First Place:

Dear Charles Frazier,

I don’t know if you intended to make your book, Cold Mountain, about the evils of war, but that is what spoke to me most about it. It changed my entire stance on war. As of 11 September 2001, I would have said that I supported war in times of extremity, but after reading the haunting details of your book, I do not think I can ever see pride in a victorious battle again.

The young widow Sara reminds me of the innocent Iraqi women who are left suffering while we try to democratize their country. Sara’s husband died and left her alone with heartache; this is a feeling she shares with almost every woman in Iraq. Each day I hear about the many innocent Iraqi women and children that we kill each day. They have to suffer the mortal consequences of war such as death, molestation, and rape though they have no say in their government. The women in Iraq are now taking comfort in drug abuse to numb themselves from the pain of their world.

The death of Inman after his duel with Birch struck my heart. I am young and in love and so were Ada and Inman. I realized that if the war in Iraq should escalate, the United States could draft my fiancé (to be) and force him to go to Iraq. I know that he would fight for his life so he could return, but at the same time, he cannot control his circumstances under escalated danger. War could sever his life before he can fully experience it. We could end up like Ada and Inman. That thought runs through my head every moment of everyday now, and that is why I wish that I could do more than simply hate war.

I don’t think anything has ever opened my eyes to the reality of war until you opened my imagination to the violence of your book. The experiences Inman had would haunt any man forever, and he would never be the same again. When Inman was riding in the train with the other injured soldiers to the hospital, the description of the ride stays with me. I could almost smell the rotten blood and urine on the train walls as I read it. It made me realize that I am thankful for technology and hygiene, but at the same time I realized something similar could happen to the soldiers in Iraq or the Iraqi citizens. The image that particularly dwells in me is the man that was killing the badly injured Federal soldiers by striking them over the head with a hammer. It horrified me the way he moved down the line of men violently striking each one in the head as though it was an ordinary obligation. Now I see why men return from war with completely numb hearts and personalities. That image clearly remains in my mind; I am afraid it will haunt me for the rest of my life. I feel like I have seen this happen, and I do not want anyone I love to have to see it. These days, many people are in fear of a draft. My fiancé will be the first to go, and I will not have his personality tainted by these violent actions that are in the name of Iraqi freedom. You said it so well. “All he could list in his mind worth combat right now was his right to live unmolested somewhere.” I always remember that line every time I hear someone talk about the war in Iraq, and it brings bitter surety to my heart the way it did to Inman’s that this war will only further ruin us.

Something the nightly news with Dan Rather could never do was open my eyes to the painful reality of war, but your book did. I now realize that war is truly evil, and people who run from it are not necessarily cowards. I no longer see how war can create democracy. War is not life because it is death; it is not liberty because it constrains society with fear; it is not the pursuit of happiness because it slices love with separation. Thank you for showing me the cruel truth.

Your Reader,
Jessica Lemaster
Nixa High School

Second Place:

Dear J. K. Rowling,

Greetings from the heart of Missouri. I certainly can’t say that the life I live is anything like the one depicted in your Harry Potter series, but I certainly have dreamed that it is often enough. The first four books of the series enchanted and fascinated me, but the fifth book truly touched me in a way that no other book has done. At the age of fifteen, I haven’t gone on nearly as many adventures as Harry, nor do I have a powerful enemy who is bent on revenge, but I feel a strong emotional connection to Harry in the fifth book none the less, and I wanted to tell you why.

My father died four years ago in an automobile accident. I was very close to him and my world flew apart that day. I thank the Lord often that I still have my mom, who has supported me in all that I do. This makes an obvious connection to Harry and his godfather’s death. But I want to concentrate more on how Harry reacts to Sirius’s death. It shocks me how very similar his actions and emotions were after Sirius’s death were to my own; in fact, I often wonder if you also lost a parent or parent figure in your teenage years as well. Harry’s first reaction after Sirius fell through the veil was disbelief, or rather, refusal to believe what had happened. Looking back, I can’t remember any emotion or any particular feeling the entire month after dad died except the slightly haunting felling of expecting to see him coming down the driveway in his big blue truck or his face in the crowd cheering for me at my basketball games. The time I remember most, though, was after this time of incredulity and disbelief. Once I had started to accept the fact that this awful thing had truly happened, I was angry; angry at my classmates, angry at my mom, at myself, even at the sun which shown too bright and at God himself for letting my father die. Harry hit this stage as well. He foolishly chased after Bellatrix to duel with the more experienced witch who had murdered Sirius, and then he raged at Dumbledore, who had just saved Harry’s life. Harry did go through these emotions faster than most people do, but then the circumstances under which Sirius died were much different than most deaths. After Harry returned to Hogwarts and his usual daily routine, he felt separated from all the rest of the students, as though a divider had been placed between two times, one that separated his old life from the new one, the world with Sirius from the world without him. I have found that, over time, that barrier has become more pronounced in my own life. Every time I remember events or trips or even places, the first thing I do is associate them to the time of my dad’s death, whether it was before the accident or after. Harry also found that another kind of barrier was in place; this one separated him from the rest of the students at Hogwarts. I also felt separated from the rest of the students at my school after the accident. I felt different from them, and often found that I was impatient with them when they talked about matters that seemed very trivial compared to my own thoughts. I regret this now, because I realize that many of them had problems at home as well, and I should’ve been more sympathetic towards them.

Someday I would have to meet you and ask the many questions I have about Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. Why does Harry yell so much, his temper always lurking right under the surface? I do understand why things didn’t work out between Harry and Cho, but couldn’t they have? Was Harry’s father truly an arrogant jerk, or was Snape really awful enough to deserve the treatment he got from James and Sirius? Out of all these questions the one I most want to ask is this; why did Sirius, the only parent Harry had, have to die? I suppose that I ask this question of you because I ask myself so often why my own father had to die, and so I naturally empathize with Harry very strongly about this. I have dwelled on this question since I first read the book when it came out two summers ago, and truthfully, if Sirius hadn’t died, I wouldn’t connect to Harry nearly as well as I do now.

I fell awkward writing all of these sad and depressing sentiments to you, a complete stranger, when I barely talk about these things with my closest friends. I suppose that I feel more comfortable telling you of these things because I know you understand them perfectly by reading your latest book. But here; perhaps I can make this letter slightly less depressing. Reading your book has helped me to realize that the barrier between me and the other teenagers in my life doesn’t have to exist, that it was of my own making. I know that it doesn’t have to exist now because now I realize just how many other teens have similar tragedies in their own lives. For example, at least half of the young people I know live completely with one parent, or with only one parent at a time, whether from divorce or from deaths. I notice things about people now that I didn’t before the accident. When I see a gothic student waling slowly down a hallway, I wonder what has taken all the joy from their life, the bitterness of disappointment and hurt that has made them the way they are. The fact that a character in a fantasy book can go through the things I have and feel the same emotions that I do made me realize that others in my world can feel these things, too.

And so I now am writing you this letter, mostly to thank you for writing Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix in the realistic way you did, so that I could connect so well with a character not from my world. This way I was able to realize that I am not alone in my situation or my emotions, and hopefully I’ll be able to help others find this comforting revelation as well.

Sincerely,
Kristen Shively
Simonsen Ninth Grade Center, Jefferson City

Honorable Mention:

Dear Mr. Tim O’Brien,

It is amazing how people today are so uneducated when it comes to their own history. Sadly, I was one of those people. However, after reading your book, The Things They Carried, I feel as though I’ve seen the light. Now that I’ve been given a better understanding of one event, and experienced the rewards of knowledge, I have a thirst for understanding other events that have shaped the society we live in today. My vow, my goal is to never allow myself to slip back into the darkness of ignorance.

There has always been a part of my dad that I never knew, never understood. He fought in the Vietnam War, but didn’t like to talk about what had happened to him during that time. All my life my dad has been extremely opinionated and passionate about politics, and I never understood why he felt this way. I only saw it as a hobby for him, and at election time an annoyance for me. Thankfully, after reading your book, during my junior year in high school, I began to understand this part of my father’s life.

We hear news on television or read about past battles in text books and think “oh, it couldn’t have been that bad.” Well, after reading your book I can now see that it was that bad, much worse than anyone will ever comprehend unless they live it themselves. After I began to understand all of this and as I got further along in the book I showed your novel to my dad. This book was the first thing that got my dad to talk about his experiences in Vietnam. He started answering questions and commenting on assignments I was working on for school concerning the Vietnam War. I began to hear more and more stories about the negative things that happened and what he saw as the “facts” of the war, rather than the funny and interesting things he saw as part of the Vietnamese culture. Both my mom and I would stop to listen when he would begin to speak of the war. We slowly realized why he becomes so involved and passionate about politics, why there were certain subjects he always avoided, why it had taken him so many years to even start to talk about his time in Vietnam, and most importantly how lucky we were that he was able to come home and be a wonderful father and husband to us. I always knew I was blessed to have my dad as a father, but I never truly appreciated that blessing until I was able to talk to my dad about the war. It wasn’t until that moment that I realized the struggles you see in movies or read about in text books are real. The hardships soldiers like my father had to endure, the heartache of being away from home, the pressure and fear, the pain of watching friends die, and watching a once beautiful country being destroyed become magnified during wartime. All these factors leave a mark that lasts a lifetime on the people who have to experience them. This revelation caused me to see my father in a while new light, and if possible made me even more proud to call him my dad.

This book helped to educate me on a part of history that shaped my future, but most importantly educate me on my dad. I feel that we got closer after I read The Things They Carried. The best relationships in life occur with people that you completely understand. I have known and loved my dad all my life, but there was always that one little piece missing. Thankfully, now that piece has been put into the puzzle and so many of my questions have been answered. Many people in the world still have no understanding of the events that made them who they are today. Thank you, Mr. O’Brien, for taking me out of the dark and giving me insight into my own life and family.

Sincerely,
Julie Grosmann
Parkway South High School, Ballwin

Honorable Mention:

Dear Mary Monroe,

God Don’t Like Ugly; an item within the time capsule of life. Filled with inspiration and excitement God Don’t Like Ugly is like a roller coaster. You don’t want it to end, but you’re so afraid of the next turn you wish it were over. The book itself was captivating. I felt like everything Annette was saying I had said. Like everything Annette was thinking I had thought. Like everything Annette was felling I had already felt. When she felt like everyone was out to hurt her, I felt that way too.

It was like we had a special where we could just understand each other. When she had all the changes in the world to tell on Mr. Boatwright, and she never did, I knew why. She knew no one would believe her. Annette never once told anyone except Rhoda, and even thought it took me five years; I told my mother.

Annette’s life was pure hell when she was with Mr. Boatwright; though she often mentioned they had some good times. My life was pure hell when I had to see George. Even though he didn’t live with me, he lived three doors down. It seemed like no matter what he said or did to me, I could never forget about the few good times we had. I even somehow understood how Mr. Boatwright still had a strong hold on Annettte, because George had the same hold on me. The hold they possessed on us was based on fear, and even though they were long gone the hold will never leave us.

I loved the way you had Annette express the way she felt about Mr. Boatwright. She expressed sympathy for what occurred in his childhood, and even compared it to her own. Even though he raped her for ten or eleven years she still felt pity for him, and I could understand that. I couldn’t do anything, but feel pity for the guilt and pain that George must have felt everyday. I think deep down George was always sorry for what he did to me, and I am too.

Until I read God Don’t Like Ugly I was depressed and hated life. I had even thought of suicide, but I learned for Annette that you could survive things much worse than being raped or molested. Life throws you hurdles to see how high you can jump, and with a little practice no hurdle is to high. No hurdle is to high especially not for me, because one moment gave me a lifetime supply of experience.

God Don’t Like Ugly influenced my life by letting me see inside someone else’s life. Annette made me realize I had to strive to go on just as she had, and accept what happened to me. I used Annette as a role model for a pathway to a happy, normal life. Rhoda helped Annette, Annette helped me, and hopefully one day I can help someone else.

All in all I hated the book. I hated it, because it inspired me to look inside myself and see the truth. I felt like Annette, was based on my life. Like you just used the trials and tribulations I went through to create Annette, and what happened within her life. She survived the trauma, and I did to all thanks to you.

Reading this story helped me see that some people are able to be trusted. It taught me that not everyone is out to hurt me, and you can’t automatically assume that either. Like I said life is one big roller coaster, you have to take risks or you’ll never enjoy it. Anyone can ride a roller coaster it takes a little experience, just jump as few hurdles and read God Don’t Like Ugly.

Sincerely,
Teira Worthy
Jennings Senior High School