Suzanne Hartmann discusses new hybrid memoir, The Nail That Sticks Out, exploring personal and community stories.
TORONTO — With the publication of her hybrid memoir The Nail That Sticks Out, professional author, editor, and publishing industry veteran Suzanne Elki Yoko Hartmann joins a growing community of published Japanese Canadian authors who are bringing a contemporary perspective to the psychological aftermath and cultural impact of the internment of Japanese Canadians during the Second World War.
At once both deeply personal and solidly grounded in researched historical fact, Hartmann skillfully weaves together an account of the joys and the challenges she faced growing up half-Asian and half-white, straddling the Japanese Canadian world of her grandparents and her mother and the Caucasian world of her absent father and that of the broader Toronto community.
Alongside Hartmann’s personal growing pains, she paints a vivid picture of a displaced Japanese Canadian community also growing up and growing into its new surroundings, all while striving to retain its essential culture and heritage. Hartmann offers readers a much-needed and welcomed window into Japanese Canadian life in Toronto after internment and shines a light on how the strength and resilience of our elders, and not just the trauma, continues to inspire and inform the generations that have followed.
Hartmann spoke to Nikkei Voice about the impetus to write this “hybrid memoir,” and the challenges and joys of writing about memory and family and community history.
Nikkei Voice: Book projects, particularly personal ones, are often inspired by important people or events in the author’s life. What compelled you to write this book now?
Suzanne Hartmann: I was greatly encouraged by my immediate family, and I also wanted to preserve these cultural memories for future generations. The loss of survivors has led to an eroding of the collective memory—particularly if stories were not shared. Plus, the number of elders who were still living was starting to decline.
I wanted to document the important history of select Toronto institutions and the individuals who helped to establish them (e.g. Japanese Canadian Cultural Centre, Toronto Buddhist Church, St. Andrew’s Japanese Congregation). Currently, many heritage and historical buildings in Toronto are under threat of removal, which feels like an act of erasure for our community.
As I worked on the book, I discovered few resources were available, a dark void of readily available information, lost or missing files or early accounts not written down, and errors in record keeping. I realized I could provide a quality resource for others—one based on facts using skills as a professional researcher and fact checker to verify memories.
NV: How long have you been working on this writing project?
SH: This book has been approximately five years in the making: Two years of writing during my MFA (University of Kings College, Class of 2021), two years finalizing, and one year of production (editing, proofing).
Two-and-a-half years after graduating, two grants received, nine book proposals sent, and two requests to read the full document, I finally signed a publishing contract with Dundurn Press (December 2023), and the release will be Oct. 29, 2024.

Singer Archie Nishihama composed a special song and performed as part of the Centennial celebrations in 1977. Photo courtesy: Suzanne Hartmann.
NV: You referred to this book as being a “hybrid memoir.” Can you explain what you mean by that?
SH: Hybrid memoirs are non-fiction books that combine the personal stories of a memoir with a broader story of learning and discovery.
Not only is this book my story, but it includes snapshots of family and community members in the form of mini-profiles. It also provides a history of the postwar Japanese Canadians gleaned during my research on groups and organizations.
NV: Writing about the past is challenging because it relies so heavily on memory, which can be a notoriously fickle and unreliable source. How did you manage to balance memory with accuracy?
SH: So true. My background in media had already exposed me to standard journalistic practices of seeking numerous sources to verify all accounts. This was enhanced by studies during the MFA program, which demanded a level of proof for a writer of non-fiction. Certainly, creative writing approaches can be applied, but not fictional details. Whenever I interviewed people, I followed up with additional research to confirm what they told me (i.e., other printed reports, historical photos, and documentation, other books).
My aunt Marlene talked about performing in the Sansei Choir at the JCCC’s opening. I asked if she remembered where the performance took place, and she thought it was outside beside the sculpture. Independent of this conversation, I asked my grandmother if she remembered being at the performance. She also thought it was outside by the sculpture. However, when I dug through archival photos of the event, I discovered the sculpture was not built at that time.

Suzanne and her sister during the 1970s Obon celebrations in Toronto. Photo courtesy: Suzanne Hartmann.
NV: This is a deeply personal book, not just reflecting on your own life, but also the lives lived by your relatives and relations. How did you approach writing about family—who will most likely read this book and may or may not be pleased?
SH: Some of the stories were ones we heard many times over the years from my grandmother or mother. In the early stages of thinking about what stories I wanted to include, I reached out to many family and other community members.
I was upfront and honest that I was writing a book. Not everyone wanted to revisit or share their accounts, and I respected that.
After I compiled specific sections, I shared them with those who graciously shared their time and memories to ensure they felt the passages were accurate and reflective of their stories. Normally, a source is never shown a story in progress at other newspapers or magazines, but I made an exception in this case.
Both my mom, grandmother, great aunts, and great uncles spoke to me at length on many aspects, and while they didn’t read their lengthy contributions, I did fact-check the specific content with them afterward.
NV: You expressed that this is not an “origin story” book about the Japanese Canadian experience but rather a “next generation” story. What do you mean by that, and do you think you achieved it?
SH: Originally, my intention was to write a next-generation story. I felt the wartime story had already been told extremely well by other authors like Joy Kogawa and Mark Sakamoto and didn’t need repeating.
However, during my MFA, when I started talking about the work and how I envisioned it, I discovered many people were unaware of this dark chapter in Canadian history.
And it wasn’t just one group of people—these were fellow students, new immigrants, and older Canadians. Additionally, I realized there are many Japanese Canadians who have never heard these kinds of family stories. For whatever reason, their parents and/or grandparents remained silent or wanted to shield them from the truth of what happened.
Before long, it became apparent that I needed to tell the story of what happened to my family during the war to provide much-needed context. Without this background and understanding it’s hard to truly grasp the level of their accomplishments and contributions.

The cover of “The Nail That Sticks Out” by Suzanne Elki Yoko Hartmann. Photo courtesy: Dundurn Press.
NV: What do you hope that readers will take away from your book?
SH: I wanted to recognize the contributions of the people who might not be as well-known but still made a difference in the lives of others. Their desire to share our Japanese culture and arts led to their inspired actions and dedication to creating so many lasting elements of our community here in Toronto—from the buildings to the organizations and groups.
There’s nothing remarkable about creating cultural centres or gathering places—other communities have done the same. However, to have lost everything and yet still want to contribute, move on, build a new life, and leave a lasting legacy in the face of countless challenges—now that is a testament to our ancestors and their unfailing determination.
In a way, this is my gift to the generations of my family that follow. Ideally, I wanted to start a new conversation, not provide definitive answers. This is a new narrative—one that is not focused on trauma and shame but shares the pride in the accomplishments of our ancestors despite hardships—it’s a triumph over adversity.
NV: What have you learned from writing this book, and what, if anything, would you do differently if you had to start all over?
SH: When I submitted the book proposal, the chapters were complete, but there was still the end material to complete. For a work with a lot of research, I wasn’t prepared for the amount of time and effort involved in getting the permissions for quotes. Plus, there is also the extremely detailed work of documenting all the footnotes and bibliography. In some cases, links were broken or moved and needed to be reworked.
NV: Do you have any final thoughts you’d like to share?
SH: I am grateful to have interacted with so many different organizations in Toronto. Much of this is due to my large family and the fact that a large number of Japanese Canadians were relocated to the Toronto area.
While I realize everyone has had different experiences, I hope there are universal elements within the work that readers can connect with and embrace as their own.
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The Nail That Sticks Out by Suzanne Elki Yoko Hartmann is now available at major and independent book retailers.
To learn more, visit www.suzannehartmann.com.