FatLand – The Early Days

As promised, I will be writing the first draft of the next volume in the FatLand series here – FatLand, The Early Days.

FatLand – The Early Days


The sun had set. It was a cooling Colorado dusk, and two of the men had gotten a campfire going.  A few of them giggled as they toasted marshmallows.

“Takes me back to summer camp,” Angela said as she speared one of the sticky golden brown globes and popped it into her mouth.

“Oh come on, Ange, you hated summer camp,” Ronnie said as she put a marshmallow on a twig and centered it into the fire.

“I didn’t hate camp, exactly,” Angela said somewhat indistinctly as she chewed. “I hated some of the people and some of the counselors. The ones who made me feel guilty.”

“Considering summer camps in the USA,” Darren said as he dipped a twig in the fire, then extracted it, “That could be said of about 99.9% of them.”

“We should have our own camp,” Brenton said. He swung a twig back and forth. Reaching for a chilled bottle of white wine, he uncorked it and poured some into a plastic glass.

“That,” Angela said, “is not a bad idea. Our own summer camp, but 365 days a year. The way it should have been.”

“How would that work?” Evan asked. He was lying down near Ronnie, who was feeding him marshmallows as she ate.

“We get land,” Brenton said. “Charter and permits. Sanitation gets put in. We build bungalows and such.”

“Hey,” Charla said, “this is sounding more like a country now.”

“We start it as a camp,” Brenton said. “Then we take it further.”

“I can’t imagine what it would be like,” Ronnie said. “To have our own camp and not have to worry about people calling us names while we’re walking or eating  or playing.”

“I can imagine,” Brenton said. “Only like heaven, that’s all.”


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