CrimeBake writing contest results!

We celebrated the 14th annual CrimeBake conference with a writing contest. Herewith the results:
 
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Special recogniton for a great line:

Good toadies are so hard to find.

Jeff Deitering 9:57am

Between the Cuisinart and chainsaw she had done a good job mulching her new flowerbeds.

Melissa Guernsey 11:52am

Special recognition for an entry that wasn't quite a story, but wonderful:

Jeff Deitering 9:57am

Special recognition for an entry that wasn't quite a story, but quite terrifying indeed!

Dena Pawling 11:22am

I'm not sure what this is but it's delicious!

frenchsojourn 10:45am

These entries cracked me up:

Phil Smith 3:44pm

Annaka 7:55pm

Dee Blacks 9:33am

A pun worthy of a year long groan!

Michael Rigg 10:51pm

One of the most compelling closes to an entry I've ever read:

"But I know what's rushing toward us. The crowds. The torches. And what comes next. What always comes next."

JD Paradise 12:58am

Special recogniton for the entry about the great filly Ruffian

CarolynnWith2Ns 7:51M

Here are the entries on the long list:

jmaggard 9:58am

Steve Forti 9:58am

Colin Smith 10:15am

Claire 11:14am

CynthiaMc 11:19am

S.D. King 3:36pm

Kimber 1:23am

John Frain 1:58am

Here are the five entries that made the short list:

(1) Donnaeve 11:41am

Ten months old, bland eyes study us behind the bars of his crib.

Such a serious baby, we say.

Potty-training rewards us with persistent smearing of feces.

The Terrible Twos, we believe.

Four years old, an Easy-Bake oven is smashed over another child’s head.

Oh, the daycare’s reaction. You’d think he committed a crime, our little ruffian.

Sixth grade, he touches a female student.

Don’t they remember puppy love?!?!

High School, he’s accused of date rape.

Foolishness!

Under cross-examination, he’s composed.

We win.

That time.

Blank windows of his soul stare from his cell.

Our own are filled with tears.

What makes this a story: there's a beginning, middle and end. We see the characters (the unnamed person telling the story) change over time. 

And that penultimate line: "Blank windows of his soul stare from his cell" require the reader to know "eyes are the window to the soul." I really like it when the story requires something from the reader as well.

This is brilliant, elegant writing. 

(2) Leiilani 4:14pm

Today, I bake. Bars, cakes, especially pies.
He's on the train all week. He’ll need to eat.
I cream the butter, fold in the way she cries -
like something’s broken deep inside. He beat
her, he says, to teach her not to lie
but I know what I saw. Pinch the crust
into a ruff. I answer yes, and smile,
when he asks if it’s for him. The dust
of Grandma’s plate that broke is sitting by.
I sprinkle hate like sugar. If he should die…
Well. It’s not a crime to bake a pie.

Notice that the rhythm of this entry is exactly what you'd get if you were mixing a cake by hand?

And the rhyme pattern probably has a name but I don't know what it is. Which proves you can appreciate the beauty of something without knowing what it's called.

This is a beautiful piece.

(3) Amy Schaefer 4:51pm

The key to good swimming is: stay steady. Stroke, stroke, stroke, breathe. Chug along like a train.

I try to concentrate on my technique, but thoughts keep invading. Let’s face it: this crime was a half-baked idea from the get-go. The mark was too savvy, my back-up was more Teddy Ruxpin than Terrible Ruffian, and the score was, let’s say, impractical. Did I expect to lug the gold bars in my stupid clutch purse?

I gaze around in the golden sunset. The boat is long gone. That little island doesn’t look any closer.

And my arms are so tired.

Stroke.

I like how the story is framed by swimming. The first line doesn't seem to relate to what comes next. It's not till you get to the end that you understand.

It's that frame that gives the story beauty. As a minimalist you might think I'd say 'take out everything that isn't the story" but you have to know that it's both the cake and the frosting that makes a cupcake.

(4) Just Jan 6:43pm

I track my prey to the sign that reads EMERGENCY--red letters baked onto a white background like blood splattered at a crime scene. I slip into the waiting room, a ruffian on high alert for the trained assassins who would bar me permanently if they could.

My quarry rises to greet me with a tired smile. She is beautifully disheveled--and much too young. My eyes scan the room. I could take another instead--the croupy baby, the drug addict, the old man muttering epithets. But as I falter, she kisses me gently, inhaling my fetid breath.

I weep.

 ohman ohman ohman. This just grabs you and does not let go.

"Trained assassins who would bar me permanently" is a beautiful example of how to show character through POV. (For you literalists out there: this line refers to the EMTs and medical folk trying to save lives)

And when "she kisses me gently"...brilliant.

This is gorgeous writing, and elegant story telling. I'm in awe here.

(5) E.M.Goldsmith 11:53pm

The train was full to bursting. Tickets were a bargain, given for the least of crimes, an accident of birth. A utopia on rails as every man, women, and child, ruffian or respectable, were given equal accord.

Bakers, candlestick makers, and artisans were stripped of possession as each exchanged a name for a number. Ash fell like Hell’s snow at the destination platform.

“You get used to the stench,” the captain said.

“There are so many of them,” the boy said, clipboard ready.

The captain appraised him as he brushed yesterday’s arrivals from his uniform jacket. “There’s room until tomorrow.”

This entry is breathtaking.

There's no emotion in the story: that's left to the reader to provide.

And there's nothing overtly horrifying, except when you get to the end and realize where this is set, and what it's about.  

It requires the reader to bring something to the story much like Donnaeve's entry did.

It's subtle but has the impact of a sledgehammer.

This entry is perfection.

Each of the five entries this week could easily have won in previous contests. Each is magnificent in its own way, and worthy of recognition.  Each of the finalists are terrific writers.

But much like the very great skaters who had the "misfortune" to skate against Torvill and Dean in Sarajevo in 1984, it's really hard to beat perfection.

With that, E.M. Goldsmith is the winner this week. That entry will haunt me forever.

Elise, if you'll email me with your mailing address, and what you like to read, I'll send you a prize.

Congratulations to all the amazing finalists, and thanks to all who took the time to write and enter. It's always fun to see what you think up to do with the prompts!