The allure of writing has long been wrapped in mythos—a romanticized ideal of brooding authors scribbling feverishly by candlelight, perched at desks adorned with typewriters, and gazing out of windows overlooking scenic vistas. Yet Hattie Crisell’s In Writing punctures this bubble with poise and precision, offering readers a refreshingly grounded exploration of what it means to be a writer. Through interviews with over 50 authors, screenwriters, and columnists, Crisell unveils a world far removed from lofty imaginings and shows writing for what it is: a job, both ordinary and extraordinary.
The Persistent Appeal of Books on Writing
Books about writing occupy a unique corner of the literary world. Their readership typically includes two camps: practicing writers seeking camaraderie and inspiration, and aspirants longing to decode the secrets of their heroes. Crisell’s In Writing caters to both, demystifying the craft while celebrating its subtleties.
This genre thrives because writing is universally relatable yet mysterious. Unlike manuals on carpentry or coding, writing requires little more than a tool for words—a pen, a keyboard—and a measure of discipline. Yet the result, when done right, is nothing short of alchemy. As such, books like Stephen King’s On Writing, Annie Dillard’s The Writing Life, and George Saunders’s A Swim in a Pond in the Rain keep emerging, each promising a glimpse into the elusive mechanics of creativity.
Crisell’s contribution stands apart for its rejection of grandiosity. Instead of feeding the mystique, In Writing exposes the banality, struggles, and incremental triumphs of a writing life. This refreshing honesty is perhaps its greatest strength.
Unpacking the Myth of the Writer’s Life
Early in the book, Crisell makes a compelling case for dismantling the myths surrounding writers. In one particularly amusing anecdote, novelist Meg Mason suggests that those who position their desks away from windows are “slightly sociopathic.” Yet Hugo Rifkind, a columnist featured next, works with his back to a stunning view. Crisell herself admits to writing this book while gazing out at a charming street, illustrating how these quirks vary wildly.
Such vignettes underscore a broader truth: there is no archetype of the “ideal” writer. For every Virginia Woolf in her garden studio, there is a J.K. Rowling scribbling in a café. For every George Orwell retreating to Jura, there is a Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie penning masterpieces from a cluttered desk. Crisell’s interviews bring this diversity to life, reminding readers that writing environments, like writers themselves, defy universal rules.
The Routine Behind the Magic
At its heart, In Writing conveys that creativity is rarely a lightning bolt of inspiration. Instead, it is the outcome of discipline, repetition, and—most unromantically—routine. Anna Hope encapsulates this sentiment perfectly: “9:47 a.m. is a perfectly good time to start writing.” Gone are the midnight epiphanies or the need for ideal conditions; in their place is the workaday consistency of putting words on a page.
This approach demystifies the writer’s life while affirming its humanity. Writing is neither a superhuman feat nor a perpetual state of suffering, but a commitment to showing up—day after day, draft after draft. Crisell herself acknowledges the necessity of faith in the process, especially since writing, unlike other professions, rarely comes with guaranteed outcomes.
Themes That Resonate
Crisell organizes In Writing around recurring themes—ideas, language, rewrites, and the emotional highs and lows of the craft. Each theme is introduced by a brief essay, which segues into curated responses from the interviewed writers. While the structure may lack the novelty of groundbreaking revelations, it achieves something arguably more important: relatability.
The chapter on rewriting, for example, captures the universal agony of revisiting one’s work. Crisell doesn’t sugarcoat the editing process, but she emphasizes its inevitability and importance. “Although some of the experiences here might fill the aspiring writer with dread,” she writes, “the important point is that everyone survived and kept on writing.” This simple reassurance—that writing, however daunting, is survivable—carries immense weight for readers facing their own creative hurdles.
Learning from Others: The Communal Aspect of Writing
One of In Writing’s most compelling attributes is its celebration of the communal nature of creativity. Although writing is often viewed as a solitary pursuit, Crisell’s interviews reveal how deeply writers are influenced by one another. George Saunders, for instance, reflects on the importance of reading widely and learning from the masters who came before. His own book, A Swim in a Pond in the Rain, delves into this concept, analyzing classic Russian short stories to unearth the mechanics of storytelling.
Crisell herself echoes this sentiment in her conclusion, citing Saunders’s work as a testament to the interconnectedness of writers. Whether through direct mentorship, literary analysis, or simply reading voraciously, writers grow by engaging with their peers and predecessors. This perspective shifts the focus from the solitary genius to the collective tapestry of the literary world.
Breaking the Lore: Writing as a Job
Perhaps In Writing’s most radical assertion is its framing of writing as a job—not a mystical calling or a lofty art form, but work. Crisell’s writers dispel the romantic image of the tortured artist in favor of something more mundane yet relatable: deadlines, word counts, and the everyday struggle to balance ambition with reality.
This pragmatic view doesn’t diminish the beauty or importance of writing. On the contrary, it grounds the craft in something universally accessible. As Crisell points out, writing requires no more innate talent than teaching, driving, or countless other professions. What it does demand is resilience, faith, and a willingness to face rejection, revise, and persist.
The Quiet Joys of the Craft
Despite its pragmatic tone, In Writing doesn’t shy away from celebrating the joys of writing. Many interviewees recount moments of creative euphoria, when the right words align or an idea takes flight. These anecdotes remind readers why they fell in love with writing in the first place.
Screenwriter Georgia Pritchett’s recollection of writing a “biography” of her hamster as a child is particularly endearing. Such stories emphasize the universality of storytelling—the innate human desire to create narratives, however humble or grand.
Conclusion: A Survival Guide for Writers
At its core, In Writing is a survival guide. It acknowledges the challenges of the craft without succumbing to cynicism. It celebrates the quiet triumphs of those who persevere. Most importantly, it reminds readers that writing is, ultimately, a leap of faith.
For aspiring and experienced writers alike, Crisell’s book offers both practical insights and emotional solace. It strips away the mythology to reveal the humanity beneath, proving that the writing life—mundane as it may seem at times—is no less magical for its ordinariness. After all, as Crisell reminds us, it’s 9:47 a.m., and everyone survives.
