Ah, summer camp. The idea of summer camp appeals to me so much. A break from school and parents. Stargazing, canoeing, idolizing the counselors, sharing secrets by the campfire while you promise to be BEST FRIENDS FOREVER AND EVER AMEN with your crew.
So when I got a chance to write a book that included some flashbacks to summer camp (and some modern-day camping, too), I jumped at it.
The only problem was that, like many things I tend to get excited about, there’s fantasy and then there’s reality.
I only went to camp once. It was the Girl Scout variety. I think it was the summer between second and third grade. My friend Kim and I packed up our sleeping bags and bug repellant and headed for the north woods.
Things didn’t really go as planned. I missed my parents. I wasn’t nearly as good a swimmer as the other girls. I spent the whole time wracked with worry that someone was going to find out that I had the security blankie I still slept with secreted away in my sleeping bag. (My mom did an awesome ninja sleeping bag rolling thing to conceal it. But I still fretted.)
But the low point of camp came during the potato print making activity. Do you know about potato prints? They’re sort of like the high-carb, DIY version of a rubber stamp. You cut a potato in half and then carve around the image you want to show printed—so you’re carving out the negative space. (I, in my boundless creativity, chose to carve my first initial, “J”.) Then you coat your image with paint and stamp the whole thing on a piece of paper and—voila!—art!
Problem the first with potato print making was I had chosen a non-symmetrical letter to carve, and of course I forgot that I should have carved it backwards in order to get it to look normal in the print.
Problem the second with potato print making was that I chose red paint. So, having done my inaugural stamp and realizing that my “J” was backwards, I hied myself over the Deb, the Cool Counselor, to show her that I had messed up and ask if I might please have another potato, ma’am, just like I was starring as Waif #1 in a Dickens movie.
Deb the Cool Counselor did not give me another potato. Deb the Cool Counselor started screaming at the top of her lungs. Turns out she thought the red paint on my hands was blood. Which was a logical thing to think, I guess.
So…that was the end of potato print making. Most people didn’t get to print theirs. (I was superfast with my backwards bloody “J,” apparently.) It was all my fault. My fellow campers were not pleased. I slunk back to my bunk to sneak a covert cuddle with my blankie.
And that was the end of my summer camp experience.
I do, however, still enjoy potatoes.
About His Heart’s Revenge:
Twenty years ago, I was too smart and too poor to be cool. Now I’m laughing my way to the bank—the bank I’m CEO of. Nothing can touch me.
Except maybe him.
We met at summer camp. We made out under the stars. Then he stabbed me in the back.
They say revenge is a dish best served cold. But I’m gonna go with hot.
Alexander Evangelista is a millionaire with all the trappings: houses all over the world and hot guys lined up whenever he’s in need of some no-strings-attached company. He’s on his way to world domination.
A CEO in his own right, Cary Bell is competing for a major client with his boyhood crush. He’s never forgiven himself for betraying Alex. But with his professional reputation on the line, he’s going to have to find his inner cutthroat if he wants his new company to succeed.
Alex isn’t about to let his nemesis steal a client out from under him. It’s time to break Cary’s company—and his heart.
Jenny Holiday started writing at age nine when her fourth grade teacher gave her a notebook and told her to start writing stories. That first batch featured mass murderers on the loose, alien invasions, and hauntings. From then on, she was always writing, often in her diary, where she liked to decorate declarations of existential angst with nail polish teardrops. Later, she channeled her penchant for scribbling into a more useful format, picking up a PhD in geography and then working in PR. Eventually, she figured out that happy endings were more fun than alien invasions. You can follow her on Facebook, Twitter or visit her on the web at JennyHoliday.com.