Editor's Note by Elizabeth Langosy
The Summer Perils of a Bookworm
“Summertime” is a heavily weighted word, one that holds the promise of bliss and the sting of disillusionment.
Let’s talk about the classic American childhood, when the idea of “summer” is forever cemented in our heads as three months off from school for general leisure. I don’t recall ever distinguishing between those who got the summer off and those who didn’t. I never thought, “Poor Dad. He still has to go to work each day.”
My notion that summers were perpetually idyllic came to an end between second and third grade, when my parents sent me to overnight camp. Years later, they admitted that I was a tad young to be sent off like that. Maybe they’d hoped to inspire me to embrace the athletic, outdoorsy American lifestyle that I rebelled against even at age eight. As a private, bookish child, I found both the concept and experience of camp to be terrifying.
Five years later, I was once again sent to overnight camp—a different one, to which I was lured by the Busby Berkeley-esque promise of water ballet. With my knapsack full of books, I imagined spending my days acrobatically flitting through the pool and my evenings reading in a cozy cabin.
You may have already guessed that the camp offered water ballet only one afternoon per week, obligating me to spend most of my time in more gung-ho activities; that we slept in open, bug-filled tents; and that the tents had no lights. Worse yet, we were treated to campfire stories of Bigfoot, the very same Bigfoot who’d been seen lurking around the camp and had reportedly abducted a camper from the (also unlit) latrine.
In between those traumatic camp experiences, I had some enjoyable summers. I spent hours each day reading whatever I could get my hands on and writing stories, poems, plays, and meticulously researched newsletters. When I wasn’t hunkered over a book or pecking at an old manual typewriter, I stalked about in the overgrown, sunlit fields that surrounded our neighborhood or played flashlight tag with a gang of kids at night, darting from shrub to tree in the darkened yards.
My favorite summer memories were the times my family spent at an old farmhouse my grandparents bought in 1930—a house we still own. The house is set on a few dozen acres of land, some of it former farmland, much of it virgin forest. A stream runs past the house and another cuts through a gorge on the other side of the road. Although I hate camping out, I’ve always loved nature. As a child, I would go for long walks by myself or with my cousins in the surrounding hilly woods.
At night, it’s so dark you can clearly see shooting stars, orbiting satellites, and the spectacular spread of the Milky Way. Standing outside, you hear the sounds of deer and other animals as they pass on their way to the gully. Beyond, the house beckons, with lit lamps and cozy resting spots. During the day, you can read and drowse in Adirondack chairs under the tall maples my grandmother planted near the front door.
This, to me, is summer—not baseball, not beaches or campsites, not boating or hiking, just savoring the world around me at an old house on a country road.
When we asked TW editors and regular contributors to share their own favorite summer diversions, we weren’t sure what we’d get back. But we’re writers and readers here, so the bookish prevailed.
We didn’t receive any submissions about playing baseball, but we do have a lively review of a book on baseball quotes (written by a fellow unathletic type) and a piece about playing croquet. We offer an ode to junk food, an homage to erotica, and guides to fan fiction and indie computer games. We reveal our love of chick lit, NCIS, and Scrabble.
The Summer 2011 issue will run from June through August. We’re launching with a mix of personal essays, book reviews, and poems and will continue to publish new pieces throughout the summer.
Subscribe to Talking Writing, follow us at talkingwriting on Twitter, or “like” us on our Talking Writing Facebook page, and you’ll receive notification of each new offering as it publishes. We’ll also highlight the most recent TW updates on our main page.
But wait, there’s more!
We’re pleased to announce that we’re now offering TW merchandise through the Talking Writing Store at CafePress, including limited edition T-shirts and bags with “Talking Writing is my guilty pleasure” on the back.
Buying TW products helps support the work we do at Talking Writing. These fetching shirts, bags, and mugs will let everyone know you “talk writing,” get the word out about TW, and contribute needed funds to our efforts.
This summer, we know we’ll be wearing our TW shirts with pride—and raising our TW mugs—as we curl up with a whole variety of guilty pleasures.
So check back often, look for our exciting First Anniversary issue in September, and may your summertime be easy.
Table of Contents for the Summer 2011 Issue
Art Information
- "Farmhouse Living Room" and "Briggs Gulley" © Hadley Langosy; used by permission
- "The Farmhouse in July" © Elizabeth Langosy; used by permission
Elizabeth Langosy is executive editor of Talking Writing.
Free at last to do as she likes, she plans to spend the summer reading, gardening, going for long walks, and working on a collection of linked short stories.
