Monthly Archives: June 2015
Ahhh, summer camp. We take the bus out to the idyllic woods and either you get off at Camp Plotter, flying it’s very well-constructed flag, or Camp Pantster, flying, well, someone’s pants. The two camps get along reasonably well. Sometimes … Continue reading
Books are parasites. They live inside us. Growing. Feeding off us. And, sometimes, they can make their authors crippled with fear. I know that sounds harsh, but I mean it in the nicest way possible.