Where was V I Warshawski while I was working on other projects? We posed the question, and people with way more imagination than I have came up with ideas that were both clever and appropriately cynical. Although this is Chicago, the fix was not in. No money or goods or even services changed hands in determining a winner. Instead, the judging was completely arbitrary.
The winner gets an advance copy of Hardball and a V I t-shirt. There are also two runners-up, who each get a V I Warshawski t-shirt.
Because of the detail and the passion in her storyline, the winner is Marjory (July 28). Mark Casey’s poem was too clever to overlook, and the Bag Lady’s involvement of my personal favorite, Geraldine Graham from Blacklist, make them the two runners-up. Thanks to everyone for taking part. I hope you had as much fun writing as I did reading.
By the way, after our arbitrary panel (consisting of me and my retriever) chose Marjory last night, I had a lurid dream involving Prince Charles. I was in the chapel at Windsor 
as the Queen celebrated the prince’s fortieth anniversary as Prince of Wales. She had given him a sapphire ring, which he showed me and I pretended to admire–it was hideously gaudy.
And then at the end of the ceremony, the Queen announced that as a special present, she was returning his wife to him. Diana suddenly appeared–at which the prince leaped to his feet, screaming, “I don’t want her, I don’t want her,” and ran down the street. I don’t know what that dream means to Freud, but it tells me to lay off Marjory’s posts and hot fudge late at night–bad combo!