Search All Winners

Name Sort descending Genre Year
Michael Cunningham Fiction 1995
Charles D'Ambrosio Fiction 2006
Michael Dahlie Fiction 2010
J. D. Daniels Nonfiction 2016
Nathan Alan Davis Drama 2018
Lydia Davis Fiction 1988
Tyree Daye Poetry 2019
Connie Deanovich Poetry 1997
Hannah Dela Cruz Abrams Fiction 2013
Hannah Dela Cruz Abrams Nonfiction 2013
Hernan Diaz Fiction 2019
Jaquira Díaz Nonfiction 2020
LaTasha N. Nevada Diggs Poetry 2016
Trudy Dittmar Nonfiction 2003
Matt Donovan Poetry 2010
Mark Doty Poetry 1994
Marcia Douglas Fiction 2023
Jennifer duBois Fiction 2013
Bruce Duffy Fiction 1988
Steven Dunn Fiction 2021
Anaïs Duplan Nonfiction 2022
Pam Durban Fiction 1987
Stuart Dybek Fiction 1985
Gerald Early Nonfiction 1988
Russell Edson Poetry 1989
Louis Edwards Fiction 1994
Kim Edwards Fiction 2002
Erik Ehn Drama 1997
Gretel Ehrlich Nonfiction 1987
Nancy Eimers Poetry 1998
Deborah Eisenberg Fiction 1987
Thomas Sayers Ellis Poetry 2005
Jeffrey Eugenides Fiction 1993
Roger Fanning Poetry 1992
Anderson Ferrell Fiction 1996

Selected winners

Major Jackson
2003
Leaving Saturn
Poems

In that darkness,

Speakers rose like

Housing projects,

Moonlight diamonded

Mesh-wire panes.

 

What was it that bloomed

Around his curled

Body when the lights

Came up, fluorescent,

Vacant, garish?

 

The gym throbbed

With beats & rage

And his eyes darted

Like a man nailed

To a burning crucifix.

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Amy Herzog
2011
4000 Miles / After the Revolution
Two Plays

VERA: Have I told you about the lesbian who tried to seduce / me?

 

EMMA: Yes.

 

VERA: She showed up at the house, saying she has suck a big, whaddayacallit.

 

EMMA: Clitoris.

 

VERA: Clitoris, right, and she said it would be terrific, and all that. And I said no thank you, and she went away. Nice woman. Very pretty, actually.

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Liza Birkenmeier
2025
Grief Hotel
A Play

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.

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Douglas Kearney
2008
Fear, Some
Poems

I feel I could eat women.

 

Driving alone, I’m hungry,

hawking bus stops and sidewalks.

 

Eyeballs grinding, I harden.

 

My mind, a bulging ice box.

My computer, a deep freeze.

 

The bingeing grows out of hand –

 

my wastebasket coughing up

the napkins hiding the bones.

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Kirsten Bakis
2004
Lives of the Monster Dogs
A Novel

The photo showed a dog, standing on its hind legs, being helped from the door of a helicopter by a serious-looking man in a down vest. The dog seemed to stand about the same height as the man, and looked like a Malamute. The strange thing about it, besides its larger-than-average size, was the fact that it was wearing a dark-colored jacket which looked like part of an old-fashioned military uniform, and a pair of spectacles, and that it appeared to have hands instead of front paws. In one of those gloved hands it held a cane, which was pointed at an awkward angle, probably because of the way the man was holding on to that foreleg just above the elbow. The other hand gripped the side of the helicopter doorway. The expression on the animal’s face was one of terror. Its lips were slightly parted, its ears were pointing straight backward, and its eyes were wide.

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