It’s a ginormous-feeling, climate-controlled facility with 17-foot windows. COURTESY OF HUGO HOUSE
Walking into Hugo House‘s new (and permanent!) home on 11th Avenue, I expected a wave of sadness to wash over me. The old house was a sagging, gray-green former funeral home with creaky boards, undulating carpet, chipped paint, horrific bathrooms, strange corridors, and a baby coffin in the basement. It was lived-in. A place only a writer could love.
Now it is a ginormous-feeling, climate-controlled facility with 17-foot windows in the lobby, sleek booths where writers can plug away at laptops, quiet nooks for reading, multimodal event spaces, incredible bathrooms, and a leafy courtyard on the ground floor.
