Beyond the Selfie: The Art and Ethics of Writing Authentic Travel Memoir

In a world flooded with globetrotting influencers and endless top 10 lists, is there still a place for meaningful and evocative first-person travel writing?

We’re thrilled to have Kerra Bolton teaching the upcoming Narratively Academy class, The Art and Ethics of Writing Travel Memoir (starts March 10). Today she is sharing some crucial thoughts about travel writing, sparked by her recent stay in Marrakech.

Palais Mehdi in Marrakech, photo by Kerra Bolton

I am writing this from a quiet bungalow nestled at the edge of a converted palace in Marrakech. A white marble fountain, its edges lined with floating rose petals, sits at the center of the main courtyard. The warm, spicy aroma of tagine drifts in from the kitchen. Inside the palace — now a hotel lobby — a mixture of traditional and modern Moroccan art stretches across time, inviting the viewer to either make sense of the disharmony or appreciate its controlled chaos.

Within seconds of arriving, I snap and post a photo of the palace lobby with the caption, “What’s good, Morocco?”

“Holy Mother of Casablanca, that’s gorgeous!” my friend Paul comments.

Admittedly, the reactions of my friends and family give me a small, orange-blossom glow of pride. But that glow is fleeting. Too often, travel writing is reduced to glossy social media captions, bucket-list bravado and budget-friendly travel hacks. It can be so much more than that, though. Travel writing was once an art form shaped by writers like James Baldwin (Another Country), Monisha Rajesh (Around India in 80 Trains) and

Cheryl Strayed

(Wild). Now, it has too often become more spectacle than story. In today’s market, it would be easy to reduce Marrakech to snapshots of ancient spice markets, picturesque alleyways and flowing kaftans. But true travel writing isn’t a top 10 list. Like prayer, travel is about how the journey changes you.

Whenever I set out to write a travel essay — or a longer travel memoir — I think about what I’ve learned from those classics and ask myself a series of hard questions to ensure I’m writing something that goes beyond social media perfection and into the complexities of place, history and self.

These are the four guiding principles I keep in mind as I ask myself those questions:

1. Own Who You Are

The biggest mistake new travel writers make is believing that their personal experience is the experience. Your memoir is yours, yes — but no place exists just for you to discover it. You have to start by recognizing who you are, how you are perceived by others and how that affects your experience of a particular place.

As a Black American woman, I can belong to three marginalized groups in a single sentence. I used to think that would automatically make me more welcome in certain places, less of an outsider than other Americans. But not always. I’ve learned that when I travel, I’m first and foremost seen as “American.” Depending on the country I’m in, that might mean I’m seen as a colonizer, wealthy or lonely — because I often travel alone, which many people find unusual. In my writing, I could ignore nationality and class differences, or I could acknowledge them, address how they affect my experience, be kind, and honor our shared humanity.

To write a balanced story:

✔ Acknowledge the history, culture and politics of a place.

✔ Consider details that aren’t just about you. What can you bring forward in the narrative that deepens the reader’s understanding of the place itself?

✔ Challenge yourself. Try writing a scene from another person’s perspective.

2. Think Globally, Write Ethically

Travel stories shape how people perceive a place — sometimes for generations. The language we use, the narratives we repeat and even the stories that get published create lasting impressions. So, think carefully about what goes in your stories and how people will interpret it.

For example, people often ask me about drug cartels when they learn I lived in Mexico. While I share my truth, I also remind them that Mexico is more than cartels, tacos and tequila. People think that’s all there is to Mexico if that’s all they’ve ever read about. Great travel memoirs are rooted in curiosity, humility and respect — and show the full complexity of a place.

When writing travel memoir, ask yourself:

✔ Are you reinforcing harmful stereotypes? (Example: How do you write about safety without sensationalizing danger?)

✔ Are you capturing a place’s complexity rather than flattening it into clichés?

✔ Are you writing from emotional truth while avoiding exoticization?

3. Imagine Setting as a Character

Setting in travel writing isn’t just a place where things happen; it stands on its own. Think about Sex and the City. Love it or hate it, New York City was the show’s fifth main character — maybe even the main character. Travel memoir can do the same.

✔ Go beyond the obvious. Blythe Roberson’s America the Beautiful? presents U.S. National Parks in a way that moves past the romanticism of “majestic trees and gurgling brooks.” Instead, she paints vivid pictures of these places while asking tough questions: Who owns this land? Should stolen Indigenous land be preserved as a park?

✔ Details bring setting to life.

• How is Moroccan mint tea served?

• What does the medina (city center) smell like in the morning?

• How does a city’s culture shape the way people interact?

Great travel writing isn’t a written version of a selfie. It’s an invitation to see the world through your eyes — but in enough rich detail and color that readers can see it too.

4. Know What’s Yours to Say

I’ve been hinting at this point throughout because it’s the most important. One of the most challenging aspects of travel memoir writing is knowing what is — and isn’t — yours to say.

For example, I haven’t seen much of “real” Marrakech — other than through cab windows and walks in posh neighborhoods. So, can I truly describe the city? No, so I wouldn’t try to write an article about “the real Marrakech.” But I can certainly say what it is like for me to experience it.

As you revise your travel memoir, ask yourself:

✔ Are you observing, or assuming?

✔ Are you acknowledging privilege, power and perspective?

✔ Are you making sweeping generalizations based on a short visit?

You don’t need to speak for a place to write about it well. You just need to be honest. Let truth and transparency be your guides.

Travel memoir is more than recounting experiences — it’s about how those experiences shape you. The best travel writing honors both the traveler, people and place.

So, the next time you write about a journey, ask yourself: Am I writing to be seen, or am I writing to see?

Want to learn more? Join Kerra next month!