Going Into Hiding Is Perfectly Reasonable

Every summer, we all pack our bags as a family and move to Finlinson State, a local summer college that looks shockingly like a house of four girls. The dorms are huge and the food tastes just like your own personal, home cooked meal. Our professors treat us like family, and you tutor yourself everyday from ten to twelve, working for a final project to be displayed in August at the university.

Your class travels to their own (sort of) personal summer house for weeks during the summer as well, taking a breather from the work in the St. George heat. You're free to major in anything from the American flag to polar bears. (Finlinson State has welcomed film production and J.K. Rowling majors over the years.)

This year, I wanted to major in World War II, because our history class isn't going to have time to cover it in May. Our English class did back in November, because there's nothing like The Book Thief inspired tears to pull you into a history lesson. (Really, I don't think there is.) But I wanted to learn more, and I've had this great idea, since January, that I could hide out in the basement or my room for a few days and write about it as part of my studies.

After all, shouldn't a YA author be able to know what it's like in hiding? That comes up in plenty of novels. My parents could bring me food and I could toss out all my electronics and huddle in a corner with my journal, living off stale bread.

But no. The Finlinson State professors won't let people go that far in their studies.