In Summation

Let me tell you about EPGY.

A small group of brilliant kids all around your age come from incredibly diverse backgrounds all around the world meet in Stanford to study something you love. You have a plethora of counselors who also work as teacher assistants and your awesome older siblings, so they can help with both life problems and academic questions. The first few days you're given a tour of the campus structured as a game and led cheerfully from place to place so even the most directionally challenged person won't get lost. Activities and having fun and making friends are strictly enforced, with plenty of student input of course. The food is great, the campus is beautiful, the dorms are homes away from home, the instructors are among the best. It's impossible not to enjoy your stay.

For me, EPGY was probably the most incredible writing experience I have every had, not just because it revolutionized the way I see short stories and poetry (particularly poetry), but also because of the atmosphere of freedom, friendship, and pursuing a passion together. After the first few days counselors didn't follow us around to class anymore, so it was remarkably easy to skip class - but it never even crossed our minds. We have our fun, but we all know what we're here for. When I sat down to dinner and for the first time saw all my friends start talking about the art of literature, I realized I was exactly where I wanted to be. The camp felt like a bubble of intellectual delight. I was also lucky enough to be in (we call ourselves) the best house in EPGY: the Creative Writing and Anthropology people were so sweet and funny and smart, and the counselors too. I still talk to the people I met there and still love them very much.

I'm writing this in CSSSA, actually. There are 73 creative writers here, not fifteen. Yesterday for orientation we were told, "Your roommate is not your best friend, so don't tell her you're having sex with your boyfriend," and then we were lectured for another twenty minutes not to use drugs (but if we hand over whatever drugs we brought by 9:30 pm they'd turn a blind eye). Yeah, I miss Stanford.