A while ago, I started plotting about how I could marry two things that I love:
kids and writing
writing and kids
I came up with the idea of Camp Long Story Short.
A week long creative writing camp where you use play and interactive lessons
to teach the important themes of writing..
like developing character....charting the hero's journey...perspective...the writer's voice, etc.
I thought about it. Talked to friends about it. Mulled it over.
And two years later...it is finally happening.
Sometimes dreams take a while to marinate.
The night before camp started I set up centers in our patio room and backyard.
A book corner.
An area for author posters.
A tiny camp tucked away in the garden to inspire young minds.
Jack had manufactured two gallons of bubbles for our bubble making area.
Along with filling a baby pool with bubble solution, a hula hoop and a stool so that each
young writer could experience what it was like to be encased in a giant bubble.
I got their baskets ready with their camp mug, composition books and pencils,
a blank book for their story and bubbles...everyone can use some bubbles.
I prepped our boys, "Okay, you guys, I am going to need all of your help for this to work."
Scott was my back up adult in case of emergencies. Jack was my co-teacher.
Will was a junior helper and Addie was a participant.
They said they were in. Even though Will and Addie could care less about writing stories.
Even though Scott had sermon prep and webinars in the works.
They were willing to do what had to be done to help me out.
Sometimes dreams take an all hands on deck approach.
And I prayed. Three important prayers.
"God, let us have some fun...let us learn something....and don't let anyone die."
The last one was especially important. No one wants to die at camp.
Sometimes dreams need a little prayer covering.
Okay...dreams always need a little prayer covering.
And then it happened.
Camp Long Story Short.
7 campers. 2 helpers. 5 days. 15 hours. 25 activities. Lots of snacks.
We had fun. We laughed. We bubbled.
We dreamed. We wrote. We created.
And no one died. Thank you, Jesus.
On Friday our young authors read their stories to a proud
audience of parents and grandparents.
and then celebrated with home made ice cream.
Because sometimes...dreams are a whole lot of fun.