Hugo House and Seattlest: The Lit Series Interview Series with Nicole Hardy

Each year between fall and spring, the Richard Hugo House presents the Literary Series: four events that feature local writers, musicians, cartoonists, and other artists, who are commissioned to create new works of art. Each event features four artists, each asked to create on the same theme. The result is a diverse and fascinating look into various topics, by some of the Seattle area's most talented creators. This week's theme is "While You Were Sleeping", and will be presented on Friday, November 18 at the Hugo House on Capitol Hill, at 7:30 p.m.

Poet and memoirist Nicole Hardy is probably best known for her poetry collections, This Blonde (poems touching on everything from flirting to Bukowski), and Mud Flap Girl's XX Guide to Facial Profiling. The later collection was published in Main Street Rag's 2006 Editor's Choice chapbook series, and some of Hardy's other work has even appeared in The New York Times. Her veracious and witty style sets her apart--and promises to bring a touch of pluck to While You Were Sleeping.

First of all, how did you feel when you were approached by Richard Hugo House to participate in this literary series? Did you feel that your style of writing could lend itself to this focus of While You Were Sleeping?
 
I’d just finished my waitressing shift on a sweaty, busy Friday lunch. I was drinking sparkling water with my feet up in one of the booths, getting ready to start again for the dinner shift. My coworkers had just arrived and thought I’d cut myself when they heard me scream, “Holy crap!” They turned to see me clutching my phone, trying not to cry. (Yes, I’m that girl.) “What’s happening?” my friend asked. “Sherman Alexie read me in the New York Times,” I said. That was a great day.  I’m always thrilled to participate at the Hugo House; but a Lit Series invitation is a big deal—I was incredibly flattered. And nervous. And flattered. I’ve been on that seesaw for several months.   
 
Your poetry has been implicitly personal—did that influence how you approached this project?

‘Implicit’ is probably too generous an adjective. My work is personal, though I try consciously to steer clear of the self-indulgence that can accompany an overly-confessional style. It’s hard to write a personal essay that doesn’t get personal, so yes, my Lit Series essay is about me. And people and themes in my life, including my religious upbringing, which has been a topic in much of my work of late, and is the focus of my forthcoming memoir, Fallen.  
 
Were you able to insert your fascination with pop culture and other “guilty pleasures” into the project?
 
You know me too well.  My essay touches down all over the cultural landscape, referencing The Dallas Cowboy Cheerleaders, John Stamos, Ban de Soleil commercials, Otis Redding, Ann Patchett, and Donatella Versace to start.  And oh, there are more. So many more.

How were you able to keep something like sleep (that is essentially focused on being unconscious) fresh, vibrant and interesting to the audience?
 
I recently remembered that most of my friends and classmates were given the gift of general anesthesia while having their wisdom teeth out. I, on the other hand, was awake. That memory was the inspiration for my essay, which takes place in the present tense, at the dentist’s office. For most of it, the speaker is high on nitrous oxide.

What was most exciting to you about this opportunity to speak at Richard Hugo House—and the chance to speak to Seattle fans?
 
I love doing readings, and Seattle fans have been really supportive of my work over the past few years. Still, when the call came about the Lit Series, I felt a lot like I did in junior high when I got called up from the JV team. I was also really looking forward to writing an essay; it isn’t the genre I studied, but it’s seducing me nonetheless.   
 
Is their anything about this experience that has encouraged you to think about writing in a new way?
 
Besides working outside of my 'comfort' genre, the challenge was figuring out how to manage a speaker who’s in an altered state.  It needed to be clear, but also be disjointed, disconnected. I know what my voice is, and what I wanted the essay to be about; but when you know the audience will be listening to, rather than reading, your work that puts a different spin on things. I generally use long, hyperbolic sentences—and I’m not sure that always works out loud.  I worried about little things: can I pronounce the phrase ‘Phil’s mom’s amphetamine-based diet pills, outlawed in the 70s and imported from Brazil’ without tripping over my words? Can I have a sentence that goes on for half a page without losing the audience?
 
What about you, are you a light or heavy sleeper?
 
Sleeping is my true talent. Anyplace, anytime, as long as I can get mostly flat and all the way warm. On a scuba diving trip to the island of Saba a few years ago, the plane was grounded in St. Maarten because of a hurricane. I met another woman traveling alone, and a taxi driver kind enough to take us to a mini-mart before he dropped us at the hotel we’d luckily found. I was stressed out, so went immediately to sleep; because that’s how I deal with stress. I woke the next morning to sunny skies, and said to my roommate, “Weird; the hurricane never came?” Talk about looks that kill . . . she’d been up all night terrified as the storm tore through the island. I didn’t hear a thing.