• Courtesy Of Ebru Yildiz
• Neko Case

As Neko Case sipped her morning coffee, enjoying a late-summer day in Portland, Ore., while working on mixes for a forthcoming record, I managed to blow her mind. The singer-songwriter, sometimes-member of the Canadian indie-rock outfit the New Pornographers and current Northeast Kingdom resident has had a particularly intense past few years. She's not only recorded the follow-up to her 2022 career retrospective, Wild Creatures, but also written her first memoir. And she's working on a secretive Broadway musical. We were discussing that last project by phone when I baffled her.

"It's not like it's some huge secret; that's just not how Broadway works," Case, 54, said of the musical. "You don't talk about it until it's ready. And I definitely don't want to be the dick talking to the media and saying something like [speaking in a comically deep voice], 'Yeah, we're making a tribute to Don Knotts,'" she continued, referring to the late comedic actor, who was famous, among other roles, for playing Ralph Furley on the classic sitcom "Three's Company." She added: "Which I would totally go to, by the way."

"Speaking of Don Knotts, do you know about the Mrs. Roper Romp?" I asked Case, referring to the annual pub crawl in White River Junction where attendees dress as Audra Lindley's "Three's Company" character, Mrs. Roper.

"Wait, what?" Case demanded sharply. "Dude, if you're going, tell me. I want to wear a muumuu and represent the Kingdom!"

Alas, she'll be on tour when the Roper Romp goes down this Saturday, September 21, so we decided to rain check until next year. As part of that sprawling North American run, Case will make a local stop at the Lebanon Opera House in New Hampshire on Wednesday, September 25. In January, she'll drop her memoir, The Harder I Fight the More I Love You, in which she explores her troubled upbringing — though it's lighter than it sounds. The new album should follow. And then there's that pesky, unnamed musical.

Seven Days spoke with Case about all of those projects, living in (and maybe leaving) Vermont, and trying to make people laugh while they read about trauma.

Writing a memoir can't be easy when you have a traumatic past. Were you hesitant to dive into your childhood memories?

Well, I definitely would have rather written fiction — writing about myself is a little weird. It wasn't so much hard as it was me trying to remember things I hadn't thought about in a long time. For a while, I was constantly focusing on moving forward and I missed a lot because I was always trying to prepare for the next thing.

Was that a coping mechanism for you?

Oh, absolutely. A lot of the stuff I didn't remember, it was because I was trying to outrun sadness. I spent my middle forties really depressed until my body let me know I had to deal with everything I'd been running from. I realized that I had to show up every day and work through that sadness. And it took a long time, but ultimately it was worth it. It worked.

Your new book deals a lot with that sadness, particularly with how it started, as you were growing up and moving around the country with your mother and stepfather. It sounds like you spent a lot of time alone, avoiding a hostile environment. How did that affect your development as an artist?

• Courtesy
• The Harder I Fight the More I Love You by Neko Case

My imagination went unchallenged back then. It had to: It was just me, my imagination and my pets. I formed a very strong bond with nature because I was alone so often as a kid. Not interacting with my parents wasn't healthy, for sure, but it did wonders for my imagination.

When it came time to revisit all that for the book, I tried to remember what was funny about trauma and hard times. Because even in that, there is humor. We all have trauma, and art is its balance. It's one of the only ways you can speak about something that is so hard to describe in other ways. Art takes the trauma and allows you to compartmentalize or even transmute that pain into something else. Art is the crucible for that.

Was it a challenge working in prose as opposed to songwriting?

I really liked writing prose. When you're writing a song, you try to leave open sleeves for people to put their arms into and wear that feeling. It has to be modifiable for the listener if they're going to make it their own. With a book — or certainly with this book — it's a little more bizarre. My childhood was very odd, though I do think it's still relatable. But you can try it on like a song if you want, or keep it at arm's length if you need to.

You've been a Vermont resident for some time. Readers of your book might be surprised to learn you lived here when you were a child, as well.

I did! I lived in Waterville and Johnson when I was a little girl. I used to love the Johnson Diner; that grilled ham and cheese was the greatest thing in the world for 10-year-old me to eat.

Vermont was the place I felt the most at home when I was little. I moved here from Vancouver, Wash., where the kids were so sophisticated with their cruelty. Like, they made an art out of being cruel. But when we got to Vermont, none of the kids cared, no one made fun of you for being poor or the clothes you wore. You were on their team, and it was so welcoming. So after we moved away, I always dreamed of coming back.

But it sounds like leaving again might be on your mind?

I hope not! But it's more than just on my mind; it's on the list of very real possibilities. I'm going to keep making art here until the state says, "You gotta go," but I don't know if I can afford the taxes to live here anymore. It hurts. It feels like you're not allowed to live here, honestly.

There are some incredible artists living in Vermont, and we're going to lose them all at this rate. What do people here want Vermont to be? A giant Westchester County? What are we going for? It's disheartening. I'm doing all I can to stay, but I'm just not sure anymore.

Is that why there are no Vermont dates on your tour? A little revenge for pricing out the artists?

[Laughs.] No, no. We're coming to Vermont, but I'm saving the hometown shows for the new record. We're going to make it pretty special. The record was written here in St. Johnsbury. I wrote the book here. I've written so much of the musical here, and that feels really, really good. I love St. J so much. It's the little town that tries so hard.

With such an impressive career already and so much more on the horizon, did it just feel like the right time to release a greatest hits in 2022 and pen a memoir afterward? And do you think your career can serve as inspiration to young artists, particularly women who may look to you for crucial representation?

With Wild Creatures, it really just felt like, Wow, we did a lot of stuff! And artists so rarely slow down and have time to reflect — why do I have to wait until I'm dead to release a box set? It's easier to curate something when you're alive, right?

Fortunately, the label took the reins on going through my catalog and figuring out what should be there. I'm just way too close to it all. There are songs on my records that are my favorite, but they don't get that much of a response from the audience and I wonder, How come they don't like one? So I knew to let someone else handle that.

As far as inspiring people, well, I hope that happens, sure. I can't really tell how different it is for women in the business now than from when I was growing up. There are so many more women in the industry, which makes me so happy, but it still feels like it's not nearly enough. So I definitely hope anything I write can help change that and inspires people — and not just women, but anyone who wants to be an artist.

I think that's the point of art: to connect with each other. And I love to comfort and to connect with others through my music. Like I said, I'm way too close to all of this, but I think — I hope — that comes through in this book.

Did writing the book teach you anything about yourself?

For sure. I'm realizing now how young 50 actually is. I just feel better prepared for everything these days. I'm wiser, but I don't really feel any different physically. Well, menopause has been hell, but other than that, I feel healthy and awake, and you can't ask for much more.

Is there anything you can say about the musical yet?

Not really. Not yet. I've been working on it for eight years. But it's been an experience like no other, a real master class in songwriting. You're juried, working with other songwriters, so you have to just leave your ego at the door and be ready to compromise. It's actually super fun.

It's nothing like being in a band. Carl [Newman] does 99 percent of the songwriting in the New Pornographers. I just come up with harmonies, which is the freedom and joy of playing in that band. In the Broadway musical thing, I'm in charge, but I need to work with other songwriters. And, man ... if I can release a record, write a book and do this musical, I'll feel so validated for all the work I've done the last eight years.

So, see you next year for the Mrs. Roper Romp?

Yes! I need this in my life. I'm going to get a Kingdom crew together and get our muumuus on.