The true story of Seventeen's fiction-contest winner

Good things can happen when you win Seventeen magazine's annual fiction-writing contest. Ask Curtis Sittenfeld — who'll appear tonight at Lake Forest Park's Third Place Books — who won it in 1992 and whose debut novel, "Prep," The New York Times chose as one of 2005's best books.
Or ask Annalise Nicholson, a 17-year-old junior at Federal Way's Decatur High and winner of this year's national contest, whose story "To Devotion" is in the magazine's June issue.
Fan mail has come from as far as Portugal. An 18-year-old blogger in Kansas City, Mo., posted two favorite lines from the story:
"I wanted to cry or kill him or maybe both, and I didn't know which.
"They lay on that floor for ages, the gap between them growing with every word; and him telling her all the things she never wanted to hear... ."
"I'm pretty sure most of us can relate to both of them," the posting went, "in one way or another."
On her MySpace page soon after, Annalise wrote: "Oh my god. Something that came from my head is now in a national magazine. And I've got seven pages of people asking to be my friend. I'm a little disoriented."
Seventeen's long-running contest draws about 500 submissions entries annually, says Shara Glickman of Hearst Magazines, which publishes the 61-year-old magazine. The honor comes with a $1,000 prize and a private session with a Barnard College English instructor.
"I can't wait to hear what she has to say," says Annalise, who also won a citywide poetry contest two years ago.
She writes constantly, usually at night, filling notebooks with random thoughts and sentences usually kept to herself. "It's a good way to get things out," she says. "I'm not always articulate when I'm talking, but I can always express myself when I'm writing."
On her MySpace page, she puts it this way: "I don't write because I like to. I write because I need to."
She wrote stories as early as second grade, but it wasn't until sixth grade, at Federal Way's Nautilus Elementary, that she first thought of herself as a writer. There, in a writing program for advanced students, instructor Dom Accettullo helped her learn what she could do.
Though many students could adequately communicate ideas, Accettullo remembers Annalise's writing was marked by a rare depth of insight and reflection — and the courage to put very revealing feelings onto paper.
"It was though she were whispering into my ear about something important to us both — even when the topics were mundane, everyday things," Accettullo says via e-mail.
But the contest was Annalise's little secret. She didn't tell anyone, even after she won, waiting for the issue to hit the stands just to be sure it was real. She opened it up and there it was — her name, her words, unfurled on a glossy, collage-style layout that she thought fit perfectly.
Her parents were thrilled. Mom Cindy, a medical-billing manager, bought a ton of magazines to send to obscure relatives; meanwhile, says dad Jim, a Washington State Ferries employee: "I'm totally proud of her ... . To be published in a national periodical is a pretty big deal for a junior in high school."
She'd spent more time on the story than any other, holing up with her laptop. She knew it was probably some of her best material. It's intimate stuff, and Annalise says it felt odd to have it so public, especially since she really does have a boyfriend. A good one.
The story is not autobiographical, she says. "Everybody keeps asking me, 'Is that real?' And it's not. Now I feel bad."
She adds: "He's been really nice about it."
When her dad first read it, he too was the tiniest bit surprised that such a painful love story would emerge from his daughter's head. "I know it didn't happen to her. It's just a conglomeration of things she's been thinking about. It's like any writer. Like, all those things couldn't have happened to Stephen King. He'd be dead."
Marc Ramirez: 206-464-8102 or mramirez@seattletimes.com
Excerpt from "To Devotion"
Annalise Nicholson's short story about a girl talking with a friend over tea, wondering whether to break up with her cheating boyfriend.
"Then there came a new, soft little noise, which Julia recognized. She turned immediately in fleeting, inexplicable fright, and behind her Nigel was crying. He was doing it subtly. He was leaned against her bed, his legs splayed before him and his hands resting motionless on his lap, not covering his face, not pushing back his hair, not reaching out to her.
"It happened in an instant, one moment in one place and the next in another, like suddenly switching the images in an old slide projector. Though unclear how she got there, she was now kneeling on the floor and holding his hand; her shoulder was wet and he was embarrassed, pressing his eyes into his palm. She could still feel his name, the ghost of it on her tongue, and she must have just now said it, she assumed.
With effort, Nigel collected himself and said in a cracked voice, 'I love you.'
'I know.' "