Announcing the Winners and Finalists of the 2017 Neil Shepard Prize in Fiction, Nonfiction, and Poetry

Announcing the Winners and Finalists of the 2017 Neil Shepard Prize in Fiction, Nonfiction, and Poetry

Green Mountains Review is pleased to announce the winners and finalists of the 2017 Neil Shepard Prize in Fiction, Nonfiction, and Poetry! The winners will receive $500 and their work will be featured in our next print issue, 30.1, released in February 2018. The finalists will be published in GMR Online. Congratulations to our winners and finalists!

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White Texans

Louis Offer, formerly Ortega, crossed the border near the rattlesnake hills outside of Rio Grande City. Within a year he’d set himself up as a customizer in a body shop on Spaulding Avenue, his specialty the crafting of hearses from platforms that normally did not ship out as hearses, Jeep Grand Cherokees for example.

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Green Mountains Review, based at Northern Vermont University, is an annual, award-winning literary magazine publishing poetry, fiction, creative nonfiction, literary essays, interviews, and book reviews by both well-known writers and promising newcomers.

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Sunday

Sunday

But I did saw it, and that’s me. I’m seeing all kinds of things these days. You know, The Muffin Man, for example. Saw The Muffin Man yesterday, at the car wash.

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Neil Shepard on the First 25 Years of GMR

Neil Shepard on the First 25 Years of GMR

Last spring, GMR celebrated its first twenty-five years with a 400-page poetry retrospective compiled by Founding Editor Neil Shepard. This was also Neil's last issue before stepping down as Senior Editor. To read through this anniversary issue is to marvel at the...

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Red and Yellow Kill a Fellow

Red and Yellow Kill a Fellow

I’m the green bird staring at your naked morning ass through the window. I think I want to learn Japanese. It’ll help me understand this scenario. I want to learn more about recycling. Then I’ll learn even more about the value of useless things.

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A Prose Is a Prose Is a Prose

A Prose Is a Prose Is a Prose

Poetry had the feeling that they’d always been holding hands, that they sometimes forgot. Prose had the feeling that when they forgot they forgot on purpose. These feelings they had, they had them, then they had some others.

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