Julie Carr
Photo courtesy of Julie Carr
Bio
Julie Carr is the author of four books of poetry: Mead: An Epithalamion (University of Georgia Press, 2004), Equivocal (Alice James Books, 2007), 100 Notes on Violence (Ahsahta Press, 2010, winner of the Sawtooth Award), and Sarah-Of Fragments and Lines (Coffee House Press, 2010, a National Poetry Series selection). Her monograph on Victorian poetry, Surface Tension, is forthcoming from Dalkey Archive. She is the copublisher of Counterpath Press, and teaches at the University of Colorado, Boulder. She lives in Denver with her husband and three children.
Author's Statement
For me this NEA Fellowship came at an excellent time. Having just published two new books, with a critical monograph on the way, I find myself enlivened towards a number of new projects. However, as the mother of three children with a full -time teaching job, and as the editor of a small publishing company, I am in great need of time. The fellowship buys me time in the form of child care.
I can now look forward to a summer spent developing the two poetry manuscripts I am working on, Think Tank, and Movies for Women and Girls, and completing a draft of a prose manuscript titled The Witches House: Poetry, Emotion, Childhood. The fellowship money will also buy me out of a semester of teaching. Because of this, I feel I can give these projects my full attention without compromising my other work. Perhaps those most in need of fellowships are the unemployed and parents of small children. As a member of that second group, I am extremely grateful that I can now focus my attention more fully on my writing work.
from 100 Notes on Violence
23.
The idea to write a book "about" violence. "What kind?" "The close-up kind."
Because I cannot write the words "school shootings" into the little search box.
Later I hear that whatever you write into the little search box will somewhere
be recorded as data in order to better sell you.
What does the person searching school shootings want to buy?
I keyed "guns" instead, but I don't want to buy a gun.
I could buy a gun.
(Ahsahta Press, 2010)