Tag Archive for: Lisa Van Orman Hadley|the collagist

A new interview with alumna and former Larry Levis Post-Graduate Fellowship Lisa Van Orman Hadley (fiction, ’09) appears online in The Collagist:

“Lisa Van Orman Hadley’s stories have most recently appeared or are forthcoming in Epoch, New England Review, The Collagist and Knee-Jerk. She was the recipient of the Larry Levis Post-Graduate Fellowship and a Money for Women/Barbara Deming scholarship. She lives in Cambridge, MA with her four-eyed husband, two-eyed twins and one-eyed cat. She is writing a novel-in-stories.

Her essay, “Making Sandwiches with My Father,” appeared in Issue Fifty-Two ofThe Collagist.

Here, Lisa Van Orman Hadley talks with interviewer William Hoffacker about concision, chronology, and writing about family.

What can you tell us about the origins of this essay (how/why/when you began to write the first draft or to conceive the initial idea)?

Several years ago, as an undergrad, I read Will Baker’s essay, “My Children Explain the Big Issues.” It was the first time I had ever seen creative nonfiction written in vignettes instead of a straightforward narrative. I liked the playfulness of the form and how much work the title did. I remembered that Will Baker essay years later as I sat down to write “Making Sandwiches with My Father.” My dad had just been diagnosed with dementia (we were still a couple of years away from the official diagnosis of Alzheimer’s). An alternative to the traditional narrative seemed like a way for me to create distance from a situation that was still raw and unfolding. The title (I think I came up with the title first or, at least, very early on) provided a theme to vary on and allowed me to explore different facets of my relationship with my father without being tethered to a traditional narrative.”

Continue reading online at The Collagist.

New work by alumna and former winner of the Levis Stipend in Fiction Lisa Van Orman Hadley (fiction, ’09) is featured online at The Collagist:

1.

The summer before my sophomore year of high school, he teaches me how to make a Reuben.  We assemble ingredients, get them ready so we can add each one as quickly as possible because we must eat the sandwich while it is still hot and the top of the bread is crispy.  I learn his tricks: drain the sauerkraut well (“nothing worse than a soggy sandwich”), use just the right amount of butter on the outsides of the bread, choose the very best Thousand Island dressing you can find because it makes or breaks the sandwich.

When we talk, it is only about the sandwiches.

Reubens have become our art form; he cooks while I drain and assemble.  For a while in the summer we eat a Reuben together every day at noon.

My mother is alarmed by this.  She plugs her nose at the smell of the sauerkraut, her face wrinkles in disgust at the corned beef.  Her taste is not distinguished enough for such things.

By my senior year we are making our own bread and pickling our own cabbage.  We corn our own beef.  We find recipes for Thousand Island dressing in gourmet recipe books and we add our own secret ingredients, making it even better. Read more