What a 15-Year-Old's Competition Essay Can Teach Us About Writing That Wins

March 14, 2026•9 min read

By Alicia Brown | March 2026

Cale placed second in a national competition. Here's what his first sentence reveals about how great writing is built.

Before I tell you anything about Cale, I want you to read his first sentence.

"There I was, as red as a cherry tomato, basking in the glorious South Carolina sun, a mere eight hundred feet from the Atlantic Ocean's shore."

He didn't start with "This essay is about baptism."

He didn't start with "I want to tell you about my summer vacation."

He dropped you into a moment. A specific, sensory, visual moment. You can feel the sun. You can see the ocean. You are standing beside a 15-year-old boy before he has told you a single thing about what this essay is actually about.

That is not a coincidence. That is not talent. That is a skill with a name, a method, and a path to learn it.

Cale had been in my foundations writing class for several years. This essay placed second in the IEW Magnum Opus national writing competition. I want to walk you through exactly what makes it work because what Cale does here, your student can learn to do too.

What to Notice Before You Read

Most student essays open the same way. They announce themselves. "In this essay, I will discuss..." or "One important experience in my life was..." The writer tells you what is coming instead of taking you there.

Cale does the opposite. He uses a technique that strong writers use instinctively and that I teach deliberately: drop the reader into a scene.

Notice what his opening sentence contains:

Technique: Scene-Setting Opening

A simile (as red as a cherry tomato). A quality adjective paired with a strong sensory image (glorious South Carolina sun). A prepositional phrase that places you in the exact geography (a mere eight hundred feet from the Atlantic Ocean's shore). All in one sentence. All before he has introduced a single idea.

This is IEW's stylistic techniques at work because Cale has practiced these skills long enough that they are no longer rules. They are how he writes.

Here's a second thing I want you to notice. Look at this sentence from his second paragraph:

Technique: The Very Short Sentence (VSS)

"It was at our local YMCA that I sat at the edge of the community pool, as the instructor attempted to gently coax me into the water. I refused. I was scared."

After two longer sentences, Cale writes two sentences of two words each. I refused. I was scared. This is a deliberate structural choice. Short sentences after long ones hit differently. They land with weight. They stop the reader. Cale uses this technique not because he stumbled into it — but because he has practiced it.

Technique: Foreshadowing with Structure

And one more. Near the end of his essay, Cale writes:

"I would not only be baptized, but through the experience, I'd face my fear, learn the significance of baptism, and it would encourage another believer on her journey."

Cale tells you in his introduction that three things will happen. Then the essay delivers all three in order. This is what IEW calls structural outlining made visible on the page. The reader feels held by the essay because the writer made a promise and kept it.

Cale's Essay: An Act of Obedience

2nd Place — IEW Magnum Opus National Writing Competition | Cale M., age 15

There I was, as red as a cherry tomato, basking in the glorious South Carolina sun, a mere eight hundred feet from the Atlantic Ocean's shore. I was 15 years old and a growing Christian. As I sat with my eyes fixed on the horizon, I felt unsure of what was to transpire. Although I had not committed to baptism, I had been praying for years that the time would come when I'd truly understand this outward expression of faith and feel the Holy Spirit urging me to follow in Jesus' footsteps. Little did I know that I would feel a sense of urgency in the next week to do just the thing I had prayed for. At this time, I would not only be baptized, but through the experience, I'd face my fear, learn the significance of baptism, and it would encourage another believer on her journey.
From the time I was an infant, I was terrified of the water. This fear was so great that my mom had to wash my face with a damp cloth. If it was too wet, I'd panic. At around the age of four, my parents decided that it would be important for me to know how to swim. This was largely due to the fact that our farm had a fishing pond, and as I grew big enough to wander, they wanted to be sure that I was safe. It was at our local YMCA that I sat at the edge of the community pool, as the instructor attempted to gently coax me into the water. I refused. I was scared. Fast-forwarding even to the age of 10, the mere thought of dunking my entire head under water gave me goosebumps. Despite my longing for baptism, I couldn't bring myself to willingly go under water. Finally, I worked up the nerve and learned to swim at 11 years old. Although I had now conquered my fear of water for the most part, I still didn't feel compelled to be baptized. I didn't know what it truly meant to me.
Our annual family vacation to Myrtle Beach was going great. For 10 days, we swam in the salty ocean water and cooled off in the crystal-clear campground pool. It was all progressing smoothly until one day, we got a phone call from our farm sitter. My best rabbit had escaped and was nowhere to be found! Immediately, I began to worry. What if a predator had found her? Maybe she had gotten lost? As I paced in disbelief, I remember the words that my mom softly spoke to me. "Your faith is being tested. Pray and put your trust in God." I followed her advice and did just that thing. After getting little sleep that night, I woke up the next morning to a phone call from my grandfather. He told me that my bunny was in the very spot that he had thoroughly searched just last night! That's when it began to dawn on me. In the same way that I had put my trust in God when my rabbit escaped that day, I had put my trust in Jesus for my salvation years ago. Baptism was an outward symbol of that very trust. This act would be my way of showing that I was ready for the next step in my relationship with Jesus.
By no coincidence, this story unfolded on the very last day of our vacation. As we packed our things, preparing to make the long journey back to our home state of Ohio, I made the decision. I was going to be baptized in the Atlantic Ocean that very day. I felt strongly compelled to do this immediately. After explaining to my parents how I felt, we made our way to the ocean shore. As I stood in the scorching sand, praying with my family, I had no idea that my obedience was actively impacting another believer. With my dad, I made the long-awaited walk to the water. In the name of The Father, The Son, and The Holy Spirit, I was submerged under the water to signify the death and burial of Jesus and raised out of the water to identify with His resurrection. Cleansed and born again, I began to part with the Atlantic one last time before going home. I was stopped by a woman whom I had never met before. I never did find out what her name was or where she was from, but she explained to my family that she had just been diagnosed with cancer. She, too, was a believer, but she was struggling through her journey. God allowed her to see that she was not fighting alone. He was there to comfort and protect her. Through watching my act of obedience to God, she was filled with encouragement.
From a fear of water and a lack of understanding to a new creation in God, this is a story that I will never forget. For years, I hesitated and laid baptism aside. It was incredible for me to witness God working in my own life, to impact others in a miraculous way. Most importantly, I recognized that at any moment, years ago or on vacation, I could have chosen to be baptized. It was only that very moment that God put an overwhelming sense of urgency in my heart. Although I may never meet that woman again in my life, all of the time that I spent resisting baptism was for a purpose. That purpose was to impact her and show me that when I obey my calling, good things come of it. As Steven Furtick once remarked, "Great moves of God are preceded by simple acts of obedience."

What This Means for Your Student

Here is what I want you to sit with after reading Cale's essay.

Cale did not write this way because he is a naturally gifted writerl child with a rare gift for language. He wrote this way because he has been building specific, named, teachable skills — one week at a time — for years.

The simile in his opening sentence. The VSS that stops the reader cold. The structural promise made in the introduction and kept through the conclusion. These are not accidents. They are techniques. And techniques can be taught.

The question I ask every parent who comes to one of my workshops is this: What is your student practicing right now? Not what curriculum are they using. Not how many essays have they written. What specific skills are they building, and will those skills be ready when the stakes are high?

Because here is the truth about scholarships and college essays and every other opportunity that will eventually ask your student to write: the committee does not care how smart your student is. They cannot see how hard they worked. They can only read the words on the page.

The students who win are the ones whose words earn it.

That foundation is built now. In 6th grade. In 7th grade. In 8th grade. Long before anyone is asking your student to perform.

Cale's essay is proof of what that foundation produces.