10 Questions to Ask Before Planning Your Research Trip | Early & Away

Not every writing project requires travel. But when a project does demand it—when the work needs you to be somewhere specific, to see and hear and walk through a place—the difference shows on the page.

The challenge isn't usually whether to go. It's knowing when you're ready, what you actually need, and how to make the trip serve the work rather than distract from it.

Before you book anything, sit with these ten questions. Your answers will shape everything that follows.

1. What can only be learned by being there?

This is the foundational question. Be specific.

"I need to understand the setting" isn't enough. What about the setting? The way sound carries in narrow streets? The distance between the church and the river? How long it takes to walk from the train station to the town center?

Make a list of what you cannot know without going. If the list is short or vague, you may not be ready yet. If it's long and specific, you have the beginning of an itinerary.

2. How much do I already know?

Research travel works best when you arrive with enough knowledge to ask good questions—but not so much that you've already decided what you'll find.

Have you read widely about this place? Studied maps? Looked at photographs? Talked to people who've been there?

The goal isn't to exhaust secondary sources before you go. It's to build enough foundation that your time on the ground becomes discovery rather than basic orientation.

3. What stage is my project in?

Early-stage research travel serves different purposes than late-stage.

Early stage: You're gathering impressions, testing whether this place can hold your story, discovering what you don't yet know you need. Flexibility matters more than efficiency.

Middle stage: You have specific questions. You know what scenes require what locations. You need to confirm, deepen, and fill gaps.

Late stage: You're checking details, verifying what you've written, catching errors before they're published. Precision matters most.

Each stage suggests different trip lengths, different pacing, different priorities.

4. How much time do I actually need?

Writers often underestimate this.

The first two or three days in any new place are adjustment. You're managing logistics, fighting jet lag, getting oriented. Real noticing begins once you've settled.

For most research trips, a minimum of seven to ten days allows you to move past the surface. Longer is usually better—not because you need to see more, but because you need time to see deeply.

What's your minimum viable trip? What would ideal look like? The answer is probably somewhere between them.

5. What kind of traveler am I?

This matters more than most writers acknowledge.

Do you need quiet mornings to process what you've seen? Do you work best with a packed schedule or open hours? Does uncertainty energize you or drain you? Do you recharge alone or through conversation?

Research travel isn't vacation, but it's still travel. A trip designed against your natural rhythms will exhaust you before it teaches you anything.

6. What's my research style?

Some writers take copious notes. Others photograph everything. Some sketch. Some record voice memos. Some simply walk and absorb, trusting that what matters will stay with them.

There's no correct approach, but knowing yours helps you plan. Heavy note-takers need time built into each day for writing. Photographers need to budget for memory cards, backup drives, maybe archive photography fees. Walkers need comfortable shoes and unscheduled hours.

What tools and time does your research style require?

7. What resources exist there that I can't access remotely?

Archives, libraries, local historians, landscapes, architecture, regional museums, cemeteries, parish records, newspaper morgues—many resources exist only in place.

Identify them before you go. Check opening hours, access requirements, whether you need appointments. Some archives require advance registration. Some charge fees. Some have limited hours that will constrain your schedule.

The worst research trip surprise is arriving to find what you needed closed, moved, or inaccessible.

8. Who might I need to talk to?

Research travel isn't only about places. Sometimes it's about people.

Local historians, museum curators, longtime residents, subject matter experts, descendants of historical figures—these conversations can reshape your understanding in ways no book can.

But people require advance contact. You can't show up hoping the right person will be available. Reach out before you go. Explain your project. Ask if they'd be willing to meet.

9. What's my budget reality?

Be honest with yourself.

Research travel costs money. How much can you actually spend? What trade-offs are you willing to make? Would you rather a shorter trip in better accommodations or a longer trip stretched thin?

There's no right answer, but there is your answer. Know it before you start planning.

(For more on this, see our post on budgeting for research travel.)

10. What does success look like?

Before you go, define what a successful trip would give you.

Maybe it's answering specific questions. Maybe it's a felt sense of place you currently lack. Maybe it's confirmation that what you've imagined is accurate—or discovery that it needs to change.

Without a sense of what you're trying to accomplish, you'll return with impressions but not necessarily what the work requires.

When You're Ready

If you've worked through these questions and your answers feel solid, you're ready to plan.

If some answers are unclear, that's information too. Maybe you need more preliminary research. Maybe you need to advance the project further before travel makes sense. Maybe you need help thinking through the logistics.

Early & Away specializes in research travel planning for writers. We help you move from "I need to go there" to a trip designed around your project, your working style, and your budget.

Book a consultation to talk through your answers to these questions—and figure out what comes next.