Curious Chat #03 with Hattie Crisell

A British writer, podcaster and journalist on not being a pompous arse, following her own curiosity, and viewing reality tv as data acquisition.

Photo of Hattie Crisell by Ming Yeung.

Welcome to Curious Chat!

Each month(ish) I’ll be introducing you to a new person who regularly harnesses their curiosity to do big, creative things. Then I’ll pass the baton, and ask my guest to respond to some questions about their own relationship with curiosity, and we can all hoover up the bits of gold dust their words, and work, leave behind. Curiosity adds color, so here we go…

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You could forgive London-based¹ writer

Hattie Crisell

for having an ego. After all, she has a popular podcast, In Writing, where she’s interviewed over 40 guests, including an Oscar nominee, an Emmy award winner, two writers from the smash tv drama Succession, and many stratospheric-selling authors with household names, like Liane Moriarty of Big Little Lies fame. She’s also written for the New York Times, Elle, Vogue, Grazia UK, and The Telegraph, just to name a handful. A recent assignment even saw her interviewing Eugene Levy, the co-creator of cult comedy Schitt’s Creek — a man whose eyebrows also happen to have a cult following.

There’s a lot of glitz in Hattie’s world. 

But even with all of this starry elbow-rubbing, Hattie remains one of those rarities whose work naturally exudes humbleness. No matter the medium, or what she’s writing about, there’s a specific Hattie-ness conveyed that never feels forced or contrived, and always feels inclusive and friendly — and is often tinged with cheeky lightness, for good measure.

I suspect meeting her in the street could easily lead to one of those awkwardly overfamiliar interactions that you hear about from celebrities. The kind where you, the fan, are certain a new friendship is budding, meanwhile they’re locating the nearest exit because you’re giving off strong Penn Badgley stalker vibes from an episode of You. But it’s precisely this approachable nature that makes everything Hattie does feel so authentic.

This authenticity has earned Hattie a well-deserved following, and I’ve watched her popularity increase over the years — especially in this past year since launching In Writing on Substack, an off-shoot of her podcast. Where the In Writing podcast focuses on well-known writers of all types, and what they can teach us about writing, the In Writing Substack focuses on what all writers — professional or aspiring — can learn from each other. Billed as a life raft for writer’s at sea, Hattie’s Substack is a rapidly growing community for those interested in discussing the writing process, warts and all. Hattie has said: 

I spend a lot of my time thinking about writing, and even though I find it exciting, therapeutic, and frankly unavoidable, it’s also an emotional rollercoaster. Talking about the process helps me. My podcast has shown me that it helps other people too.

Hattie also uses her Substack space to be completely frank and open about her own relationship with writing. Not only does she pass on earned wisdom from her years of professional work as a journalist and podcaster, but she also opens up about her own personal writing hurdles, which any writer will likely find themselves nodding along to in agreement. 

My confidence is unreliable. If there’s one thing I’ve struggled with as a writer, it’s finding the morale and self-belief to push forward, persisting with one project until it’s finished.

It’s this honesty that makes her writing insights so relatable and actionable. Readers never feel like they’re being spoken to but conversed with. In fact, readers who subscribe to her Substack can even participate in a regular Creative Hour with Hattie, where she virtually assembles a room of writers to have a brief chat, followed by writing in companionable silence. There aren’t many writers who make themselves so available to their readers, but you genuinely get the impression that this writerly solidarity is as much for Hattie’s benefit as it is for her audience’s.

And likewise with her podcast — the conversations never feel like she’s just ticking through a list of questions, but rather each episode feels like an intimate conversation between two colleagues. It’s clear that Hattie is just as invested in the responses as we, the listeners, are. This genuine curiosity she displays is likely how she’s able to ask the perfect mix of highbrow and nosy questions — always effortlessly drawing the human side out of her interviewees. But that’s the thing with Hattie; her authenticity is contagious.

With a philosophy degree from the University of Edinburgh, as well as an MA with distinction in creative writing from Birkbeck, University of London, Hattie’s combined areas of study undoubtedly contribute to the unique, grounded perspective she brings to her podcast and writing. Even when writing in the first person, and about her own experience, the broader, philosophical context is always brought into the mix. Hattie’s specific experience, and Hattie’s specific lens, never feel central in her work. They’re present, of course, but the overarching sentiment is that Hattie is trying to map her own experience within the broader context of humanity and life. In other words, the star of the article is never Hattie; it’s the human experience. In a time of selfies, influencers, and me culture, this ability to consistently look outward makes her work refreshing. 

The result of Hattie’s self-awareness as a writer is someone who freely builds connections with her readers, rather than elevating herself into a position of authority. She recently wrote:

Taking yourself seriously as a writer is a good thing, so long as you’re not a pompous arse about it.

Not every writer is able to navigate this fine line successfully, but the grace with which Hattie carries it off is, in my view, someone who’s able to approach life, first and foremost, with a genuinely curious eye.

This is one of the reasons I was keen to invite Hattie to be part of Curious Chat, because there’s nothing performative about Hattie’s curiosity; it’s just there, always present in her work. I hope you enjoy reading her thoughtful responses as much as I did.

Now, over to Hattie…

(A quick note on format: a few of Hattie's answers are one-word responses, and that’s because of how I formatted the interview. In hindsight, that’s a flaw, and I will work on fixing that with future guests.)

Do you consider yourself a curious person?

Yes, definitely.

When you're interviewing people for In Writing, or for your articles, how do you navigate the line between satisfying your own personal curiosity, and the anticipated curiosity of your listeners/readers?

The nice thing about starting your own podcast is that you're not answerable to an editor who may have different views from you about what's important to include – so you can completely use your own judgement. Five interviewers could produce five completely different interviews with the same person; the questions I ask might not be the questions you hoped I'd ask, and there's no way to get around that. But I'm not going to achieve an interesting conversation if I'm preoccupied with guessing what someone else might want to know. I think the only option is to follow my own curiosity, and keep fingers crossed that my audience's interests to some extent overlap with mine.

In general, does curiosity begin on a micro or a macro level for you?

My curiosity is very broad – I generally believe that everyone is interesting, if you can get them to open up. When I'm interviewing writers, there will be several reasons why I thought they'd be good on the podcast. If there was just one specific thing I wanted to hear from them about, they probably wouldn't be a good fit for In Writing.

Do you consider curiosity an essential building block in your personal well-being?

I’m not sure.

What are you currently most curious about, and how do you explore this curiosity?

The common thread through my life has been an interest in writing, and I don't seem to get bored of it – right now, I have a podcast about it, I've recently finished an MA in it and I'm writing about it. It's nothing new either – In Writing almost had an earlier life as a blog, and that was in 2015. I'm not (unfortunately) someone who suddenly gets passionate about gardening or astrophysics and reads a lot of books about it and learns everything; I have a terrible memory for facts. I just love talking to people, and sharing and borrowing ideas. All my curiosity is really focused on creativity, communication and connection.

When you dismiss something as "uninteresting", do you then take a minute to reflect on why you're not curious about it?

Yes.

Do you experience curiosity as mainly intrinsically motivated, or extrinsically motivated?

I draw a lot from other people. Conversation is a huge part of it, and I love spending time with people who are good conversationalists. But even when I'm alone, my curiosity is motivated by listening to podcasts or the radio, doing my work as a journalist, reading, watching TV, and even sometimes looking at social media. I often think about what Julia Cameron says in The Artist's Way – that you have to fill the well of your own creativity, and for that you need to be out in the world (even if only in the sense of reading a book).

Have you experienced a time when you lost touch with your own curiosity, and had to work to get it back?

No.

What do you wish more people were curious about?

I think it's good to be curious about your own instincts. We often talk about 'gut feelings' as though there's something in you that tells you, almost mystically, the objective truth about the world. We say 'follow your gut'. But instinct is a constructed thing based on our life experience. If people have been cruel to you at a young age, your instinct will be much more defensive and suspicious than if you've had an easy, loving childhood. Or you might have instincts that, if you look closely at them, are based on a prejudice or fear that your conscious mind doesn't hold any more; they're just subconscious habits. I'm not saying we should ignore gut feelings – they can be really helpful and instructive – but I think we should look at them with a curious, critical eye.

Do you have a "guilty curiosity"?

I'm fascinated by reality TV. The day Big Brother started, a lifelong love affair began for me – I can't get enough of watching how people behave. It does mean I've spent many hours of my life watching trash, unfortunately. I hope on some level all that data about human behaviour is improving my writing.

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A huge thank you to Hattie Crisell for being part of Curious Chat! There are so many strings to Hattie’s bow, so please do take some time to click on the links scattered throughout above to explore her work more. Plus, she just shared some exciting news this morning about what’s coming next for her, so you can read about that here.

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If you enjoyed reading about Hattie’s relationship with curiosity, hit the heart button below, and leave a comment if anything in particular piqued your curiosity. Like Hattie, I’ve definitely justified my past reality tv viewing as a curiosity in human behavior — but I suspect that could be a polarizing one!

Some quick links where you can find Hattie Crisell:

• Listen to the In Writing Podcast here

• Read the In Writing Substack here

• Follow Hattie on Instagram

• Follow Hattie on Twitter

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If she becomes Paris-based, then remember you read it here first.