When I recount these stories to friends nowadays, there’s one question in particular that comes up again and again: “Why did you keep going back?” Sometimes I try to answer it, but other times I dodge and instead laugh and mention that there were places in the camp that were too
Tag: writing
Why exactly was Camp Claiborne so wretched, and when did it start getting this way? For answers, let’s look to the history of the place. It’s hard to find detailed accounts of the land’s older history beyond what we can infer from archeology. To summarize what little I found, what’s now
One of my favorite Claiborne stories is one that makes me question why anyone would ever go out there with me again, especially the witnesses present for this one. You see, in deciding which stories to pull together for this, I’ve made a conscious decision to privilege things that happened to
Camp Claiborne attracted more than just partying or thrill-seeking teens. On my first trip out there, I was warned by the older kids about the more dangerous sorts who would also use these woods—criminals and cultists. Of course, I didn’t believe it. I figured it was just old rumors. But I
For a place that had so many seemingly impossible things happen in it, Camp Claiborne followed a surprising amount of rules. Or, at least, we followed the rules. One of the way its rules and ours came together was through a little game that we would play every single time we
When I was a freshman in high school, I was friends with seniors who let me in on their favorite partying spot. It was secluded, private, and—best of all—incredibly creepy. It was Camp Claiborne, a military base built for and discarded after World War 2, abandoned and left to be swallowed
If I had a penny every time someone pitched an idea at me to ask if I thought it had legs, I’d still not have enough to buy a soda (curse you, inflation!), but I’d still have a big mess of pennies to fit up and cram into a coin purse.
The first time I encountered the “Two Kinds of Writers” trope was in college, when a creative writing class I was in decided to bond, literarily speaking , by mutually looking down on those talentless, soulless hacks who use such a gauche thing as an *outline* to write their formulaic dreck.
*I was looking through the notes app on my phone, and I found this. I only have the vaguest recollection of jotting it down, but can only assume that it was very important and 100% true and accurate. Do with this info what you may. It has been presented in its
As strange as it may seem, given how governed by whims I am, I like having a *reason* for everything I do. I’m not saying it has to be a good reason, but I like there to be a reason that’s solid (at least, solid by my own—admittedly twisted—standards). It is