Nellie Bly – She Beat Jules Verne’s Fictional Record by Traveling the World in 72 Days

Posted on by DWNOVACEK

In 1873, Jules Verne penned Around the World in Eighty Days, a wildly imaginative tale of Phileas Fogg racing across the globe on a wager. Fiction, sure – but a delightful bit of “what if.” Fast forward just 16 years, and a real-life heroine not only took up the challenge but smashed Verne’s fictional record into the dusty archives of “nice try.” Her name? Nellie Bly. Her time? Seventy-two days. Her legacy? Audacious, trailblazing, and worthy of far more fanfare than she’s received.

Nellie Bly wasn’t just a woman ahead of her time – she was a woman who steamrolled past the limitations of her time, waved gleefully at the doubters in her rearview mirror, and then sent a postcard from Singapore just to rub it in.

Let’s dive into how this unstoppable woman circumnavigated the globe, made history, revolutionized journalism, and carved out a legacy as one of the boldest female adventurers reporting has ever known.

Who Was Nellie Bly, Anyway?

Born Elizabeth Jane Cochran in 1864 in Cochran’s Mills, Pennsylvania (yes, named after her dad – who, spoiler alert, died young and left the family financially stranded), Bly learned early on that the world wasn’t going to hand her anything. So she took it.

She launched her journalism career in 1885 with a fiery rebuttal to a misogynistic column titled What Girls Are Good For. Signed with the pseudonym “Lonely Orphan Girl,” her piece impressed the editors at the Pittsburgh Dispatch, who hired her. Soon she adopted the pen name “Nellie Bly,” cribbed from a Stephen Foster song, and made it her own.

From the start, she was a different kind of journalist. Not content to sit in parlors and write fluff, Bly was part of the emerging “stunt girl” journalism movement – though she’d likely hate that label. She preferred investigative work. Real work. Work that meant strapping herself into a corset, stepping into chaos, and writing the hell out of it.

Her 1887 exposé for The New York World, “Ten Days in a Mad-House,” involved her faking insanity to report on the horrific conditions at Blackwell’s Island Insane Asylum. It was equal parts guts and grit. The story was a sensation. More importantly, it led to real reform.

She Changed Journalism Forever

Nellie Bly didn’t just write stories. She changed the game.

Before Bly, most women in journalism were relegated to the “women’s pages,” covering fashion, society events, or domestic advice. But Bly bulldozed through that boundary with the same determination she brought to everything. She took readers to the frontlines of social injustice, embedding herself in the worlds she covered with an immersive, gutsy style that was as shocking as it was effective.

Her investigative approach – what we now call undercover journalism – was virtually unheard of at the time. She didn’t wait for news to happen; she became the news to get to the truth. Her exposés on sweatshop labor, corrupt politicians, poor hospital conditions, and women’s mental health weren’t just headlines – they were catalysts for reform.

She also pioneered first-person reporting, giving journalism a personal, emotional angle that had previously been considered unprofessional or inappropriate. But Bly’s direct, often witty tone made her reports feel both intimate and urgent. In doing so, she blurred the line between reporting and storytelling, laying the foundation for modern feature journalism and narrative nonfiction.

It’s no stretch to say that her work paved the way for investigative icons like Ida B. Wells, Rachel Carson, and even today’s long-form reporters at ProPublica and The New York Times.

Oh – and she did all this while wearing a corset and a hat. Iconic.

The Race Begins: “Can I Go Around the World?”

By 1888, Bly had her eye on a bigger stunt. A much bigger stunt. Inspired by Jules Verne’s fictional journey, she proposed an idea to her editor at The World: let her travel around the world – alone – and try to beat Phileas Fogg’s fictional 80-day mark.

The response? Classic sexism.

As Bly later recalled, her editor told her, “It is impossible for you to do it. In the first place, you are a woman and would need a protector; and even if it were possible for you to travel alone, you would require so much baggage that it would detain you in making rapid changes.”

Bly’s response? She’d take a single bag, no chaperone, and prove them all wrong.

And she did. On November 14, 1889, Nellie Bly boarded the Augusta Victoria steamship in Hoboken, New Jersey. She carried a single small bag, £200 in gold and notes (roughly $5,000 at the time), and a wardrobe that could be described as “Paris, but practical.” She even brought a jar of cold cream.

How She Did It: Steamships, Trains, Elephants – Oh My!

Bly’s route was a logistical Rubik’s Cube. No GPS. No online booking. Just printed timetables, telegraphs, and pure improvisation. Her route took her through England, France (where she met Jules Verne himself, who cheered her on), Italy, the Suez Canal, Ceylon (modern-day Sri Lanka), Singapore, Hong Kong, and Japan, before crossing the Pacific to San Francisco and racing back to New York by train.

Along the way, she:

  • Sailed through a monsoon
  • Visited a leper colony
  • Bought a monkey in Singapore (as one does)
  • Survived seasickness, cultural clashes, language barriers, and, somehow, U.S. train delays

She had no smartphone, no WiFi, and no entourage – just iron will and a press pass. When one leg of her trip ran behind, Joseph Pulitzer (her boss at The World) chartered a private train to help her make up time across the American West.

She returned to New York on January 25, 1890, to thunderous applause. Total travel time: 72 days, 6 hours, 11 minutes. Phileas Fogg, eat your fictional heart out.

The Aftermath: Fame, Fortune… and Frustration

Her success was sensational. Bly became a global celebrity overnight. The World milked the story for every column inch it was worth, and readers devoured her serialized accounts. In 1890, she published Around the World in Seventy-Two Days, which sold briskly and sealed her place in journalistic legend.

But like many women of her time, Bly’s achievements were eventually brushed aside as the decades wore on. She continued to write, married millionaire industrialist Robert Seaman in 1895, and eventually took over his company, becoming one of the few female industrialists of the Gilded Age.

She even returned to war reporting during World War I, covering the Eastern Front as one of the first female war correspondents.

And yet… her name faded into obscurity, even as male adventurers were lionized for far less impressive feats.

Nellie Bly, Novelist? Oh Yes, She Did That Too

While Nellie Bly is best remembered for her boundary-breaking journalism, she also dipped a perfectly ink-stained toe into the world of fiction. During the 1880s and early 1890s, she wrote several serialized novels for publications like The New York Family Story Paper. These were dramatic, fast-paced tales full of plucky heroines, mysterious strangers, and just enough scandal to keep readers coming back for the next installment.

Among her most notable works are:

Though her fiction didn’t leave the same mark as her journalism, it was popular in its time and showed her range as a writer. These stories also offered something rare for the period: narratives written by a woman, starring bold female leads, and often carrying subtle critiques of the rigid gender norms of the era.

Between 1889 and 1895, Nellie Bly also penned twelve novels for The New York Family Story Paper. Thought lost, these novels were not collected in book form until their re-discovery in 2021.

  • Twins & Rivals (1895)
  • Eva The Adventuress (1889)
  • New York By Night (1890)
  • Alta Lynn, M.D. (1891)
  • Wayne’s Faithful Sweetheart (1891)
  • Little Luckie, or Playing For Hearts (1892)
  • Dolly The Coquette (1892)
  • In Love With A Stranger, or Through Fire And Water To Win Him (1893)
  • The Love Of Three Girls (1893)
  • Little Penny, Child Of The Streets (1893)
  • Pretty Merribelle (1894)

Bly’s fiction may not appear in many English lit syllabi today, but it’s a fascinating window into the era’s publishing world—and a reminder that Nellie Bly was, at heart, always a storyteller.

Why She Still Matters (And Always Will)

Today, Bly’s globe-trotting adventure might seem quaint – after all, you can book a round-the-world ticket with a few clicks. But let’s be real: in the 1880s, it was an unheard-of act of audacity for a woman to even suggest such a journey, much less complete it alone, without scandal, injury, or complaint.

She didn’t just travel the world. She dragged the possibilities for women’s independence along with her, like a trail of steam behind a locomotive. She proved that women weren’t just capable of bold, brave acts – they were already doing them, whether the world gave them credit or not.

And in journalism? She opened the floodgates. Every woman who’s ever chased a lead, told a difficult story, or asked a question that made powerful people uncomfortable – owes a nod to Nellie Bly.

Nellie Bly, the fearless journalist who circled the globe in 72 days, defied expectations and redefined what women - and reporters - were capable of.

Final Thoughts: The Adventure Is the Point

If Jules Verne gave us the fantasy, Nellie Bly gave us the reality.

Her story isn’t just about breaking records – it’s about breaking molds. It’s a story of saying “yes” when the world says “no,” of stepping onto the boat anyway, and of trusting that adventure favors the bold (and the organized).

So the next time someone tells you your dream is too big, too wild, or too far-fetched, channel your inner Bly.

Pack light. Go fast. Don’t wait for permission.

And maybe bring some cold cream. You never know.

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