In the spirit of catching up on contest winners, how’s this for being timely? I’ve got the winner of our rock ‘n’ roll writing contest inspired by Wise Young Fool by Sean Beaudoin — our August Book of the Month!
The winner will receive a copy of Wise Young Fool, and that winner is Zach Hetrick. Here is his hilarious rock ‘n’ roll winning entry:
I look down at my wrangled, old hands. O, I am a sinner indeed. The fingertips on my left hand have indents so deep they look like cuts.
“In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. My last confession was this morning,” I speak quietly. The lattice screen between the two compartments is visible only by the small amount of light coming from under the old wooden door. The man on the other side, dressed in his white tunic and beretta, continued to stare ahead in silence. I was here merely hours ago, but I couldn’t help myself. If I would have avoided that place, I wouldn’t need to be here again. I took a deep breath of musty air and began.
“Forgive me father Lewis, for I have sinned again,” I started. “After leaving this morning for a small walk to the bakery for a pastry, the gleam of the,” I paused, not knowing whether I should state it again. I couldn’t stop the shame from washing over me as I continued, “of the guitars in the shop next door, well, needless to say I never got my pastry.” I chuckled at that, though father Lewis found no amusement in it. I shifted awkwardly in my seat and the wooden bench creaked.
“Continue,” father Lewis demanded, politely. It wasn’t anger in his voice that made me close my eyes, but disappointment. I rubbed at my fingertips and continued.
“I went in because there were teenagers in the store, attempting to play some songs I may have heard before. I thought I may be able to help them, you see.” I don’t think he did, but I went on, “I taught them how to play Stairway to Heaven. One of them began to head bang incorrectly, and I showed him how to do it without hurting himself. Other things along those lines occurred, but…”
“Be specific,” father Lewis said with a pause between the words. I knew I was supposed to be specific, naming each conscious sin no matter the severity. A man in my position needs to be an open book.
“Very well,” I said, looking up into the darkness above me, remembering. “There was also lessons on proper technique for jumping off amplifiers. They did all the jumping, of course. As well as a brief instruction on which drugs to avoid, how to position a friend on the couch after he passes out from drinking, and the intro to Eruption by Van Halen. That is all I remember. Father, please forgive me.”
Father Lewis sighed and said the words of absolution as he made the sign of the cross, then he said, “Give thanks to the Lord, for He is good.”
“And His love endures forever,” I finished. “Thank you, Father Lewis.”
“You’re welcome, Father Raymond. Now I believe it’s your turn to sit on this side for a while.”
“I believe it is.” I put on my biretta, feeling refreshed, and stepped out.
Congrats, Zach!
Novel Novice 
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