Pushcart Prize Nominations, 2023

great weather for MEDIA is delighted to announce our nominations for the next Pushcart Prize – Best of the Small Presses Series.

These nominations are for work published in 2023 and were selected from our anthology A Shape Produced by a Curve.

Congratulations to all our nominees and good luck! It was very difficult choosing six from the sixty-six hugely talented writers we have published this year.

FROM A SHAPE PRODUCED BY A CURVE:

Jessica Barksdale - So Much Gone

João Cerqueira - The Bottle of Milk

Norm Mattox - Barbecue, not a Picnic

Maria S. Picone - Animal Control

Maw Shein Win - In the thinking jar

Donald Zirilli - I Need Something for a Four-Year-Old Whose Parents Split Up this Year

 

Want a taster? Here are the first few lines...

What is missing is the birthday present you decided I didn’t want, the one that would have made me forgive you for all your generous lack of attention. You know. A ring. A decorative box. A bracelet, a barrette, a pie.
— Jessica Barksdale
 
Maria Kirchner had been in the queue for food at the grocery in her quarter of the city since dawn. She had been up at five and dragged her tired legs up the steep streets of Kiev to the shop, which only opened at half past eight. She was wearing a grey jacket, a white polo-neck sweater, a red cap, and the only pair of boots she possessed. Night was beginning to fade in violet tones and the snow on the roofs struck a contrast with the grey façades. The yellow light of the few streetlamps that worked seemed to shrivel with cold. The city would only thaw around noon. But at that hour men and women were already rushing to factories and government offices, setting in motion a transport system consisting of trains, buses, and a few private cars.
— João Cerqueira
 
my only crime,
sir,
was showing up to a picnic
i wasn’t invited to
— Norm Mattox
 
After Dad died, his pet tiger Marvel paced and chuffed in the backyard cage. I got off the bus with my hand stinging from a paper cut from the permission slip in my backpack. Timmy picked me up on his too-small kid’s bike. It was long enough after the funeral that grownups didn’t pat my head in pity, soon enough that we found ourselves holding in tears until the next bathroom break.
— Maria S. Picone
 
an antelope asleep in the wood
I shop for peanut brittle online
violet strings <> a muscle prediction
— Maw Shein Win
 
I Need Something for a Four-Year-Old Whose Parents Split Up this Year

You know, something tree-like, something hearthy.
It should have lights, candles, a train,
and it can’t ever die. Do you have it in red?
— Donald Zirilli

We are accepting poetry and prose submissions for our next anthology until January 15, 2024. Be sure to check out all our books. We look forward to reading your work.