In a different time in my life, I would’ve jumped on the chance to apply for this job at the NEA:
As the Grants Management Specialist (Literature), you will be responsible for the following tasks:
Review, organize, and process organizational grant applications from the Literature field, and follow these applications through the complete review process from receipt to final report.
Use expertise in the Literature field to serve as liaison between the Agency and field concerning applications, grants, guidelines, and related policies and issues affecting that field.
In consultation with the Grants & Contracts Office, monitor grantee performance through review of progress, interim and final reports, amendment requests, conversations with grantee, etc., to assure that the grantee is functioning in accordance with the terms and conditions of the grant.
Counsel applicants and prospective applicants about proposed projects in context of published guidelines and with knowledge of field activities and trends as well as agency funding history of specific projects.
Manage items related to special projects that arise. Duties might include managing meetings and convenings, webinar development and management, and other work items as they occur as well as processing cooperative agreements, interagency agreements, contracts, and other government documents.
The posting for this job is only open until MONDAY, AUGUST 18TH, so if you’re interested, you need to get on this right now. Also, according to Literature Director Amy Stolls, if you apply you HAVE to follow the directions exactly or everything will go awry. (Having submitted a fair share of NEA grants, there are probably more opaque directions than necessary. But still.)
The last five days of the eleventh-century Icelandic politician, writer of sagas, and famous murder victim Snorri Sturleleson (the Norwegian spelling, Snorre, is preserved in the book) make up Thorvald Steen’s most recently translated historical fiction, The Little Horse. Murdered. . .
We all know Paris, or at least we think we know it. The Eiffel Tower. The Latin Quarter. The Champs-Élysées. The touristy stuff. In Dominique Fabre’s novel, Guys Like Me, we’re shown a different side of Paris: a gray, decaying. . .
One hundred pages into Birth of a Bridge, the prize-winning novel from French writer Maylis de Kerangal, the narrator describes how starting in November, birds come to nest in the wetlands of the fictional city of Coca, California, for three. . .
At 30, the Mexican writer Valeria Luiselli is already gathering her rosebuds. Faces in the Crowd, her poised debut novel, was published by Coffee House Press, along with her Brodsky-infused essay collection, Sidewalks. The essays stand as a theoretical map. . .
Fantomas Versus the Multinational Vampires: An Attainable Utopia (narrated by Julio Cortázar) is, not disappointingly, as wild a book as its title suggests. It is a half-novella half-graphic novel story about . . . what, exactly? A European tribunal, Latin. . .
Marie NDiaye has created a tiny, psychological masterpiece with her Self-Portrait in Green. In it she explores how our private fears and insecurities can distort what we believe to be real and can cause us to sabotage our intimate relationships.. . .
Reading a genre book—whether fantasy, science fiction, crime, thriller, etc.—which begins to seem excessively, stereotypically bad, I have to make sure to ask myself: is this parodying the flaws of the genre? Usually, this questioning takes its time coming. In. . .
The Sicilian Mafia has always been a rich subject for sensational crime fiction. The Godfather, Goodfellas, and The Sopranos worked the mob’s bloody corpses and family feuds to both entertainment and artistic value. Giuseppe di Piazza’s debut novel attempts this,. . .
Antoine Volodine’s vast project (40 plus novels) of what he calls the post-exotic remains mostly untranslated, so for many of us, understanding it remains touched with mystery, whispers from those “who know,” and guesswork. That’s not to say that, were. . .
It hasn’t quite neared the pitch of the waiting-in-line-at-midnight Harry Potter days, but in small bookstores and reading circles of New York City, an aura has attended the novelist Elena Ferrante and her works. One part curiosity (Who is she?),. . .