the great leslie

This is the Hendrickson family cabin. My dad had it built in New Sharon, Maine a few years ago. It's pretty simple: no water and no electric. It's a short walk down to the Sandy River and the canoe launch. There's an outhouse in the back and an eclectic library of 1970s trade paperbacks and every book Stuart Woods ever wrote. In the summer, the bugs are many, but lightning bugs are among them. And on a clear night, you can see a million stars.

We were just there, but only for a night. It's a trek for me to get up there, and I never leave early enough, so I can never stay long enough. It's getting colder up in Maine, but I hope to go at least once more. There are a few down comforters and a wood stove to keep me warm.

Nest summer I am going up there for a week or more to write the next great tween novel.