Thursday, November 26, 2009

Pushcart Nomination!!

There is no turkey at my house. No stuffing, mashed potatoes, or any of the other foods and smells that I usually associate with Thanksgiving. I should probably be halfway to depressed. But, while I miss all of that usual foodly goodness, i can't quite bring myself to wallow very deeply. My trusty editor, Robert Ward, emailed me yesterday with some lovely news and an early Christmas gift: he nominated me for a Pushcart for my poem "The Light Becomes Us."


I'm absolutely thrilled/tickled/walking on air about it. (Choose your expression of joy and insert it as you will.) And for a number of reasons - first, well, it's a damn Pushcart, only one of the most prestigious writerly awards! Second, "The Light Becomes Us" happens to be one of my favorite, favorite poems of mine. (Can I have a favorite poem of my own without seeming too self-absorbed?) Anyway, it's a poem that makes me happy, each time I read it, that *I'm* the person who wrote it. Those are the best sort, I think, at least from the author's side of things.


And so, as we enter the holiday season and I am trying to make sure my worklife and my home/writing life remain separate and both lively, I am concentrating on how good a year this has been for me in terms of my creative writing. My first book published in June. My MFA completed in November. Various publications and anthologizations (new word!) in lit mags and journals, and now a Pushcart nomination. Quite the haul for a matter of mere months!


And for this turkeyless Thanksgiving, I am thankful to Robert for all of the support and good juju he has given me. I am thankful to the poets at Spalding (Jeanie Thompson, Phil Deaver, Molly Peacock, Greg Pape, Rosemary Royston, heather Wyatt and many others) for helping me to polish my craft and support this whimsical notion I had to become A Writer. To my mother, Joanne, for her unconditional love and support. And to the rest of my family and friends, both in meatspace and on the intarwebs, who humor me and politely ignore (or unabashedly cheer) my obsession with finding just the right word and rhythm. I am also indebted to every person who bought a copy of my book, either for yourself or for your library or as a gift for someone else - that was a wonderful gift to me, whomever the book ended up going to! I am thankful.

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