We caught up with the brilliant and insightful Natasha Israni a few weeks ago and have shared our conversation below.
Hi Natasha, thanks for joining us today. Can you talk to us about how you learned to do what you do?
In my case, learning what I do now involves some unlearning of what I did earlier. After working for over fifteen years as a multimedia journalist, I decided to immerse myself in fiction, and recently wrapped up the seventh draft of my first novel.
As a journalist, I knew how to write news stories, both long and short form, for magazines, newspapers, international news agencies, and broadcast networks. I also knew how to report on camera, as well as produce, film, and edit television news stories. I realized at the outset that writing a book would be different but didn’t quite know how long the drafting and rewriting process would take, and what skills would be required. I found that I had to build on the writing and deep dive investigation skills I’d already honed, while also unlearning some reporting habits.
For instance, I had to curb some of my “telling” tendencies as a reporter, transforming that instead to “showing” scenes to the reader, evoking emotions, feelings, and also a sense of curiosity through completely different strategies. I had to learn to immerse the reader in five senses and avoid the tendency for information dumping.
Building worlds for readers is a playful dance of artistic expression, honing the craft of words at the cellular level, implementing larger plot and structural devices, while also giving oneself space for creative daydreaming. All without going back to school for a Masters in Fine Arts (MFA). And even if one did learn this process in school, writing would still inevitably involve learning while on the job and being open to ongoing creative influences.
Thankfully, I started working with editors to guide me along with the various stages of rewriting, to give me feedback and tell me what was working and what wasn’t, and that helped a lot.
As always, we appreciate you sharing your insights and we’ve got a few more questions for you, but before we get to all of that can you take a minute to introduce yourself and give our readers some of your back background and context?
I’ve always been curious, asking a gazillion questions since I was a child. Drawn to words, narratives, stories, people, places, and travel — journalism was the right fit for many years. Initially, I served as a correspondent for India’s largest English news magazine at the time, India Today, in Mumbai, and later, after studying broadcast journalism at New York University, as a New York-based news producer for Reuters Video News, one of the world’s largest international television news agencies.
In parallel to producing for Reuters, I also worked as an on-camera general news U.S. consultant for Times Now, India’s leading English television news network. Based out of New York City, I’ve covered a dizzying array of stories, from red carpet movie premieres and art auctions to U.S. presidential elections, U.N. Security Council resolutions, General Assembly debates, international affairs, human-interest stories, New York Fashion Week, the New York Stock Exchange, and so much more.
On any given news day, I would shuttle between four to five different assignments that took me from interviewing celebrities about their latest work to covering exhibitions at museums, to a keynote speech by a visiting dignitary at the U.N. There’s certainly no dearth of national and international breaking news in a New York newsroom! And as the U.S. Bureau Chief for Times Now, I wasn’t limited to East Coast stories either. I’ve traveled on assignment all over the country, as well as abroad, including Trinidad and Tobago, Mexico, Canada, and once even flying to India, where I’m originally from, with the White House Press Corps Pool as we followed President Barack Obama on his first state visit to the country.
But after having interviewed hundreds of people, and written, produced, and reported thousands of stories, not just for the media outlets mentioned above, but others too, immersing myself in all manner of news stories for over fifteen years, I started feeling the call to explore deeper mysteries of fate, destiny, consciousness, and leave something behind that would last longer than the ever-shortening news cycle.
Inspired by mystical experiences in India when I was much younger and eager to tell a coming-of-age story pushing the boundaries of a traditional cancer survivor’s tale, I decided to write a novel exploring a cancer-stricken young woman’s mysterious interactions with two gifted empaths whom she suspects might be twin ancient demigods in human disguise.
A Western spiritual seeker might think of India as a place to go to find answers to universal questions—Who am I? Why am I here? Do past lives exist? What happens after death? But what if a modern, ambitious young college student already in India in the 1990s sought to explore consciousness, and the links between mind, body, and spirit, where would she go? What would she ask? Especially if she was in the middle of also battling cancer? And finding herself irresistibly drawn to two young men with an uncanny knack for not only reading her mind but also predicting her fate, as well as that of humanity?
Other than the novel (working title — Monsoon Gods), now in its seventh draft, and soon in search of a publishing home, what I hope to do with my writing, be it on my blog, social media, for literary magazines, or elsewhere, is to explore what it means to be a perpetual growth-seeker in a fast-paced technologically driven world. I see myself as someone who not only studies ancient and contemporary wisdom on mindfulness but also continually then tries adapting and reinventing those learnings to create centeredness and a state of natural flow sought by the yogis and philosophers of previous eras. That’s why I like to call myself a storytelling yogi, where it isn’t only about the physical asanas, and the traditional definition of the union between mind, body, and spirit, but also about being essentially curious by nature, eager to expand one’s limit as a human, and to stay growth-oriented, in everything from friendships, and parenting, to wellness.
What does an effort at expansion of consciousness mean for a modern New York woman? What does a yogi look like between juggling children’s schedules over various apps; cooking dinner; consuming and processing podcasts, news, and then creating; writing books; looking after family obligations; watching sci-fi shows on Netflix; traveling often; appreciating nature and animals around her, all the while also exploring larger questions—is mankind in the middle of a collective leap in consciousness? Surrounded and swamped by information, both artificial and human, how do we have an original thought in 2024? And many more such explorations at the intersection of quantum physics, spirituality, mysticism, mindfulness, psychology, philosophy, and holistic living.
Through my work, I hope to inspire others to seek and embody their own version of “flow” because eventually we are all fractals of an interconnected larger consciousness. And the more at peace each fractal is, so is the overall world. The end of war and conflict does not only start with international treaties, but it also starts with each human being more at peace with all our conflicting and often extremely reactive instincts, not just about things like political opinions, but also day-to-day smaller irritations, as well as the emotional baggage we all carry. So, how do we as humans ease these and build more magical, healthy, calm spaces in our heads, and then outward with our families, communities, countries?
Is there something you think non-creatives will struggle to understand about your journey as a creative?
Yes, absolutely. Let me give you my specific example. I came from journalism, which, whether you’re doing short or long-format journalism, is still comparatively very fast-paced. Even the investigative magazine pieces I did took, at most, a few weeks.
When I was with TV, we were covering events live, so there was no time lag at all. News packages would be produced within hours, the same day, or the next day. And only a few in-depth feature stories were once again given the luxury of a few weeks. So, the speed and turnaround were quick. I will say that editing and writing and speaking live do have creative elements too, but it’s still limited to tight time frames and fixed parameters.
As a journalist earlier, I did not understand how the drafting process of a novel can take years, be messy and chaotic, and resolve at its own sweet, glacial pace. And then, even after the novel feels like it’s reached the highest form the writer could take it after several drafts, the literary agent and publisher would still likely need further edits. So, the editing layers continue to unwind even after the novelist has submitted work to these professionals. Now, this of course changes from writer to writer. I will most likely create my second book faster, but still, we are talking about years, not days or weeks.
Coming from the journalism world, my own understanding of the novel writing process, techniques like showing rather than telling, were big wake-up calls to how creative writing is so very different from reportage. I think non-creatives might fail to understand that this is more of an organic process that is not always driven by the number of words written, or chapters wrapped, or deadlines reached, but it’s also about how your creative brain operates and how it builds on thoughts and refines them, how it processes feelings, emotions, and inputs from the outer world. That is why most novels go through an average of seven drafts. In my case, it’s going to be more, especially being my first novel!
So, I think non-creatives might struggle to understand how creative time operates differently from discrete time, or how the layers that are involved in the creative act are not only individualistic but also sometimes wildly unpredictable, and how, at the end of it, the creative act doesn’t ever end. As Rick Rubin writes in the title of his book, “The Creative Act: A Way of Being”—it is a way of being, rather than doing, an ever-unfolding process.
You may eventually wrap up a project and say, “This is the best that I could take it at this stage,” and then release it out into the world. But the creative process itself never really finishes and is always informed not just by other creative work, but by the unraveling and receptivity and changes of your own brain, and others around you, as well as the collective unconscious.
My creative process as a writer may be informed by what I see out of the window, what I’ve read, the way my muscles feel when I walk, by the art that I appreciate. It may be informed by how the river flows, by memories, not only our own but also of others too. So, it’s enriched by multiple ever-changing streams. And it cannot be confined to a set template, or office cubicle. It is informed by the creative, chaotic forces of life itself. That in my case includes psychology, philosophy, quantum physics, Indian mythology, mysticism, spirituality, among others.
And I think the one thing that’s common to writers and novelists is curiosity. They are curious about how the world works. They may be curious about completely different things, of course, but they do tend to be mind explorers. And the topics of curiosity also evolve. For instance, these days, I’m very curious about symbols and patterns in nature, as well as what people call angel numbers, repeating numbers like 11:11 and 222. So, I think in that sense, our work as creatives and as artists is not only building layers but linking them too, always exploring, always being open to new and old influences, and being open to the process of editing, of releasing things, of letting go, of welcoming the new, while building upon older lessons, learnings, and experiences.
And this whole process can take some very unconventional paths, circuitous ways, unplanned, serendipitous. And, while I do believe creative work of any kind involves discipline too, it just often needs sometimes more room to breathe, and flow, and get crazy, versus non-creative acts that might follow form more strictly.
At times, conversations with friends have influenced dialogue in my book unexpectedly, and I couldn’t predict when or which draft they would impact. In that sense, the creative process is not refined or definite, unlike a non-creative act, which may be more technical in nature. However, I also believe that all fields have an inherently creative aspect to them. Whether you’re making a marketing presentation or work in finance, there’s room for interpretation, analysis, and creative interpretation.
In the creative field, these layers are often more subtle and numerous, akin to the layers of the Lebanese dessert baklava made of phyllo dough, nuts, and soaked in honey and syrup.
What do you find most rewarding about being a creative?
Essentially, I consider myself a wanderer and wonderer, with nomadic tendencies, always intrigued by multiple interests. My mind is constantly brimming with questions, ideas, musings, and more questions. I truly relish the freedom of being creative, where everything in life informs creativity. For instance, engaging in daydreaming counts as work! Novelists construct entire worlds from thin air, even if inspired or influenced by other books and creations. What I particularly enjoy about the creative life is the freedom to explore diverse directions without constraints. I am fascinated by sacred geometry, interstellar space, and equally captivated by the soulful love stories of Turkish author Elif Shafak, as well as the mysticism of Rumi and Khalil Gibran. I am drawn to science fiction and space explorations, but also to philosophical sayings about the mind-body-spirit balance. I study aspects of western psychology, but I also love the meditative disciplines and techniques inherent to Buddhism.
Being creative allows me to delve into these seemingly disparate spheres, though in my mind, everything is interconnected. I also relish the aspect of interacting with different people, a sentiment I’ve carried from my days in journalism. Interviewing diverse individuals enriches my understanding and influences character portrayal in my novels. I love this creative life and am learning to bring some order to it while maintaining a flow.
Establishing systems while fostering creativity is entirely feasible, and I feel I’m hitting my stride in balancing these elements. It took time to reach this point, especially with the transition from journalism taking place while my children were still small. And then other unpredictable factors came up like the pandemic, which gobbled up writing time as the children were always at home, doing remote learning.
Even now, balancing family, parenting, household chores, community building, while creating art, and carving time for self-care is a perennial juggle. I just think I’ve learned a few things about how to better utilize tools to facilitate that flow, and how to give myself some grace. Maintaining an open, wandering, and curious mind that is not afraid of “failing,” and that can be strong amidst vulnerability, is essential as a baseline.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://www.natashaisrani.com
- Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/natashaisrani
- Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/AuthorNatashaIsrani
- Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/natasha-israni/