ABOUT HANNAH — ISLE OF MAN BRAND AND CONTENT STRATEGIST
I’ve been the queen of telling stories since long before I knew you could make a job out of it.
Real, imagined or concerning the neighbourhood politics of garden birds, if there was a story to tell, I wanted to tell it.
Back in primary school, I wrote this knockout poem about Queen Victoria in about ten minutes. My year 6 teacher read it, looked at me and said:
“You’re going to be a writer.”
Naturally, I took that very seriously.
Then there was the novella my auntie and I penned about the societal happenings surrounding the birds living in my Nan’s garden. In high school I started a thriller about a group of teenagers with dark secrets, who meet in the school guidance counsellor’s waiting room (I will finish her one day).
I was a chronic over-sharer before the term existed. Family members regularly had to remind me to take a breath as I relayed every last detail of something that had happened that day.
Real, imagined or concerning the neighbourhood politics of garden birds, if there was a story to tell, I wanted to tell it.
I always knew I wanted to write.
I just didn’t know “copywriter” was a job.
from storyteller to strategist
English Lit degree → office job → scriptwriter → dating-agency copywriter → Web3 content executive → marketing manager → smthn
Somewhere along the way, writing stories as a hobby became writing for a living.
Before I knew it, I’d been poached again – this time by a Web3 start-up – where I climbed from Content Executive to Marketing Manager, leading a five-person, multi-office team within a year. It was around then I realised I’d built a pretty useful combination:
proper industry experience with a digitally native brain, a storyteller’s eye, empath’s ear, and a healthy disregard for doing things a certain way just because that’s how they’ve always been done.
I learned how all the moving parts fit together. Strategy. The patterns that work across industries. The seemingly small details that absolutely matter. What earns attention and what wastes everybody’s time.
I also saw just how many people, meetings and moving parts it could take to get one piece of marketing out the door.
Surely there was a better way for smaller businesses to get proper strategic and creative support without hiring an entire marketing department?
Then I got royally screwed by the company that promised me the world.
And in the trenches of redundancy, I decided it was probably time to find out.
There was just one small problem
“Copy Wave” was a post-redundancy, thrown-in-at-the-deep-end rush job. Navy blue. Corporate soup. Disgustingly safe. It did the job, but there wasn’t really an inch of me in it – or much of the kind of business I wanted to build.
At the same time, I was running Twenny Smthn – a lifestyle page about navigating your twenties in an age of social media, comparison and feeling like everyone else has their sh*t together.
It was personal. Vulnerable. Funny. Occasionally a bit too honest.
And people connected with it.
The more of myself I put into Twenny Smthn, the more people responded. Meanwhile, the carefully polished business brand I'd built was boring even me.
Which was a fairly inconvenient – and ironic – way of proving my own point.
People connect with people. With stories. With specificity.
So I brought the two worlds together.
And smthn was born.
And with it, a bit of a bee in my bonnet.
AI slop. Identikit aesthetics. Influencer culture. Copy-and-paste trends. Brands trying on whatever personality happens to be fashionable that week.
It’s all started merging into one big beige blur.
Don’t get me wrong! I like beautiful branding. I’m a sucker for a curated feed. Slap on your Sunday best and get your good side – but, as my momma always told me, looks will only get you so far in life.
The brands people remember have something underneath it all. A point of view. Stories worth telling. Opinions. People. Tiny details that couldn’t have come from anybody else.
And that’s the stuff I’m on a mission to find.
Fair warning: I ask a lot of questions.
I’m nosy for a living. Professionally speaking, obviously.
Clients have a habit of telling me everything. The business stuff, yes – but also the tiny details, strong opinions, half-stories, throwaway comments and “this probably isn’t relevant, but…” tangents.
Especially those.
Because nine times out of ten, the thing you nearly didn’t tell me is the thing I want to know more about.
Storytelling is as much about understanding people as it is knowing how to string a nice sentence together. I’m fascinated by the psychology of what makes us pay attention, feel something, trust someone, remember them – and eventually choose them.
So I listen. I dig. I ask the follow-up question. Then probably another one. I join dots you hadn’t realised were dots and spot the stories and angles that are almost impossible to see when you’ve been living and breathing the business every day.
And once I’m in, I’m in.
I care about the businesses I work with – probably more than is professionally sensible. Your wins feel like my wins, your ideas start rattling around my head when I’m making dinner, and I’ve been known to send the occasional “WAIT. I’ve just thought of something” message.
Basically, I’m the business equivalent of the friend who needs the full story. Screenshots included.
And we’ll have a laugh while we’re at it. Marketing is not open-heart surgery. We are allowed to enjoy ourselves.
Other things you’ll probably learn about me eventually
Currently reading: Yesteryear, Caro Claire Burke
Ideal Sunday: coastal walk → cooking roast dinner with a glass of wine → cosy TV before bed
Unreasonably pleased by: finishing a cryptic crossword clue
Guilty pleasure: choc chip banana bread
Probably rewatching: The US Office
Creative outlets that aren't technically work: journalling, poetry, crochet
Group-chat role: agony aunt / problem solver
Weakness: flat white / aperol spritz (depends on the time of day!)
Also: very capable of both wholesome sunset walks and going out-out
Anyway. Enough about me.
If you’ve got a business with something good in it – whether you can already see what that is or need another pair of eyes to help you find it – tell me everything.
