The extended one-on-one interview is a favorite form of mine, which was made clear when I realized Iāve done over 100 podcast episodes with various folks in food and culture since 2018. Itās one that can go very well or very poorly; it presents the interviewer intellectually naked. If the prep was insufficient, thereās no hiding. This is why itās also stressful, exhausting. But in doing them, Iāve truly learned how to talk and a new way to learn.
Intense social anxiety struck me at the start of adolescence; Iād been an enthusiastic and gregarious child prior. My voice came to exist primarily in writing, except with best friends: I knew I actually liked someone if I could talk to them without feeling like there was a rock in my throat. A girl on a softball team once told me, though, āYouāre not shy. Youāre quiet,ā which was astute. I think this is why I like to do interviews (despite no longer being quiet): They give me a structure for conversation. When the person Iām interviewing turns a question back onto me, thatās when I might feel the old panic creep up and go into a sort of fugue state. Through interviewing, though, and through being a writer whoās had to at least give a picture of confidence, Iāve come to be more confident in conversation. Itās become one of my best tools, a place for space and nuance, for breathing through life and ideas.
Interviews have not always been easy, but Iāve only had one person who treated me like a complete fool not worthy of their time. From sharing this experience, it seems rather commonplace: Every journalist and writer has a story of the one person who needed their interview thrown in the digital trash, who came to them in bad faith.Ā (Iām talking of culture writing, clearly, as there are different standards for reporting on trauma.)
Lauren Cocking runs the blog Leyendo LatAm, where she talks to translators of literary fiction and poetry.
āI've learnt that interviews require a give and take, which some interviewees are not willing to give,ā Cocking tells me over email. āFor example, I read and research and prepare extensively for each interview, but some people appear not to have read my blog at all, which can be...awkward when they ask what my project is about or who I'm interviewing them for. Note: this, thankfully, does not happen often.ā
Generally, itās true, people are generous, and itās generosity that I believe is the way everyone should go into interviews, on both sides. Iāll admit that I once went on a podcast without listening to it first during an emotionally trying time, and Iāll never do that againāit wasnāt generous!
Usually, though, when Iām being interviewed, because Iāve been on the other side so often, I try my best to entertain and give good insights; I donāt like having any conversation with another person where I havenāt made them laugh, and so I do my best to get people laughing. This is usually easy because Iām from Long Island and to people from other places, Iām already more honest and expressive than most.Ā I truly think nothing of telling people how I really feel, especially after years of quiet.
āI've actually learnt a staggering amount by doing the interviews that I do, and have been able to open doors to places I thought inaccessible in terms of the translation world,ā adds Cocking. āAnd it should be noted that the vast majority of those I've spoken to have been absolutely generous with both their time and advice.ā
When writing for outlets or interviewing folks for these essays, interviews are easy. Theyāre extremely structured and focused, and so long as the person on the other end is interested in talking, theyāre generally fruitful. I canāt think of an interview Iāve done for reporting that yielded nothing useful, no good quotes.Ā
For the podcast, things can get thorny, though thatās thankfully rare. Thereās an idea thatās gotten traction on social media that suggests every exchange of time is equivalent to an exchange of labor, and that has given things we used to take for granted a sheen of the transactional. I like to do interviews and be interviewed because I view it as contributing to cultural conversations and giving insight into creativity, work, and general humanity. As I said, I view it as an act of generosityānot just between the people talking, but with the audience that is listening or reading.Ā
I donāt approach these interviews as āinterviews,ā necessarily. Thatās why I call them āconversations,ā though I wonder if in doing so Iām giving myself too much credit. I love when there is a natural rapport, but letās be honest: thatās rare. I do approach interviews as a space of learning, and though I always do my research, I will absolutely never know everything about the subject (unless one day my middle school crush, singer-songwriter Duncan Sheik, comes onābut even then), and this brings up how much anyone really knows about public figures.
You have to be prepared for the subject to know nothing about you and not to regard you as all that significant, too, and that has to guide the questions, the attitude, the tone. You have to be a bit of a blank canvas while also being recognizable to your core audience, reacting for them. There is a lot of preparation for every one of these, in order to make them feel organic and stay upbeat. Until someone is a superstar, each interview is both an introduction and attempt at hitting new depths.Ā This is the balance.
I like the conversation format that I do for the reason that it is not editorialized, not edited: It is a transcript of what exactly transpired, except for interruptions or non sequiturs. Whereas a feature or profile will, by necessity, put a subject in a neat box with a pretty bow, an interview or conversation can be a lot more honest. There can be a little bit of mess, as there can be in any human exchange.
But people have to trust you to be generous with you, and Iāve realized that though it hurts my feelings, I donāt always already have the trust of every person on the planet. The models, for me, of the one-on-one audio interview areāof courseāMarc Maron of āWTFā and Michael Silverblatt of āBookworm.ā I have become a more recent lover of Maris Kreizmanās āThe Maris Review,ā as well.
I listened recently to Maron talk to Julie Delpy, because I love her and her work, and this time I was paying attention to the details of Maronās own line of questioning. Doing this was actually pretty fascinating, because Maron asks short questions sometimes, kind of bursts in, to make sure the listener has the full context. āWhere did you study film?ā Easy little questions that likely he knows the answers to because of prep, but that I would feel terrible asking in an interview, because the person would assume I hadnāt done any research. But thereās a reason āWTFā has been so successful, and itās that even with these little questionsāor because of themāthe listener gets to learn more about the subject than without them. Listening like this led to me asking myself, Am I overthinking? Am I asking ridiculous questions by not wanting to ask obvious questions?
By doing now 30 interviews in this format per year, Iām setting myself up for some challenging hours. I can admit that I like that challenge and can only hope the conversations donāt feel like a waste of time for the other person.Ā I can admit that the bigger my audience, the more challenging the interview space feelsāthe more pressure there is on me to perform.
In a 2015 profile of Terry Gross in the Times, I read what she says to the author of a memoir off the air before they begin:Ā
āāIf I ask you anything too personal ā I know your book is personal, but say I cross a line, just tell me, and weāll move on,āā she said to Hepola. āāAnd you can tell me anything on the record or off the record. O.K.? Swell.āā
I think this is the lesson Iāve learned now after a few years of intensive interviewing, which is that I need to add some rules and not be so casual. I need to lay the foundation for comfort and intimacy and not assume it, and perhaps through doing so I am also creating a base of comfort from which I can jump in with those little questions for better context without insulting the other person. I need to ask people if there are pieces theyād like me to read beforehand, topics they donāt want to discuss; I need to let them know they can draw a line at any moment. I send questions in advance, but thatās not enough. Harder still is that itās been so long since Iāve interviewed someone in person. Virtually, itās harder to cultivate a spark.
Now through deeper consideration, I know that nothing in the interview context should be taken for granted. As I said: I spent years not being great at talking to people, and now Iām making up for the lost time.
Last Wednesdayās podcast featured Sarah Lohman, author of Eight Flavors: The Untold Story of American Cuisine. This week, itās the incredible Sandor Katzāthe fermentation revivalist behind the classic books Wild Fermentation and The Art of Fermentationādiscussing his new book, Sandor Katzās Fermentation Journeys and how he practices āhumble geography.ā Subscribe on Apple Podcasts or adjust your settings to receive an email when itās out.
Fridayās From the Kitchen for paid subscribers will continue the three-week pantry guide, with a list of my favorite spices and standard dry goods. See the recipe index for all past recipes available to paid subscribers.
Published:
Oh boy, did I work on a REALLY EXCITING piece last week that I canāt wait for you to read!!! Iāve got more deadlines looming, too, and Iām thrilled about itāif a bit tired, to be honest.
Interviews galore, though: Talked to this SXSW Audible podcast āFuturologyā aboutāguess what?āthe future of food. Talked to āBlueprint for Livingā on Australiaās ABC radio about the meaning of āplant-based.ā Talked to Passion of the Weiss, a hip-hop blog, about being āthe most dangerous woman in food writingā (lol) for which I was WILDLY HONEST for some reason!
Reading:
My Struggle Book 5, still, of course. Chilean Poet: A Novel by Alejandro Zambra, stillāit is fantastic. And for research, Angela Garbesās Like a Mother: A Feminist Journey Through the Science and Culture of Pregnancy and forthcoming Essential Labor: Mothering as Social Change! She is a future podcast guest. Leave a comment, if you have questions for her.
Cooking:
I really enjoyed making Meera Sodhaās naan via New York Times Cooking, where I replaced yogurt with coconut milk hit with the juice of half a lemon and the milk with more coconut milk. It came out really nice. I love flatbreads. Please tell me your favorite flatbread recipes or, even better, flatbread COOKBOOKS! Pictured above is the damage we did at my husbandās birthday party.
Good piece. Interviewing is a craft, to be sure. I found it so nerve-wracking in my younger years. Only eased into it over many years and through constant practice. BEING interviewed came naturally, because I already knew from personal experience what the interviewer wanted and tried to give it to them.
Helpful insights on the science and art of the interview. I liked that Julie Delpy interview, too. It was open-hearted on both sides of the conversation.