They thought I was dead when I first came out of my mother, silent and pale as milk. Dr. Hall saved my life, mother says.

Father calls me his "treasure". My life is no more exciting than that of a knickknack on a shelf. I'm not allowed to leave the house, nor even my bed.

My brother hates me. He always has. Yesterday, I heard his screams as father dragged him behind the woodpile to punish him for complaining that all the money went to my medical bills.

I'll fix it. After tonight, my brother can be their only treasure.

Greet him at the door,

Offer an appetizer before the main course.

But he's starving, and so turns it down,

Stating he had a small lunch,

And can't wait for dinner to be ready.

I tell him it will only take a few minutes and he can relax while I get it prepped,

But he turns it down, eating leftovers instead.

I am christened by this warm water

the blood running down the backs of slaves

and I bathed, and bathed, and bathed in it

as if it were a hot spring

Those poor ancients were by blood my saviors

I am holy and preserved through their sufferance

for them, high indeed, I should lift my head

I have not cried out day and night

as they did before the temples and tabernacles

for deliverance

Nor have I cried to the stars all day

hoping that they'll lift up my soul into a place of sheer bliss

Those ancients are my gods

I feel their breath mussing up my hair

so pure are their souls that once were full of troubles

I am stronger now, yet

in spite of this gift inculcated in my genes

I must eat and drink little, and so beware never

to satisfy these humanly longings.

I must view the world with eyes of mercy and forgive

Fill every empty heart with compassion,

even those of souls who stirred up wrath and clamored for my demise

I must disremember the grievances of flesh,

and so do as those ancients bid me to do,

for they were but flesh

The wind they breathed is the same squall around my feet, and the same fog on violet hills

that hisses for peace, and blows my eye-lids straight to sleep

I have been born and molded out of sheer glory

and time in its diligence has arisen me up to dizzying triumphs

to endow me with wisdom, so that I inherit the foundations of all nations

I am those ancient gods that walked in the darkness, so that there may be light

I am those tides that brought fish good and ready to be had

I am those birds that climbed high in altitude

and viewed the earth from above

and spoke to saints to turn sinner away from stray

I am those actions long past and unfelt, that made this moment possible

I am the whirlwind dust that answers all voices that supplicate, and those that do not

I am the wood that spews fire, the dark that give birth to light

the child that drew pyramid and bent the tide

so we could consult together as beings beneath this vast cosmos our home!

The Simon & Schuster challenge was one of our greatest accomplishments, and one of our most difficult undertakings to date. It was our first time working with a big publisher and taking challenges to a larger scale. Given the number and quality of entries, determining the top 50 was extraordinarily difficult. Having never done something like this before, we had to really bootstrap our selection criteria. 

We spent weeks reading through every single one of the entries as a team. The first criterion we used was grammar. Repetitive grammatical mistakes, and a lack of respect for English syntax in general, were grounds for disqualification. The second criterion was creativity. We looked for storytelling excellence, moving characters, inventive plots. We looked for content that captivated us, that we thought would enthrall others as well. After narrowing the list of entries by these two criteria, 166 remained. 

For each of these 166 entries, each team member assigned a subjective "quality rating" from one to five. We considered likes to break ties when the average quality score was too close to call. We wanted to include some democratic element in determining the winners, rather than solely rely upon our own subjective judgment. When all was said and done, we had found our 50 entries.

In reflection, our process was imperfect and we intend to do a better job in the near future. Here are some of the ideas we are considering:

1) Limited Voting. When the challenge ends, everyone gets a limited number of votes, and cannot use these votes on their own entry. We would use these votes to distill the pool of potential winners more democratically.

2) Electoral College. A panel of judges is either elected deliberately or selected randomly to read through the entries and determine the winners.

3) Gauntlet Tournaments. We select a few factors, a combination of judging panel, spell check, democratic votes, and other creative criteria, to advance the best content round-by-round, tournament-style.

We would love to hear your suggestions and ideas for improving our challenges.

Once again, congratulations to the winners and entrants alike. 

We are working hard to bring you more publishing opportunities.

When I was little my mom bought me a 99 cent Teddy bear for my birthday because that's all we could afford she looked at me dead cold in the eyes and said "you deserve better".

My grandmother would take care of me and when she would dress me and seen my clothes she would tell me "you deserve better".

My parents would fight about money and my friends would always say "you deserve better".

But that's the thing I don't want better because I don't need better as long as I have a warm home no matter how small, clothes no matter how warn out, and a family that loves me no matter what.

I'm fine with not having better.