Writing Camps
MegaZine
The Cabin is a Boise, Idaho literary arts organization. We forge community through the voices of all readers, writers, and learners. Writing Camps nurture the imagination and awaken the senses through creative adventures in the art of writing.
This is an imprint of The Cabin.
801 South Capitol Boulevard, Boise, Idaho 83702 (208) 331-8000
TheCabinIdaho.org
(c) 2025 The Cabin All rights reserved.
Book design by Adie Bartron
2025 MegaZine Summer Writing Camps
Introduction
Chris Mathers Jackson | Teaching-writer
Dear Reader,
You are about to embark on a journey. Prepare yourself. A riot of images and ideas await you in the pages that follow. Like any voyage, you’ll encounter entirely new things alongside the familiar. You can expect to find wild inventions, meditative reflections, soft lines, playful words, among other fantastic creations. I encourage you, reader, to approach these pages like any traveller: be curious, open-minded, and in no rush to reach the end.
Over the course of the summer, third- through ninth-graders from across the Treasure Valley (and beyond) boldly created during their week-long Cabin camps. Whether they explored and reflected in the Boise foothills during Nature Writers, allowed image, color and line to guide them in Picture This, or wandered and wrote about the heart of the city in Urban Ink, each camper applied their unique vision to the works included herein. Campers wrote poetry and experimented with perspective. Vivid images–both visual and literary–filled the pages of their camp notebooks. Each camper accumulated a small body of work during their week of Cabin camp. Ultimately, each camper boldly selected a piece to showcase here, to share with you.
As a teaching writer, I am privileged to witness these young people’s creative process firsthand. Each piece begins with a spark followed by a willingness, on the part of the camper, to follow the idea and see where it leads them. The process demands courage and sometimes takes campers to unexpected places. The pieces included in this book embody each camper’s creative journey. Herein, you’ll see how an idea, when given attention and care, comes to life. I am excited for you to share the experience that we teaching writers witness each day of Cabin camp; dive in and see what these campers’ ideas become.
This anthology presents a snapshot of each camper’s creative process during their week at Cabin camp. As such there is no right way to read this collection. Settle in and read cover to cover. Open at random and absorb what you find. Pick a different page each day to admire. However you approach these pages, delightful inventions await you.
TREES
Evalyn White | Grade 8, Boise
From the cold sea to the Hottest desert,
The trees lay in between, With magnificent seeds.
So tall they shall Never fall.
So perfect, so green, Always will be clean.
The sap so sweet It’s so good to eat.
The trees will always be Amazingly great for me.
LEAVES
Avery Lodge | Grade 4, Boise
A Green
An orange A yellow a Red this is All colors of Leaves. Some are BIG some are small But there’s room for all. Some Are crunchy some are not But I got one like no other. I got a smooth, a medium, a nice Light touch of some green some Orange some yellow and Some red. I woke up and It was dead. I went Out to find one like It but … there was none. But Something Caught My eye It was The
I HOPE YOU FLY HIGH
Edie Friedewald | Grade 4, Boise
I hope you fly high, like a bird
Kind and sweet, with its tweet
Soft and dirty like the sand,
Known throughout the land
Blue or brown dark or mean it is everything
In the sky or on the ground everything I hope you fly high everywhere any time
WATER
Edie Friedewald | Grade 4, Boise
SUSPICIONS
Sophia Hoglund-Peariso | Grade 4, Boise
One normal day in the English countryside, a long, long time ago, Charlotte was walking in the forest. Charlotte was your ordinary fourth grader. She lived in a small, old cottage in the countryside with her mother, Sarah, and her dad, David. Her dad had a job working in a factory, east of London.
Charlotte looked up and saw Madaline, a new girl, who she thought was kind of creepy. Charlotte thought back to when their teacher, Mrs. Baker, had introduced her in the middle of the year. Now it was April, and the middle of spring. When Mrs. Baker asked her where she lived and who her parents/guardians were, she fainted! Normally a parent would pick her up, but she insisted on walking home.
“I love your dress,” Madaline said.
Charlotte looked down at her red, velvety dress and said, “Thanks.”
She thought, at least she’s nice and looked up. Madaline was gone. She reached into her pocket and pulled out her pocket watch. It was silver and had faux gold lettering. It was almost dinnertime!
She ran back to her old, homey cottage, untied her shoes, and walked to the dinner table. She smelled her mom, Sarah, making her signature lasagna. She always loved the gooey sauce, the yummy noodles. Soon the two of them were sitting at the dinner table, eating.
Her mom said, “Sweetie, dad’s working late tonight.”
“Okay,” Charlotte said, not really listening.
Soon Charlotte was going to bed. Her mom tucked her into bed and said, “Good night.” In her dream, Charlotte saw Madaline and her mom telling her, “Your suspicions are real.” Her mom had on a black crown with green gems. She woke up in the morning.
Her mom yelled, “Get up!”
At school, Charlotte told Madaline about her dream. She said, “Dude! I am literally from New Jersey. And I fainted because I was nervous.”
“Oh!” Charlotte said, kind of embarrassed.
EYEBALL
Sophia Hoglund-Peariso | Grade 4, Boise
NATURE
Maddy Fountain | Grade 5, Boise
Blooming flowers all Around, grass is growing on the ground. Ferns are moving swiftly in the wind wind, brushing my arm and smooth skin. My hair blowing in the breeze, growing plants and many trees. Lots of birds gracefully sing, there’s a lot of things that nature brings.
A WATER DAY
Maddy Fountain | Grade 5, Boise
Splashing and laughing in puddles all day. Rocks and sticks will guide the way. Rain drops falling into my hand, Out on the rocks And into the sand. Twirling around in the rain and playing in the river is no pain. I have fun all day in the sun. Splashing and laughing in puddles all day, I will guide the way.
DRAGONFLY
Camille Masse | Grade 4, Boise
Once upon a time there was a town. In that town there were dragons, but a war was going to happen. Now this story begins.
One thousand years later
Yaaawwwnnnnn… Oh hi! My name is Booky. You probably heard a war is going to happen, and I am part of it! I am really scared. Either way, I am getting made fun of. Everybody thinks I am a dragonfly. That’s a really funny word, right? Hey! Who was that?
“Hey, dragonfly.” Ugh. That’s one of the bullies. They are going into the war too. Oh! Everybody’s getting ready!
I was saving this up. I am a fire dragon. I don’t need weapons. That’s because I can blow fire. So let’s start!
Oh wait, it’s bedtime. I better go to bed. Good night. Oh wait, the war is not until Friday. And I need to practice. What am I going to do? Well…. Blow! I just burnt a whole forest! Now I’m tired. Wait, if I just burnt a whole forest then I can win the war. I’m not supposed to say this, but I might be the king. So cool, right? Or I might just get a crown. This is awesome!!!
But I need to eat. I’m going to a bakery. I’m getting a donut. Now I’m going to the lake to take a bath. Oh, wait, I’m a fire dragon. So I need to take a refill. Hum bum bum. Oh! The first store. Slurrrrrp. Done with the refill. Ooopps, I lost a tooth! I have to go to the dentist…
Ok, done with that now. Now, let’s continue with the war. I have a friend named Newt. Funny name, right? He is going to the war too. I don’t know why. Oh no, I need to go to work! My job is art. Now hurry. Huff puff huff puff huff puff huff puff.
Geez, we are so far away from work: thirty more minutes. Oh no! The war. BLOW! Wow!
The End
LEAVES
Josie Niederklein | Grade 4, Boise
SUMMER
Madeline Jenkins | Grade 5, Boise
One summer day, I went to Ivy Wild. I felt happy and calm as I ate my cotton candy shredded ice. Then I went to take the swim test. I was feeling a little nervous. I could smell the water waiting for me. I saw the little ripples waving to me. Then all of a sudden it was my turn. I jumped in. It was cold. I swam across the pool and back. I passed. I was thrilled. I walked up to go down a drop slide. I stood still for seconds. As I saw the people going down, I told myself, “I can do this.” I stood in the line. Then, when it was my turn, I saw the water going fast. The drop was really high. I put on my goggles and went down. When I popped my head out of the water, I said to myself, “That was so fun.” And I did it over and over again.
THE
END
FOOTHILLS
Madeline Jenkins | Grade 5, Boise
THE ROCK
Pavan Kannan | Grade 5, Boise
The rock is patient waiting for its time through days it is strong enduring the pain of getting thrown off a cliff, falling down, down, down. Crack!
THE LEAF
Sage Wilcox | Grade 4, Boise
TWILIGHT SKY
Hendrix Holly | Grade 5, Nampa
When the sun sets you come on out when night falls you sprout your wings so far and wide even the night-time sky can see you fly high in the midnight sky. How you glide as an owlet and fly high when you’re an adult. The times you fell and now like the midnight sky you will always let you fly and glide and your wings will glide in the midnight sky tonight.
SHADOW
Hendrix Holly | Grade 5, Nampa
If I were a peregrine falcon
I would fly high in the sky
And look for prey all day until the ray of the midnight time. To go to the nest, I’d be like a shadow. All today then to look for prey I would try quail and sparrows. I think they
would taste like arrows. When I see one I would go high in the sky and dive down and stoop and eat and with each bite scoop a new bite. If I were a peregrine
I would dive high, fly in the sky, and look for prey and eat all day.
THE PRINCE AND THE OWL
Chloe Wang | Grade 5, Boise
Green grass. Sun shining. I felt today was the day. I am a mouse, what you would call a special mouse. I’m white with black and brown spots. I’m also the prince of my mouse kingdom.
Today I felt something was going to happen because it was my . . . birthday! Yay! I was buzzing with excitement. The only thing that might go wrong today was IT might come. Everyone that is a mouse knows the It. Now I’ll tell you who the It is. A GreatHorned Owl! He gives death to us mice. He is the biggest predator that we know of.
In the night he comes and takes a bunch of our mice and then just leaves! Next morning we discover about five of our mice have disappeared. Geez! Plus he is so silent like you can mistake him for some cool night breeze.
So, today I prayed to the Mouse God that he wouldn’t come and ruin everything, literally.
“Prince Edmund!” (Yeah, that is my name), a deep voice shouted. I scurried over to see who was calling me. It was my father, and he looked red and flustered. He said, “We were going to plan you a fabumouse birthday, but last night the royal guards were owlnapped! Just a few minutes ago, It sent me a ransom note. It says, ‘I, the great owl, I have taken your mouse folk and the only thing I will return them for is your son, Edmund.’”
I stared at my father, shocked. “S-So, will you do it?” I asked in a trembling squeaky voice.
My father looked troubled. But then he smiled. “Of course not. We’ll just go on with the day. We’ll still have your birthday too.”
After I had my birthday breakfast of corn, nuts, blueberries, and fresh water, I went for a birthday walk. I was enjoying myself, skipping and whistling. Then I realized I was under It’s tree. The warm summer day suddenly turned cold. I shuddered and immediately walked a different direction. Then I heard something. A gentle breeze. As I walked on, I realized the breeze was following me! I looked around and squeaked the loudest most terrifying squeak in my life. The Great-Horned Owl was right behind me, gliding closer and closer, opening his beak wide, his talons outstretched.
I scurried away as fast as my little paws would take me. I was done for sure. I was almost out of breath and ready to give up when I saw it. My savior, a big, fat bush!
I quickly dived under it out of harm’s reach. I stayed in the sagebrush, panting, and praying the owl would go away. After a few minutes, I crawled out and scurried back to my palace.
When I got home, everyone ran to me. “Where have you been?” my father was asking while my mother was clinging to me, crying with relief.
I explained about my walk and the owl and running away.
When I was done telling them what happened, my mother said, “Now, go get clean. Your fur is all tangled. Your party is about to start!” my mother said.
My party! I had forgotten about it. I quickly showered and the salon mice made my fur very nice. I went to the Great Hall where my party was hosted. It was awesome. I got a great pile of gifts and the nut cake was delicious.
Then it happened. It, the Great-Horned Owl, came soaring by and saw us. A bunch of yummy mice. He stopped and stared at us. (To be continued . . .)
IF I WERE AN OWL
Georgina Marshall | Grade 5, Boise
If I were a barn owl
I would not scowl
I would fly and soar
Like an airplane I would
Spin my head in a full circle
I would eat a delicious
Mouse then return to my
House in the night I would
Be quite the fright
If I were an owl it
Would be just right.
THE GRAY LONELY SKIES
Charlotte Mitchell | Grade 5, Boise Chapter 4
“Hey, who goes there?” You hear a loud voice say clearly that you should be on your way.
“Run, go through the portal. Be free!” You run and yell to all the birds of prey. All the birds make a run for it. Then the portal closes.
A shadowy figure grabs you. You wake up in a jail like a chamber. “I need to tell the government about this.” You got out a paper and pencil and wrote:
Dear Politicians,
Our fellow birds of prey need to be cared for. They have no faith unless given. Please help! They all have unique features that can help us. Your friend, Anonymous
“Hey, what are ya doing?” asked Jimmy the mouse.
“Writing a letter to the government,” you replied.
“Jimmy, I will eat you if you are not quiet,” yelled Owl.
“OK, I’ll be quiet as a mouse. HA HA HA, get it?” Jimmy exclaimed so loud that the guards heard.
“Oh, no, OK, Ligh, get on Owl, and Jimmy, get on me. We have to go!” whispered Bob the Peregrine falcon getting ready to fly. “3,2,1, GO!” yelled everyone, including you.
“Hey, get back in!” one of the guards yelled, pushing you in the wrong chamber.
“Hello?!” a vulture said in a suspicious voice.
“Who are you?” you tried to yell but it came out as a whisper.
“I’m a Vulture!” the vulture sang in a musical voice.
“You like singing? So do I,” you said, hoping not to get eaten.
Noticing the fear in your eyes, the vulture said, “Oh, don’t worry. I only eat pre-killed food. My name is Vera. What is yours?”
(To be continued . . .)
LONG EARS
Anthony Pantera | Grade 5, Boise
If I were a long-eared owl I would eat mice whole I would have long tufts called ears I would look big I would look small I would give an unrecognizable call I would have a broken wing then it’s not I would feel the nest I was defending.
CLAW AND TALON
Rowan Cullen-Cannon | Grade 5, Boise
Chapter 1
“Berry! Berry! Wake up! Today we get to learn to stoop!”
Berry woke with a start. My brother Ice, Berry thought. She could just make out Ice’s plumage through the darkness; pure white with two brown dots on the back of his head.
Ice said he would eat her piece of kill and give her the bones if she didn’t get up, so Berry stumbled out of the nest, sunlight piercing her eyes.
On one side of Berry, there was a forest full of rustling trees. On the other side a dropdown cliff. Behind her was the egg safe, the warm nest in a hollow, guarded from the wind. When the sun was at its highest point, they set off.
Berry tottered up to the brim of the cliff.
“Have you mastered the third eyelid trick?” asked Sandyred, the best trick Peregrine falcon in the whole tribe of the sky.
Down below, a mouse was rummaging through the bushes. Berry and Ice had launched themselves, and sadly for that mouse, Berry had spotted him.
The mouse, on the other hand, had no idea that a young Peregrine falcon was after him.
Berry circled above the bushes, keeping her eyes fixed on the mouse. She circled higher and higher until the time was right.
She stooped!
Air whisked around Berry so hard her eyes went dry. So she blinked on her third eyelid. The mouse looked up and saw the creature of his nightmares soaring down, right at him! A beady-eyed killing monster! The mouse squeaked in terror and tried to run into the bushes, but Berry had already caught and killed him.
That night Berry ate the mouse she had killed. It was amazing. The mouse tasted like five ducks all in one, and she loved ducks!
That night, Berry thought she heard a sound, a bad, ominous sound . . .
(To be continued . . .)
OWL DREAM
Erwin Liao | Grade 4, Boise
Owl, sleepy in her warm nest, falls asleep and falls into a dream, gliding above a forest, finds a fat, plump, tasty mouse. Owl dives down and eats the mouse. It is perfect—warm and soft. Owl thinks this would make a good business, finds a lot more fat, plump mice, and opens the Fat Plump Mice Store. Owl’s business is so successful, she becomes rich. Suddenly, Owl wakes up, is hungry, and spots a mouse.
LUCY THE VULTURE
Anthony Ogas | Grade 4, Boise
Standing on a perch of wood, wings flapping loudly, takes off to find prey.
Diving down head-first, having friends to have company, smelling rotten prey.
Life waddles on in the cage, showing wings of scavengers— Lucy’s looking as beautiful as before.
Tasting prey as if it’s cake, waddling and walking while flapping, standing strong through harsh weather.
Feels like feathers, but like fur, bright pink as paint and flowers, both sides strong.
LETTER TO GRAYSON
Kelvin Liao | Grade 3, Boise
Dear Grayson,
As a harpy eagle, what do you get? How old are you? Do you get to fly outside? Are you happy with your life? Would you rather have another harpy eagle or stay alone?
Dear Human,
I get to fly sometimes outside. I’m sixteen years old. I would not want another harpy eagle because my enclosure is too small. I eat sloths, monkeys, and sometimes small birds.
THE WHISPER
Ella Jung | Grade 3, Meridian
Barred owl flying in the sky. Her name is Whisper. She flies in the sky very quiet, also can camouflage very well.
As you know, her habitat is the forest all over the USA. Why does she live in the forest? That I told you—camouflage. But like every day, Whisper is quiet like she whispers. Shhh.
NATURE WORLD
Zoe Hwang | Grade 4, Meridian
Nature is beautiful. Tall, sturdy rocks as hard as a diamond. Cold rain as cold as ice. Wet, moist leaves as wet as water. Roaring, tumbling waterfall as loud as a screech owl. But as soon as you stop caring, all will end.
ODE TO HARPY EAGLE
Sutton Bennett | Grade 4, Boise
The harpy eagle is the best. Its beak is as sharp as a knife, and its wings are as big as a curved mountain. Its talons are as dark as a cloudy day. Its wing color is a dark black. Its head has a crown the color of gravel. Love you, harpy eagles!
MY QUESTIONS
Alexandra Mitchell | Grade 3, Boise
Dear Griffin,
Griffin, the bird soaring through the sky, how’s the flight every day and the flight every night? Do you ever want to give up or want to stop? How’s a juicy mouse or grasshopper? How’s your life? Griffin, please tell me!
Dear Human,
The flight is usually always very good except in the winter. That’s bad. And yes, I, too, sometimes want to give up, but everyone knows that giving up is just when you’re scared, and when you’re scared, that’s just a reason to try harder. Anyway, mice are so good. They’re the best. Oh, but grasshoppers are even better. They’re so delicious and yummy.
Bye bye! Love, your favorite hawk, Griffin.
ODE TO PRETZEL
Caroline Monroe | Grade 3, Meridian
Pretzel is funny and cute. His wings are as fluffy as a cloud. His beak is as tiny as a hummingbird egg. He is as silly as a squirrel. Pretzel makes me feel happy because of his excited personality.
A HAWK HUNT
Moose Lane | Grade 4, Meridian
One day, there was a bunny. He was in his home. He came out to eat breakfast. Suddenly, a hawk dove down and grabbed him! The hawk took him to his nest. The bunny did not want to be eaten and tried to get away, but he knew he would be eaten. Once the hawk got to the nest, he started ripping the bunny apart. The hawk fed the bunny to its chicks. The hawk ate some leftovers. Then the hawk left, and a turkey vulture came and ate the rest with her friends. They ate the rest of the leftovers and left.
THE BARN OWL
Isla Bennett | Grade 3, Boise
Salix the barn owl was mysterious, but why she was mysterious was because she had a heart-shaped face. Other owls have circle faces. Barn owls are usually found on barns. Barn owls are cool. I wish I was one.
CG
Owen Butterfield | Grade 4, Boise
Cheatgrass, why do you stick to people on their socks and pants? How does it feel to be weeded and torn up? Does it hurt? Do you like to be with friends? Do you like to be around other plants? Why do you destroy the habitat? Why are you such a jerk?
Well human, I just get nervous and stick to people. It does hurt a lot, and I hate it. I love to be with friends. Have you seen how many of us there are? I do not like to be around other plants. I AM NOT DESTROYING HABITAT AND I AM NOT A JERK!!!
ODE TO ISLA
Jaya Bergset | Grade 3, Boise
Isla is amazing and welcoming and very kind. I love her because she is lovely and makes me laugh. That is why I think she is awesome. I think that I should compare Isla to a barn owl because they are both very beautiful and graceful. They both are smart, kind, and friendly.
THE FAMILY
Chloe Wang | Grade 5, Boise
The herb so green and bright has many family members. Each of the green leaves represents mother, father, and sisters. They all have a bumpy texture, for sometimes they are mad, but beautiful they are with lines of patterns for each and every one. For my sisters, sassy teens, they are always talking about going to the mall. Some lines are necklaces on them, some are bracelets. The mom and dad, hearts so big, protect the new born in the middle. All of which are in one strong family branch. But when the sisters leave for their college, a lot of joy is gone. Our big family branch is missing two leaves, but their spicy sweetness is always left behind with us.
LOOK AND SEE
Izzy Pankau | Grade 6, Pocatello, ID
Sharp, rigid from up to down, heavy and long.
Smells of salty water, feels smooth and hard.
Drops quickly. Soft noises, a scrape, a rub, falls in the ground like a harpoon.
Ripples in the water But in cream and orange.
Tall, tall, and sharp. The taste of the sea.
Like an old friend to a crab or a mollusk. A safe place to call home.
Hold it in your hand. You’ll see, how a shell can be sharp, rigid, heavy, and long.
How a shell can be smooth or hard, a scrape, a rub, a harpoon, yet cream, and orange.
How a shell can be tall and cold.
How a shell can be a home.
All these things a shell can be. So take a look and see, and see, and see.
LOST HERBS
Katherine Elliott | Grade 6, Boise
Soft and thick, grains of velvet cascade between my fingers, slipping, sliding, so smooth it feels like a cool breeze from over the tips of mountains. Soothing and whispering, mysterious and unsuspecting. Scent thick with herbs, rich with depth. Smells of a lost Arab kingdom, people of cocoa skin, draped cloth, camels crossing blood red sand dunes of scorching heat. Eyes dark with unknown hardships, forgotten memories. Sound of waves returning to the sea, no longer scary. Brooms sweeping up dirt from ages and ages ago. Closure. The end of a story. The last word of a book.
WHAT TO DO IN MINECRAFT
Eleanor Medley | Grade 5, Boise
Eat 500 cakes. Put on pants. Dye your hair gray. Sleep at night. Befriend a rat. Grow a tail. Chicken dance 500 times. Make 500 pants. Spawn 500 chickens. Discover a sewer. Turn into a TMNT. What to do in Minecraft.
GONE
Anya
Saxler | Grade 5, Boise
Prologue
When I woke, I could hear my parents talking. I crept down the stairs and could hear them talking about the news. That was normal, but then I realized they were talking about people like my best friend, Josie. We had been friends since Pre-K, where we met. I ran into the room.
“Mirable!” my mom shouted, sounding surprised.
“Mom, why are you talking about Josie?” I asked.
“Well,” my father said, sounding sorry. “She’s gone.”
“WHAT DO YOU MEAN, GONE?” I shouted, almost crying.
“We don’t know, honey,” said Dad.
How could they not know! For the rest of the day, I wouldn’t talk to them. I know it wasn’t their fault, but I was angry. That night I went to sleep thinking it would all be normal again.
Chapter 1
Ring, ring! I hated that alarm clock. What time was it? Did I have to wake up? I muffled my ears with the pillow. Then I remembered what had happened yesterday. Was it just a bad dream?
I looked at my clock. It was 8:00. Wait, what? It was 8:00. School was starting soon! I ran downstairs and I could smell burning toast. Then I saw Mom.
“Honey, where are you going?” Mom asked me. “There’s no school today because of the disappearings.”
“Oh, there’s been more than one disappearing?”
“Yes, honey. You won’t have school until they figure out what’s happening.”
I wandered back up to bed. What would I do without Josie around? And then I had an idea. But first, disgusting toast for breakfast.
(To be continued . . .)
THE RIVER BANK ALL YEAR ROUND
Ellie Martin | Grade 5, Boise
The river dances slowly but flows so quickly, to the tunes of the breeze and the chirps of birds on the river bank. As butterflies fly over and the deer eat the berries, so swiftly the river flows while the flowers bloom quickly, to the tunes of the breeze and the chirps of the birds on the river bank. The sun shimmers on the water on the early warm summer day, to the tunes of the breeze and the chirps of the birds on the river bank. The leaves fall and the river slows. The birds build bigger nests and the breeze speeds up.
THE MIDNIGHT RIDDLE
Leora Davidson-Slichter | Grade 6, Placerville, ID
Yip, yelp, and nip,
Our pups are so playful!
You may know our cousins, but I don’t think we’ve met. They are gray; we are brown. They are big, and we are smaller. (I think so, because we have never met.)
Leap, prowl, and snap!
We hunt in a pack. No prey can escape!
We eat large prey, and our jaws are strong. We live in India and large grasslands and forests.
Snore, pap, and stagger.
The day is done, and now it’s time for you to guess. What are we?
(Answer: Indian wolves)
FREAKY AS A FOX
Sagan Davis | Grade 5, Boise, ID
THE GREAT STORM
Isabel Brittsan | Grade 6, Boise, ID
TO SEA SURFACE
Adam Bradshaw | Grade 5, Boise, ID
NATURE
Ashlyn Ragsdale | Grade 5, Eagle
MOTHER’S LOVE
Ayla Ragsdale | Grade 7, Eagle
THE THIEF
Chase Hull | Grade 5, Boise
THE RAVEN
Eleanor Olson | Grade 5, Boise
THE SHARK
Ellis Payne | Grade 5, Redlands, CA
SLOTH FOR PRESIDENT
Augustus Hume | Grade 4, Boise
WAVES
Henry Haugland | Grade 5, Boise
THE SELF PORTRAIT OF ME
Oakley Hume | Grade 5, Boise
THE BAMBOO
Olin Vega | Grade 5, Boise
DREAM OF A ROSE
Esther Prince | Grade 7, Boise
Chapter 1
Nova trotted down a silent human-made path in the forest. Her paws scuffed up dust. Her ceramic rose necklace jingled against her neck. The rose was ceramic, but the string that held it was made of moonbeams. Moonbeams crafted by elves. Every flower wolf had their gem flower strung on by moonbeams. Each flower started ceramic, but after the Moon Ceremony, the ceramic flowers would turn into precious stones that resembled each wolf’s flower. Nova was on her way there now. She felt extremely nervous though. No one in the entire flower wolf history had gotten a rose as their flower. What if that meant her flower wouldn’t turn into a gem? She gulped. Attempting not to think about this, she walked on and tried to think of other things. Like what a nice day it was. And, how hungry she was. Nova remembered she wasn’t supposed to eat until the ceremony was over. She groaned. There were so many delicious scents in the air. Fresh honey, and sukhi berries, and Jarkin leaves, and lots more good stuff to eat. Just as long as nothing gets too close to my mouth, Nova thought. I’ll have nothing to worry about. Just then a rabbit hopped past her path. It seemed to be in rather a hurry. It had a white, fluffy, beautiful coat of fur. Quick as a flash, Nova had caught the rabbit between her teeth. It squeaked in alarm, struggling to get free. Nova was about to clamp her jaws down on the rabbit, when she stopped short, and released the rabbit out of her teeth. The rabbit skittered away into the dense undergrowth surrounding the path.
To be continued.
Esther Prince | Grade 7, Boise
ARTIST’S NOTE
Allison Cantlon | Grade 8, Eagle
First of all, Melody is not an OC; this is just fan art. (I guess?) While coming up with this title, I tried to say everything I wanted to say in only a few words, but that didn’t work. I am now deciding to say it all here, so bear with me for a moment. Hello, reader. I am the voice actress for Melody Sassaman from the YouTube series: The Mind Crackers. (No one watches it.) This pose is recreated from a scene in episode 3 when the characters say quotes. If you have read this far, congrats, you in fact did bear with me. Thank you for your time, and I hope that I did well with this piece of art (considering I’m not good at art). However, the question still remains, is this fan art, or canon?
THE VOICE’S DEPICTION
Allison Cantlon | Grade 8, Eagle
SELF PORTRAIT
Brynn Hobbs | Grade 9, Boise
HORIZON LINE
Elin Payne | Grade 8, Redlands, CA
DAFFODILS
Rehema Sadiki | Grade 9, Boise
COMPLETE CHAOS
Viviane Peterson | Grade 7, Boise
MEEP MORP
Kiera Black | Grade 7, Boise
STEROID STANLEY YEAR 2
Max Wyatt | Grade 10, Boise
SUNSET SELFIE
Harlow Nasser | Grade 8, Boise
SEUSS
Liza Galitsyna | Grade 8, Boise
DAY 1
Calliope Kittrell | Grade 7, Las Vegas
12/23/2025—
My name is Maya Thomas. I’m a reporter in Chicago. Most reports are normal crimes, events, etc. The most recent report I’ve been working on for months:
Dante Vexmore, a popular hero here in the city. His smile hypnotizes everyone. The amount of destruction he causes yearly is insane! One time, he even knocked over the Chicago Bean!
I’ve asked multiple people their thoughts on him, but they mostly say:
“He’s so amazing!”
“Picture perfect.”
“What do you have against him?”
So far nothing has been revealed.
REMEMBERING
Laina Williams | Grade 7, Boise
Our car pulls onto the street and heads back home after dropping my older sister Brynley off at college. I’m starting to miss her already. But of course I’m happy for her: she got into one of the most prestigious colleges. Bing!
A message from Brynley pops up on my lock screen. It’s a monkey emoji. Probably just to say I’m a monkey. But it brings up memories of when we walked to the park seven years ago, and I was pretending to be a monkey on the monkey bars. Totally normal, a six year old playing pretend. I fell off and broke my wrist, but Brynley comforted me and carried me home, even though I could still walk. Some memories aren’t so sweet, like when she cut my hair while I was asleep before the first day of first grade. I had to cut it short so it wasn’t uneven. She got grounded for three weeks.
I’m Kinsley. I have dirty blonde hair, bright blue eyes and freckles all over my nose and cheeks. It’s a six-hour drive to Brynley’s college, so I’m wearing sweats and a hoodie with my hair in a claw clip shaped like an 8 ball. We stop for burgers when we get back in the car. I try and get some sleep. It’s a long car ride back home.
QUESTIONS IN A CITY
Nora Jackson | Grade 8, Boise
a city is a million bustling bodies speeding feet beating hearts sometimes I look outside and wonder what are they all beating for? What are they all thinking about? What drives them What scares them Who are they Who am I because why should I wonder about the collective “them” without knowing the answer to any of my questions for myself because every person is a person within themselves I don’t know if this makes any sense at all it sure doesn’t make sense to me.
If each person’s an individual, then why are we all so connected? And what is it that connects us all at all?
maybe I’ll know all these answers someday, in another city, at another time, it’ll make so much sense
sometimes I look outside and wonder this but most days I look out and think of something small or nothing at all
MARCH
Madeleine Brown | Grade 8, Boise
Tulips topped with frosty caps adorn the streets and the sky so dull only yesterday gleams a bright blue the light of the sun reflects off the tulips on a small little side road everything around you goes perfectly still and the wind stops whistling in your ears until all you can hear is the water behind you can’t quite see the mountains are a strong violet same as the flowers next to the tulips who forgot of the frost and were shocked by their snow hats.
THE TALE OF TWO PASTRIES
Eve Wald | Grade 7, Boise
As we walk into the coffee shop my wife says she loves me. Sadly I haven’t felt the same in years. Right before we place our orders, I get a text. “Do you still want to get the divorce papers?” It’s my lawyer. I quickly put my phone back in my pocket so Georgiane doesn’t ask questions. Now it’s the moment I’ve been dreading.
“What can I get you two today,” the cashier says dryly. He looks like he doesn’t get paid enough to care.
“A cappuccino and a croissant.” That’s my wife.
“One decaf mocha and a raspberry turnover.” And that’s me. The problem is obvious. Two lovers with different favorite pastries. We never will work out. We sit down, and just as I’m about to break the news, a girl is ranting about books. Soon we get back to our conversation. “Georgiane,” I manage, “We’re over. We like different pastries. We can never be together.”
“George Georgeman!” my wife yells. “Thirty years of marriage and you’re ending it over a pastry.”
“Yes,” I say in despair.
“George, think about it,” she cries, “Please, I beg you.” I walk out without another word.
Two weeks later the divorce is final. Soon I end up liking croissants more than turnovers. Two years later and I haven’t seen my wife since. I have regrets, many regrets.
JAGGED STUMP
Rayne Brent | Grade 8, Boise
Looking at the jagged stump of her, the memories leaking like sap. No one ever believed me, that the old, creaky tree once spoke to me dearly. Her branches swept me off my feet, tangling me in her green leaves. The time I scraped my knee against the rough bark, covering the beauty of her skin underneath. The tree once stood tall and mighty, a once-loved piece of Mother Nature. My heart fills with a melancholy sigh, as I stand here alone.
A sense of nostalgia washing over me, like a soft, gentle wave. Her trunk chopped short, lying on her side left to die.
Her branches lie scattered around her dismantled body leaving a void in my horizon, her absence mourned.
FROG
Oliver Bullard | Grade 8, Boise
I watch as another band of teenagers walks through the door. I don’t think much of it, but then I notice it. The only boy in the group. I know that he needs to be the one. I watch as he walks over to the counter to pick up his drink and cookie. Then, he looks over towards me! We make eye contact, and he greets me with a well-accented ribbit. “He speaks frog!” I thought. We went along with the conversation for a while, but I finally told him what I had been thinking from the beginning. “Take me with you,” I say. He nods, and soon enough, I am hopping down the street with him on my back. We finally make it to his house. I quickly get settled in my spot by his couch, and we play video games for hours on end. Then, we go to the park and play on the slide and swings. We head back to his house after that and go to sleep.
LOOKING BACK ON IT
Rehema Sadiki | Grade 9, Boise
“Yeah, why didn’t we invite you?” She turns her head, the question a valiant attempt at inclusion.
I’d laughed uncomfortably at the ensuing silence, walking two paces back.
Always two paces back.
“Please?? It’s just for the vending machine. I swear I’ll pay you back!”
Crammed & crumpled dollar bills, & a sticky, sour feeling. The cafeteria is too loud. She still owes me $25.
“You probably wouldn’t get it. It’s an inside j—”
It always is, & there’s always something I’m not doing right, even if I do everything all the time. A table full of people I’ve known my whole life, but barely recognize. I’m sitting right here, but my spot is empty.
Have they always been this— annoying, loud, shallow, cruel?
The table behind me beckons, a silent invitation.
CHAPTER 27
Shiloh Hodges | Grade 8, Boise
We ran over the hill to see a village burning, people running, children screaming, and Vaelorth soldiers causing the chaos. I grabbed Alec’s hand and ran down to the village with him.
“Come on Alec, we have to help them!” I yelled. But he was frozen, staring ahead. “Alec, listen to me. We need to help the people!” I yelled at him again. Instead he quickly grabbed me and dragged me into an alley.
“We can’t,” he said.
“Why not, the people are in danger?” I countered.
“Because my mother will see you!” he shouted. I froze at his words, and so did Alec because he just realized what he said.
“Your mother is Queen Seraphine Caereth? The same queen that killed my family and my grandmother’s kingdom, the same queen that led and orchestrated the attack on Solmyr? That’s your mother!” He was frozen for another moment before he spoke.
“Yes, that’s my mother. And I know I didn’t tell you, but it wasn’t the right time.”
Then I walked forward another step and asked him, “Why are you really here?” His eyes were full of guilt, but he sighed and said:
“My mother sent me here to judge you. To decide if the prophecy was true, if you were to be our salvation or our doom.”
I stepped back. “”What were you to do if I was the doom?” I asked. But he didn’t need to answer, his eyes said it all. I turned to leave, but he grabbed my wrist.
“Wait, please. I never meant for this to happen. After I met you I stopped reporting to my mother. I got to know you. And after everything, all I want to do is help you, protect you, and be with you through everything!” he said. But he had opened a cut too deep to close.
I pulled away and walked back over the hill to our campsite. He ran after me, desperately trying to explain. “Wait! Please just let me explain. I know my mission was to judge you, but after that day I met you in the stormtower ruins, something changed. All I wanted to do was keep you safe. So I lied and kept with that lie to stay with you. And over time, I got to know you, and you became everything to me.”
I stopped walking, but I didn’t turn. “You lied to me, betrayed me. I hated you from the moment we met. Over time I started to believe that I was just using hatred to
cover up what I was really feeling. But not anymore. I trusted you, and you betrayed me. And anything I ever felt for you is gone!” I said. He was stunned, frozen in place, his face full of hurt like he’d taken a physical blow as I walked away.
Later that night, I hiked up the small hill to the cliff at the top. I sat down, my legs dangling over the edge. I looked up at the stars until I heard footsteps behind me. I didn’t need to turn around to see who it was.
He hesitantly walked over to me. I let him sit down next to me. He didn’t talk or try to get me to talk. He just sat there next to me on the cliff, our legs dangling over it. I didn’t speak or look at him, I just looked up at the stars. And so did he. We sat there watching the stars on that cliff together. A moment of peace in our chaotic lives. I was still mad at him, but even though he wasn’t saying anything to try to gain my trust back, I knew he had things he wanted to explain, to say. Although he didn’t, the silence said everything.
MARILYN MONROE
Aden Fletcher | Grade 7, Boise
She was an idol
A star bigger than the sun
With each day, her fame growing bigger
While she deteriorated inside
With each picture taken
The hurricane inside her grew bigger
With each movie filmed her fire grew to a single flame
Soon the pictures taken became all that was left her tear-stained pillow her empty pill bottle her silent bedroom her grey tombstone the legend that she left behind the blonde bombshell gone forever.
BIG BLUE ARROW
Bay Beech | Grade 5, Boise
This big blue arrow is Pointing me somewhere. Go this way, or Go there!
Big blue arrow will tell me Where.
This big blue arrow is telling Me something, That everything has a reasoning. If I get hurt, why do I cry? Big blue arrow will tell me why.
This big blue arrow is listening, Listening to my wonderings. Why do seasons have names, Spring, Summer, Winter, Fall?
Big blue arrow will tell me all.
BIG BLUE ARROW
Bay Beech | Grade 5, Boise
FINNALARDO DELUXE
Sam Wright | Grade 5, Boise
LAND FISHIES
Leona Zarsee | Grade 5, Boise
MICROWAVE
Jack Werre | Grade 5, Boise
SUMMER
Dayeon Kang | Grade 6, Boise
ABSOLUTE CHAOS
Daniel Wolff | Grade 5, Boise
UNTITLED
Presley Pelletier | Grade 4, Boise
I am persistent as the moon and the stars.
I am as swift as the eagle searching for its morning prey.
I am as kind as a mother fox sharing its food with the young.
I am as shy as a playful cat.
I am as strong as trust.
I am as playful as a young dog.
I am free as a dove.
I am as sweet as cake.
Color Spectrum
Presley Pelletier | Grade 4, Boise
MAGICAL TREE
Yee-Ling Sin | Grade 4, Boise
You sit and read by a tree. You fall in. You scream but nobody hears. Then you see color. You follow. You see a rainbow. You see magic. You climb out. You go home. You dream of it. You come back. It is different.
MAGICAL TREE
Yee-Ling Sin | Grade 4, Boise
THE BARFING MAN
Calvin Zamzow | Grade 4, Boise
A CITY
Emily Wolff | Grade 3, Boise
EVE’S ADVENTURES
Emmy Beech | Grade 3, Boise
June Nelson | Grade 3, Boise
THE CAT’S PIANO
Lilly Brown | Grade 3, Boise
HORSE
Quinn Kittrell | Grade 4, Henderson, NV
SAMANTHA
Samantha Churnside | Grade 3, Boise
PETERSVILLE
Sophia Hoglund-Peariso | Grade 4, Boise
ME
Sophia Hoglund-Peariso | Grade 4, Boise
Acknowledgements
Summer Writing Camps at The Cabin touch the lives of hundreds of student writers and adults each summer due to the talent of our teaching-writers, the generosity of funders, and the gifts of time and support from volunteers, interns, board members, and community partners.
Thank you to teaching-writers Colleen Brennan, Sonya Feibert, Chris Mathers Jackson, Aurora Mehlman, Hannah Rodabaugh, Cassie Kiyoko Woodard, Chloe Bliss Snyder, Trey Hayden, Heidi Kraay, and Tracy Sunderland.
Many thanks to our 2025 interns, camper-support assistants, teaching-assistants, and Cabin staff: Abby Barr, Trey Hayden, Daphne Stanford, Brooke Warmuth, Eppah McFarlane, Sophie Whitfield, Rachel Jacobson, Julia Thrasher, Madi Hill, Maya Gudapati, Mya Powell, Nathan Johns, Adriana Cuchillo Tapia, Lizzy Engman, Kiryn Willett, Hadley Starman, Ella Mantle, Adie Bartron, Hillary Bilinski, Hillary Colton, Chris DeVore, Gen Emerson, Jordyn Marcroft, Desmond Fuller, Joel Wayne, and Kurt Zwolfer.
Writing Camps and publication of MegaZine are made possible by generous support from The Idaho Commission on the Arts, National Endowment for the Arts, The Whittenberger Foundation, Idaho Community Foundation, Boise State University, Amazon Literary Partnership, Zoo Boise, Boise Art Museum, Foothills School of Arts and Sciences, World Center for Birds of Prey, The Wassmuth Center, Jim Hall Foothills Learning Center, and Flying M Coffeehouse.
Teaching-Writer Biographies
Cassie Kiyoko Woodard is a fiction writer and translator who recently earned her MFA at Boise State University. Her writing has been shortlisted for The Masters Review Winter Short Story & Featured Flash contest, and she recently presented her translations at the American Literary Translators Association conference.
Tracy Sunderland writes screenplays, plays, and is venturing into creative memoir. She is the 2024 recipient of the ICAs fellowship in performative and media arts, and is excited to be getting back together with rye bread–bread is back in 2025!
Aurora Mehlman is a fiction and creative-nonfiction writer currently working on a novel; won 2nd place in The Master’s Review 2024 Contest for Emerging Writers, and when she’s not taching at BSU or CWI, writing, talking about writing, or teaching yong writers, you can see her zipping down the nordic ski trails at Bogus Basin or along the greenbelt by bike.
Chris Mathers Jackson is a book reviewer, English teacher, and writer of fiction and creative non-fiction. She loves teaching Cabin camps and encouraging young writers to find their own unique voices. Starting this fall, she will become the 9th and 10th grade english teacher at Sage International school. She also loves adventuring—near and far—with her husband and two daughters.
Hannah Rodabaugh is the author of Lost Cathedral and four chapbooks of poetry. Her poetry is featured in The Indianapolis Review, Camas Magazine, Glassworks Magazine, Plant-Human Quarterly, and Berkeley Poetry Review. She teaches at Boise State University and the College of Western Idaho. When not writing, she volunteers for the Golden Eagle Audubon Society and collects rare desert succulents from around the world.
Chloe Bliss Snyder is a poet and translator from upstate New York. Her chapbook Ekho and Narkissos can be heard on PennSound; some of her other work can be read in various outlets, and is forthcoming in the Chicago Review.
Colleen Brennan writes short stories and memoir and has received a literary award from the Alexa Rose foundation. In her spare time, she likes to hike, skate ski, and play beethoven sonatas.
Sonya Feibert is a writer, storyteller, and improviser. In January 2024 she did a Studio AIR residency at Surel’s Place to write a story about her last name. She’s a parent to a small human, a small dog, and many house plants.
Heidi Kraay is a playwright and writer-across-disciplines who recently got to stay at the Hemingway House as a Writer-in-Residence, brought her play Take Me Away: a trainwreck with monsters to the Valdez Theatre Conference in Alaska and was one of two inaugural Boise City Writers-in-Residence in 2024.
Trey Hayden writes poetry and is a recent graduate of BSU’s Creative Writing MFA. Originally from Kentucky, he enjoys playing piano and biking the greenbelt in his spare time.
Index
B
Beech, Bay 80, 81
Beech, Emmy 93
Bennett, Isla 36
Bennett, Sutton 35
Bergset, Jaya 37
Black, Kiera 65
Bradshaw, Adam 47
Brent, Rayne 74
Brittsan, Isabel 46
Brown, Lilly 95
Brown, Madeleine 72
Bullard, Oliver 75
Butterfield, Owen 37
C
Cantlon, Allison 59, 60
Churnside, Samantha 97
Cullen-Cannon, Rowan 30
D
Davidson-Slichter, Leora 44
Davis, Sagan 45
E
Elliott, Katherine 40
F
Fletcher, Aden 79
Fountain, Maddy 13, 14
Friedewald, Edie 9, 10
G
Galitsyna, Liza 68
H
Haugland, Henry 54
Hobbs, Brynn 61
Hodges, Shiloh 77
Hoglund-Peariso, Sophia 11, 12, 98, 99
Holly, Hendrix 21, 22, 23
Hull, Chase 50
Hume, Augustus 53
Hume, Oakley 55
Hwang, Zoe 34
J
Jackson, Nora 71
Jenkins, Madeline 17, 18
Jung, Ella 34
K
Kang, Dayeon 85
Kannan, Pavan 19
Kittrell, Calliope 69
Kittrell, Quinn 96
L
Lane, Moose 36
Liao, Erwin 31
Liao, Kelvin 33
Lodge, Avery 8
M
Marshall, Georgina 26
Martin, Ellie 43
Masse, Camille 15
Medley, Eleanor 41
Mitchell, Alexandra 35
Mitchell, Charlotte 28
Monroe, Caroline 36
N
Nasser, Harlow 67
Nelson, June 94
Niederklein, Josie 16
O
Ogas, Anthony 32
Olson, Eleanor 51
Pankau, Izzy 39
Pantera, Anthony 29
Payne, Elin 62
Payne, Ellis 52
Pelletier, Presley 87, 88
Peterson, Viviane 64
Prince, Esther 57, 58 R
Ragsdale, Ashlyn 48
Ragsdale, Ayla 49 S
Sadiki, Rehema 63, 76
Saxler, Anya 42
Sin, Yee-Ling 89, 90
V
Vega, Olin 56 W
Wald, Eve 73
Wang, Chloe 24, 38
Werre, Jack 84
White, Evalyn 7
Wilcox, Sage 20
Williams, Laina 70
Wolff, Daniel 86
Wolff, Emily 92
Wright, Sam 82
Wyatt, Max 66
Z
Zamzow, Calvin 91
Zarsee, Leona 83
Summer 2025
Writing Camps
MegaZine
The Cabin is a Boise, Idaho literary arts organization. We forge community through the voices of all readers, writers, and learners. Writing Camps nurture the imagination and awaken the senses through creative adventures in the art of writing.
NATURE
Maddy Fountain | Grade 5, Boise
Blooming flowers all Around, grass is growing on the ground. Ferns are moving swiftly in the wind wind, brushing my arm and smooth skin.
My hair blowing in the breeze, growing plants and many trees. Lots of birds gracefully sing, there’s a lot of things that nature brings.