Pushcarts are awarded annually—for over 40 years now— for the best poetry, fiction, non-fiction, etc from America’s independent small presses. There are a lot of small presses in my country, so the nomination pool—as a few loud and scornful folks on the internet enjoy pointing out— is not small.
I’ve never been nominated for any writing prize before. I’m thrilled about this one. Sure, a couple thousand people a year get this particular nod. Sure, it’s not as if I have won a Pushcart.
I might. ;) Meantime, there’s a magazine out there (which is great, by the way, you should read it) where the editors believe in my work this much. And in this particular piece of work, which is one of my favorites.
So I’ll be over here raising a glass of Champagne—because it’s a day ending in Y, and also—because I love my work, and some other good folks do too, and they said so right out loud to a national prize committee.
While I’m sipping from that celebratory glass, send me your own Pushcart-nominated pieces, and your friends’, and their friends’. There’s so much lovely literature out there, and the best way to find it is to get it from your own circles. I always need more wonder and gratitude in my life. So please do share. I want to toast you, too.*
*You can find some additional recommended nominations in my Twitter feed. Like this one.