Search All Winners

Name Sort descending Genre Year
Jesse McCarthy Nonfiction 2022
Shane McCrae Poetry 2011
Tarell Alvin McCraney Drama 2007
Alice McDermott Fiction 1987
Reginald McKnight Fiction 1995
John McManus Fiction 2000
James McMichael Poetry 1995
Scott McPherson Drama 1991
Jane Mead Poetry 1992
Suketu Mehta Fiction 1997
Suketu Mehta Nonfiction 1997
Morgan Meis Nonfiction 2013
Ellen Meloy Nonfiction 1997
Michael Meyer Nonfiction 2009
Meg Miroshnik Drama 2012
Albert Mobilio Fiction 2000
Albert Mobilio Poetry 2000
Gothataone Moeng Fiction 2024
Lara Mimosa Montes Fiction 2026
C.E. Morgan Fiction 2013
Wright Morris Fiction 1985
Wright Morris Nonfiction 1985
Sylvia Moss Poetry 1988
Thylias Moss Poetry 1991
Brighde Mullins Drama 2001
Nami Mun Fiction 2009
Manuel Muñoz Fiction 2008
Yannick Murphy Fiction 1990
Yxta Maya Murray Fiction 1999
Lawrence Naumoff Fiction 1990
Nana Nkweti Fiction 2022
Howard Norman Fiction 1985
Bruce Norris Drama 2006
Josip Novakovich Fiction 1997
Josip Novakovich Nonfiction 1997

Selected winners

Celine Song
2026
Endlings

GO MIN
숙자야 (Sook Ja-yah)
I wasn’t born here, did you know that?
I’ve never told you that before
I was born on an island nearby
Really close, only a few hours away on a boat
A matchmaker bought my brother a drink
So he told her that he had the perfect bride for her client
An exceptional swimmer
A hearty bruise-woman
For a guarantee of lifetime of income
He gave me away
My big brother sold my life for a drink
And that’s my immigration
A little immigration of my own
Just to be beaten up by the sea waves all day
And then beaten up by my loser drunk husband all night

Silence

숙자야 (Sook Ja-yah)
What do you want to do in your next life?
In my next life
I want to drive a car
A little red one
Drive it everywhere
Go see the mountains
The big buildings
Drive it across the prairies
Take the highway
I don’t have a driver’s license
I can’t take the written test because I can’t read
But when I see someone drive a car on TV
It looks easy
I think I could do it
I think I’d be good at it
Maybe I could drive a cab
Drive people around
What do you think?
You think I’d be good at it?

Beat

숙자야 (Sook Ja-yah)
In your next life
I hope you get to live the way you want

Silence
 

Read More >
Tony Tulathimutte
2017
Private Citizens
A Novel

After a sleepless sexless night, Henrik asked Lucretia over muesli where the nearest pharmacy was. She made her worst face and asked why. He said he needed prescriptions filled—at this, she became a flurry of snorts and book recommendations, declaring that Western medical institutions profited by aggravating illness; Big Pharma was a cartel, doctors were pushers, patients were junkies. She asked to see what he was taking, and when she laid eyes on his briefcase-size pill case, she looked like he’d just told her he was born without a heart. She made him lie down, and sent up gasps researching his prescriptions on her naturopathic reference sites. He wasn’t disordered, she assured him; society was. Manic conservatives, depressive liberals. Mood-swinging markets and a demented climate. Rich against poor, white against unwhite. Henrik was just American.

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Joan Naviyuk Kane
2009
The Cormorant Hunter's Wife
Poems

I live brokenly and assemble together

Weakly – from long bone of the arm, hip

Rollicking in its socket, and the jaw,

 

Its brux. From the lip of a wooden

Bowl carved from the knot of a limb

Drifted, my name was given on water

 

And laid down like hail upon my tongue.

It’s become a bewilderment of white –

It snows. It does snow. It is snowing.

Read More >
Morgan Meis
2013
Ruins
Selected Essays

… I used to love it when it would rain in Los Angeles. I felt that the city was made suddenly reflective by the rain, that it was being coated in another, deeper layer of what it was by the falling moisture. It made me sad and that pleased me. It was a moment of relief from what I took to be the exhausting project of pretending to be happy all of the time.

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Diannely Antigua
2020
Ugly Music

The last time I cried to your picture

was the anniversary of my grandmother’s death.

It was about her and you and how

all the things I could touch would disappear,

like your hand or dirty boxers on the floor,

or the liver spots on her arms, the space

of her missing tooth.

 

I’ve been having that dream again.

The one where I make a fortune selling my used underwear 

and I buy her a tombstone. 

Read More >
Layli Long Soldier
2016
WHEREAS
Poems

I don't trust nobody

 

             but the land I said

 

I don't mean

 

present company

 

of course

 

you understand the grasses

 

hear me too always

 

present the grasses

 

confident grasses polite

 

command to shhhhh

 

shhh listen

Read More >