Pushcart Nominees

We were thrilled, this year, to be able to make our official nominations for the Pushcart Prize.

Read the nominated works, excerpts, and check out the books they were published in!

The Butcher & The Breather

5 Short Stories by Allan Shapiro

Nominations from this volume include the title story as well as Being Chased by the CIA On a Warm Summer Night,  and the following excerpt from Practical Mechanics of Reverberation.

Many months later, after many more things have happened in the lives of Jacob and Esau, one day the new Haitian apartment manager will knock on the door of Daphne and Jacob’s. Jacob will answer and will listen as the new Haitian apartment manager explains that he is checking all the apartments for holes in the paint, and he will ask Jacob if he has any holes in his paint.bb_cover_small.jpg

Root Exposure (Anthology)


Author: Stephanie Rogers

Essay: The Longest Day of the Year

“It’s not dark enough yet.”  I could just make out the silhouette of her kind face and large body as her whisper rode the night breeze beside me.  “We have to wait until it’s completely DARK.”

Jean was tired.  I had seen it as we readied for The Water Ceremony.  The lines in her face were deeper and she had even more trouble walking.  My own knees were feeling the stress of the miles of hills we had climbed since our arrival at Sun Camp the day before and even the children were showing signs of strain.

Author: Emily Gibson

Essay: Silent Sentinel

Our woodlot lies quiet, dying,  yet expectant this time of year. Over the past twelve years, numerous high wind storms have snapped trees or uprooted them completely.  They rest where they have fallen, a crisscross graveyard of trunks blocking paths and thwarting us on the trails. Years of leaves have fallen undisturbed, settling into a cushiony duff that is spongy underfoot, almost mattress-like in its softness, yet rich and life-giving to the next generation of trees.

Author: Persephone Vandegrift

Fiction: Dream Baby,  Dream

She staggered precariously to the edge of the moor, allowing the panorama of the bleak landscape to spill out around her, and her eyes to slowly adjust to the unnatural light. She had never been this far from home but this was how she imagined it would be if she had. She listened intently to her lungs reacting to the reality of the immeasurable green and brown earth in front of her. Tiny gasps, as quiet as whispers, were released as a soft curtain of fog tickled the space around her. The air smelled both wet and dry as it mingled with the sweetness of leftover heather. She was sure it was that sweetness which was intentionally making her dizzy.

Listening to the earth sigh under the weight of her boots, she watched the fog ripple and separate in front of her as she progressed forward. It was lighter than cobwebs suspended from old attic beams, which was where she found the directions to this place, in her attic. This was strange because she did not know she had an attic. Yet she specifically recalled ascending the half-lit staircase to a dust-layered floor, seeing the old trunk squatting in the corner, her hands pushing it open, looking down at an old map, standing at the bottom of the staircase, and then screaming at the top of her lungs for someone to be quiet. And now, finally she was here, standing in the most beautiful place in the world.