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.
The thing was, Luisa had been bored. She’d been bored since she got back from Paris. She’d been bored in Paris, too. In Paris, people kissed on the boulevards. That was how bored they were. She’d participated in the Experiment in International Living. It had produced Negative Results. Her Experiment family, the Girauds, had apparently been specific about requesting a boy, an American boy. Luisa felt like a midlife “mistake” on the part of Mme Giraud. She’d eavesdropped on Mme Giraud in conversation with her neighbors. The neighbors had been expecting a boy.
We are the nothing-to-lose ones,
the try-anything-once ones,
weed seeds inside our cells –
dandelion, nettle, lizard tail –
roots sunk in, for it is the tips
that count, reaching out to tap
new moisture. Roots, stems, leaves,
the stomata, those little mouths
opening, closing, sucking in air
in the evening when we boil
wild ginger and sleep in its vapor.
Like cures like, we hear in the morning
when we brush ourselves with
vegetable fiber in the shower,
beat ourselves with our fists.
(This is no crazier than anything else.)
WEN CHANG
he was leading students in an obscene chant.
SAUL
what'd he say?
WEN CHANG
"u.s.a. u.s.a."
SAUL
oh come ON, that's every titty bar in america.
WEN CHANG
surrounded by student protestors in white headbands. it was a clear political protest. a declaration of war.
SAUL
war?! are you crazy?
WEN CHANG
less than twenty-four hours on chinese soil and this is what he does. how could you do this to me?
WINN – How’s Melba?
EM – She told me she could see the afterlife.
WINN – What’s it like?
EM – Or my afterlife. She said that I would be a few other things when I die, that my cells have tiny souls so when I am a piece of cheese and a pigeon, I will still be me, but my consciousness will be broken down into smaller bits.
WINN – Does that feel happy to you?
EM – I don’t care. I’ll be like a deconstructed sandwich. / Or baby.
NAT TURNER
What do you mean by your copyright?
The right to copy?
THOMAS R. GRAY
Yes, well, the right to publish and distribute, which involves copying necessarily.
NAT
And who can grant such a right?
THOMAS
The copyright office, naturally.
NAT
...
THOMAS
It protects the rights of the man who has done the work.
NAT
And is God not a sufficient witness of our works?
THOMAS
Uh,
No.
I couldn’t move. The ground was tiny, an aerial map, rich in detail, and the wind tugged at my feet. What were the commands? Arch, I whispered. Arch arch arch. That was all I could remember. I stood up, gripping the side of the opening, my feet balanced on the metal bar beneath the doorway, resisting the steady rush of wind. The jumpmaster shouted again. I felt the pressure of his fingers. And then I was gone. I left the plane behind me and fell into the air.
The thing was, Luisa had been bored. She’d been bored since she got back from Paris. She’d been bored in Paris, too. In Paris, people kissed on the boulevards. That was how bored they were. She’d participated in the Experiment in International Living. It had produced Negative Results. Her Experiment family, the Girauds, had apparently been specific about requesting a boy, an American boy. Luisa felt like a midlife “mistake” on the part of Mme Giraud. She’d eavesdropped on Mme Giraud in conversation with her neighbors. The neighbors had been expecting a boy.
We are the nothing-to-lose ones,
the try-anything-once ones,
weed seeds inside our cells –
dandelion, nettle, lizard tail –
roots sunk in, for it is the tips
that count, reaching out to tap
new moisture. Roots, stems, leaves,
the stomata, those little mouths
opening, closing, sucking in air
in the evening when we boil
wild ginger and sleep in its vapor.
Like cures like, we hear in the morning
when we brush ourselves with
vegetable fiber in the shower,
beat ourselves with our fists.
(This is no crazier than anything else.)
WEN CHANG
he was leading students in an obscene chant.
SAUL
what'd he say?
WEN CHANG
"u.s.a. u.s.a."
SAUL
oh come ON, that's every titty bar in america.
WEN CHANG
surrounded by student protestors in white headbands. it was a clear political protest. a declaration of war.
SAUL
war?! are you crazy?
WEN CHANG
less than twenty-four hours on chinese soil and this is what he does. how could you do this to me?
WINN – How’s Melba?
EM – She told me she could see the afterlife.
WINN – What’s it like?
EM – Or my afterlife. She said that I would be a few other things when I die, that my cells have tiny souls so when I am a piece of cheese and a pigeon, I will still be me, but my consciousness will be broken down into smaller bits.
WINN – Does that feel happy to you?
EM – I don’t care. I’ll be like a deconstructed sandwich. / Or baby.
NAT TURNER
What do you mean by your copyright?
The right to copy?
THOMAS R. GRAY
Yes, well, the right to publish and distribute, which involves copying necessarily.
NAT
And who can grant such a right?
THOMAS
The copyright office, naturally.
NAT
...
THOMAS
It protects the rights of the man who has done the work.
NAT
And is God not a sufficient witness of our works?
THOMAS
Uh,
No.
I couldn’t move. The ground was tiny, an aerial map, rich in detail, and the wind tugged at my feet. What were the commands? Arch, I whispered. Arch arch arch. That was all I could remember. I stood up, gripping the side of the opening, my feet balanced on the metal bar beneath the doorway, resisting the steady rush of wind. The jumpmaster shouted again. I felt the pressure of his fingers. And then I was gone. I left the plane behind me and fell into the air.