50th NMW Award for Nonfiction.
Yannick Thoraval of Victoria, Australia for “Learning to Die and Live: 24 Hours in Evacuation”
A taut and measured journey through disaster. In its brevity, this essay perfectly captures how quickly daily life can morph into surreal nightmare.
First Place | Nonfiction Writing Contest XLIX 49TH NEW MILLENNIUM AWARD FOR NONFICTION JR Boudreau of Ontario, Canada for “Pale Shepherd” Boudreau will receive $1,000, a plaque to …
48th New Millennium Award for Nonfiction
Laura Rose of Bucks County, Pennsylvania for “Gracias a la Vida”
A heartfelt essay about the author’s journey into grassroots activism, “Gracias a la Vida” is a crystal-clear reminder that the personal is always political.
New Millennium Writings’ 2019 Editor’s Choice Award
Kristin Kostick of Houston, Texas for “Disappeared”
47th New Millennium Award for Nonfiction
John Baskin of Wilmington, Ohio for “In Search of Leo”
Embarking on a pilgrimage to honor a dear friend and mentor, Baskin travels the French countryside to learn more about the dark time and place that twice nearly took his friend’s life. A brilliant, thoughtful, and important essay.
New Millennium Award for Nonfiction
Kristin Kostick of Houston, Texas for “Blanking”
Who among us hasn’t yearned for a clean slate? Some way to shed all the old hurts and regrets and begin again, fresh and unencumbered as a newborn soul. In “Blanking,” Kristin ponders the power and possible advantages of self-deception.
What if one day you discover you’ve been wrong about your own life story? Marsh Rose reveals the secrets that, for nearly 30 years, her mind tried to protect her from, reminding us of our uncanny ability to rewrite the past. —NMW
At the beginning of Luke Ossani’s yoga class, I am not entirely myself. I’ve somehow lost touch with half of me, the peaceful half, the part that keeps me from quitting adulthood, buying a one-way ticket to Morocco, or drinking one to five glasses of wine per night…
The setting: A Men’s Co-Occurring Therapy Group takes place in an 80+ bed rural addiction facility, in a small, snow covered state, in the freshly painted almost-purple, “Wild Wisteria” office of the psychiatric nurse practitioner who at the moment is screaming silently in her head…
I haven’t had a home since I was 25. Not really. That’s when my mother died. She had cancer and one day, more than a year before her death, I stood at mid-day looking out the front window…
POETRY | FICTION | FLASH FICTION | NONFICTION
