prohibitively expensive). Instead, I opted for a regular Coach Class seat, and as I boarded, I was immediately grateful for the train fare I scored work out more cheaply than Greyhound, because Amtrak was infinitely more spacious than the bus. The seats reclined too, and had a footrest.

The other great score was the passenger who sat down across the aisle from me. Travel buddies are part of the serendipity of traveling by yourself, the random people you meet and befriend immediately through some divine synchronicity of purpose. Sometimes these people become more than just a fleeting acquaintanceship, and I hope that is the case with this girl. We shared our stories and delved into our passions, finding that quite a few aligned. Most interestingly, for the sake of this being a “working trip” for me, her area of study aligns with what my protagonist experiences throughout my novel, bullying from her peers. My travel buddy, as an education major with a specific interest in female-oriented bullying in young children, provided wonderful insights and suggested a few books to read up on the subject: Reviving Ophelia, Ophelia Speaks, Odd Girl Out. I haven’t yet given much thought to the psychology of this area, so it was a great jumpstart to my forthcoming research.

The rest of the trip wasn’t elegant or glamorous; typical Amtrak train ride. For the most part, people were fairly considerate with their noise levels (until 3 a.m., when people inexplicably began boarding while talking on cell phones, having loud conversations, etc.), and I got a good amount of work done (though less than planned, since I spent time chatting with my travel buddy…no regrets!). Sleep was difficult, but best-case scenario: I managed to keep the adjacent seat empty for the whole trip, so I could stretch out a little.

The return trip was a bit rougher, but I still had a window seat to stare at the beautiful passing scenery and headphones to quiet my world.

All in all, it was a productive trip that achieved its primary purpose of getting me to my destination, with some insights and decent novel brainstorming to boot. Train rides don’t live up to the romanticized notions that we give them, and certainly in a regular seat you have no control over your surroundings. The odd person on a cell phone, a baby crying, even just a passenger seated next you is enough to derail whatever mental thought zone you’re in (or me, at least, but I know I’m the only writer who gets distracted by noise). I made great strides in the restructuring of my novel—which is good, because my deadline to begin writing it is October 1—but the entire 35 hours I spent on a train didn’t yield nearly as much result as I hoped it would, largely because of distraction, restlessness, and tiredness over a poor night’s sleep.

Since leaving my job, I’ve entertained the notion of taking train trips just to write, and this trip helped to solidify that that notion is flawed. The environment is too uncontrolled, and the rooms that do offer that are too expensive to make that a viable option. At least when you’re taking a train twice a day for work, that provides ample opportunity for some (definitely not all) of those trips to give you ideal working conditions (especially with NJ Transit’s advent of “quiet cars,” something Amtrak did not have on this particular line).

Ever since its announcement in 2014, I’ve been excited by the prospect of Amtrak’s writing residency. That trip is actually on the line I’ve just traveled, and I’ve been wanting to build up the credentials to legitimately apply for such a program. However, apparently it only goes to social network gurus (i.e., people who can provide immediate and far-reaching advertisement), not up-and-coming novel writers, so looks like I’m out of luck for that one. Bummer. There’s also this discussion on what rights you’re granting Amtrak through applying, so guess I’ll just wait until I have the expendable cash to afford my own luxury Viewliner room for random trips about the countryside.

So, in the end, I will enjoy writing on trains when I have the opportunity to do so. I just won’t expect it, nor take trips for the explicit purpose of getting in some good writing time. There’s just too much pressure on the environment working out in your favor to justify the time or expense if it doesn’t cooperate. I will relish the time when it does, though, and I can get lost in the movement of the world rushing past.