Anne Caldwell on the Forward Prize longlist

As promised, some good news – great, even! Anne Caldwell’s The Language of Now has been longlisted for this year’s Forward Prize for Best Collection.

It’s so gratifying to see one of our titles competing with the biggest names in UK poetry; publishers who could buy Valley Press 300 times over with change to spare. I hope it provides a little reassurance to all you scribblers out there that there are still paths for great writing to be formally recognised, wherever it comes from.

The Forward Arts Foundation doesn’t usually make a fuss of the longlist, but I’m told this year’s judges – Sarah Moss, Romalyn Ante, W.N. Herbert, Michael Mullen and Yomi Ṣode – insisted on an unprecedented public announcement, ahead of the shortlist in July. So, a huge thank you to them for making our day, and for their efforts in reading through the apparently 500+ entries.

Here’s what Anne herself had to say, on hearing the news:

I am absolutely delighted to receive news of The Language of Now being longlisted for the 2026 Forward Prize for Best Collection. This book of prose poems is my most lyrical in tone. The writing had some of its origins during the Covid years, when I regularly exchanged prose poems with other poets interested in the form, both here in the UK and internationally. I also had an Arts Council ‘Developing Your Creative Practice’ award to explore the landscapes of peat bogs, in West Yorkshire and over in Finland. I think these particular poems add a richness to this collection. Working collaboratively with a dancer and filmmaker gave me innovative ways of thinking about place and landscape, especially those places that are under threat. I have been writing prose poems for the last eight years and have fallen in love with this form, its endless possibilities and the way it can contain many melodies of meaning. I approach a prose poem a little like a jazz improvisation, then hone the writing once an early draft is down on paper.

Being longlisted has given me a huge boost in confidence, and means a great deal to me as a poet who only started writing seriously when I turned 40. This book is my fourth full-length collection, and second with the wonderful Valley Press. It seems to really resonate with readers, and I have had some very encouraging conversations with them in the last few months since the book’s launch, way beyond the usual poetry audience. I think its personal, intimate tone, and the themes of illness, environmental concerns and life’s fragility speak to people in these uncertain times.

I’d like to echo those final sentences; in fact, Anne’s collection is already our bestselling publication of 2026, and is onto its second print run just four months after release. I wouldn’t go so far as to say it’s a ‘surprise’ bestseller – the writing is absolutely amazing, of course – but people aren’t often beating down our door for collections of prose poetry. Some books just have an extra touch of undefinable magic.

It probably helps that Anne herself goes about the business of being a poet with such unfailing humility and decency, as well as talent – I can’t imagine a better ambassador for the press (and there are many other great ones). My inbox is heaving with messages of goodwill; just the boost we all needed.

I’d love to go on, but brevity is often welcome too (and required, at the moment). I’ll finish by sharing a poem from the collection:

Sonic Chatter

My lover’s words are bats at night, hanging in the trees, waiting for midges to gather, stringing themselves out in convoluted clauses, swooping through the warm evenings, sometimes coalescing into jottings, loose collections, snippets of half heard conversations. His words are musical and delicate. They’re cave dwellers, preferring coolness to heat, the dripping of water over stone, the slow spreading of moss and lichen, the heart’s inner chambers.

His words roost for a while and fall head over heels when introduced to mine in late September. Unexpected juxtapositions delight them and so begins our sonic chatter. Our words soar, zigzag through the night air above the winter jasmine.

I think that strikes the right celebratory tone – long may Anne’s words continue to soar, and of course, I’ll update you on any further progress. Thanks for reading!