Whiting Award Winners

Since 1985, the Foundation has supported creative writing through the Whiting Awards, which are given annually to ten emerging writers in fiction, nonfiction, poetry, and drama.

Playing in Time
Essays, Profiles, and Other True Stories

Like most of the fight world’s habits, hand wrapping is both practical and ritual. Done properly, it protects the hands from damage without giving a fighter an unfair advantage. Like boxing gloves or a football helmet, wrapping functions as both armor and sword, a protective measure that allows you to hit harder and more frequently than you could without it. One of the officials murmured, “That’s beautiful.” Colonna said “Thank you” without looking up from his work.

Shapeshift
Poems

Turn signals blink through ice in the skin.

Snake dreams uncoil,

                        burrow into the spine of books.

Night spills from cracked eggs.

Thin hands vein oars in a canyon bed.

We follow deer tracks back to the insertion of her tongue.

The Brother/Sister Plays

OGUN SIZE:

So she tells Oya she pregnant with Shango’s baby. Just walked up to Oya with them hips you know and was like my name Shun, I got his baby so you ain’t shit to him. And see Oya can’t have no kids. Everybody know that. Now she scared she gone lose Shango. Which would be good if she left the nigga… But she can’t see that, nah she got to show him how much she willing to do for Shango. How far she willing to go for Shango. So she can’t give him no child, she cut off her ear.

 

OSHOOSI SIZE:

What!

 

OGUN SIZE:

Put it in a bowl and walked it to him while he was watching TV at her house. She ain’ scream or nothing… Cut off her ear and gave it to him. Say, I don’t want nobody but you. Say this mark me as yours…

Debt
Poems

The Banker trails behind me with his abacus

and crowd of yes-men. I hear

the gold coins rub together in his vest.

 

The stoplights remind me. And the scars

on my ankles and the nails in my mouth.

Once my father pointed his finger at me.

 

Once my mother kissed me on the lips in winter.

I could have been a man like those men

 

on the roof, eyes narrowed at me

like diamond cutters. In surgical gowns

and crucifix tie clips, tight bands of wires

wound beneath their chests –

they remind me of me. All in sync

they cup their ears to the antenna.

 

Quiet. The Jew Levine is coming to collect

with his chisels and his sack of flesh.

Volt
Stories

He watched the sky and thought of all the fires the world had ever seen, fires from wars, fires from bombs. So much smoke. Where has it all gone? New smoke curled beneath wisps of old, drifting ever higher, higher. Where does it all go? He inhaled deeply and his insides burned, and Vernon knew all that smoke was now just the air we breathe.

The Afterlife of Objects
Poems

Outside, my grandfather wheeling

a pesticide tank

 

from tree to tree, spraying everything

with thick, white foam –

 

bark, leaf, apple flesh –

salting the garden

 

with handfuls of red sand, dissolving

aphid, Japanese beetle, horned tomato worm

 

as thick as rope. Gone

in an instant, emerging

 

from his fiberglass outbuilding shed, helving

an axe, bright blade, pine handle,

 

to eliminate

a dwarf peach weakened by nesting beetles.

 

O ordinary axe

Playing in Time
Essays, Profiles, and Other True Stories

Like most of the fight world’s habits, hand wrapping is both practical and ritual. Done properly, it protects the hands from damage without giving a fighter an unfair advantage. Like boxing gloves or a football helmet, wrapping functions as both armor and sword, a protective measure that allows you to hit harder and more frequently than you could without it. One of the officials murmured, “That’s beautiful.” Colonna said “Thank you” without looking up from his work.

Shapeshift
Poems

Turn signals blink through ice in the skin.

Snake dreams uncoil,

                        burrow into the spine of books.

Night spills from cracked eggs.

Thin hands vein oars in a canyon bed.

We follow deer tracks back to the insertion of her tongue.

The Brother/Sister Plays

OGUN SIZE:

So she tells Oya she pregnant with Shango’s baby. Just walked up to Oya with them hips you know and was like my name Shun, I got his baby so you ain’t shit to him. And see Oya can’t have no kids. Everybody know that. Now she scared she gone lose Shango. Which would be good if she left the nigga… But she can’t see that, nah she got to show him how much she willing to do for Shango. How far she willing to go for Shango. So she can’t give him no child, she cut off her ear.

 

OSHOOSI SIZE:

What!

 

OGUN SIZE:

Put it in a bowl and walked it to him while he was watching TV at her house. She ain’ scream or nothing… Cut off her ear and gave it to him. Say, I don’t want nobody but you. Say this mark me as yours…

Debt
Poems

The Banker trails behind me with his abacus

and crowd of yes-men. I hear

the gold coins rub together in his vest.

 

The stoplights remind me. And the scars

on my ankles and the nails in my mouth.

Once my father pointed his finger at me.

 

Once my mother kissed me on the lips in winter.

I could have been a man like those men

 

on the roof, eyes narrowed at me

like diamond cutters. In surgical gowns

and crucifix tie clips, tight bands of wires

wound beneath their chests –

they remind me of me. All in sync

they cup their ears to the antenna.

 

Quiet. The Jew Levine is coming to collect

with his chisels and his sack of flesh.

Volt
Stories

He watched the sky and thought of all the fires the world had ever seen, fires from wars, fires from bombs. So much smoke. Where has it all gone? New smoke curled beneath wisps of old, drifting ever higher, higher. Where does it all go? He inhaled deeply and his insides burned, and Vernon knew all that smoke was now just the air we breathe.

The Afterlife of Objects
Poems

Outside, my grandfather wheeling

a pesticide tank

 

from tree to tree, spraying everything

with thick, white foam –

 

bark, leaf, apple flesh –

salting the garden

 

with handfuls of red sand, dissolving

aphid, Japanese beetle, horned tomato worm

 

as thick as rope. Gone

in an instant, emerging

 

from his fiberglass outbuilding shed, helving

an axe, bright blade, pine handle,

 

to eliminate

a dwarf peach weakened by nesting beetles.

 

O ordinary axe