Olivia Sprinkel

1. Please tell us a bit about yourself and your work.
I am a writer of narrative non-fiction and poetry, inspired by the natural world. My debut book, To Hear the Trees Speak, was published in May 2025. It tells the story of my journey to visit and learn from ten trees around the world. It’s a blend of nature writing, travel writing and memoir – with coming to terms with childlessness being one of the themes.

2. Has writing always been a focus for you, or was it a Plan B? 
My mother says she always knew I was going to be a writer. I’ve been writing stories since I was six years old, if not earlier. A story of mine was shortlisted in the Pony Magazine short story competition when I was about eight. I studied English and French at university, and continued to write while pursuing a career in communications, and later focusing on sustainability.

I had a lightbulb moment in 2012, when I was 38, and realised I had to take my writing more seriously in order to be a voice for nature. I enrolled part-time on an MA in Place and Environment Writing at Royal Holloway, University of London. However, halfway through, I split from my husband. This separation, when I was 41, marked the end of my hopes of having children. I lost inspiration for writing, became concerned about practicalities like paying the mortgage on my own and felt I had to go back to full-time work. So I dropped out of the course at the end of the first year. At that time, the end of my hopes of becoming a parent coincided with a temporary end to my dreams of being a writer.

However, in 2018, the idea for my book came to me. I had the freedom to leave my job and travel for nine months to research the book – something I wouldn’t have been able to do in the same way if I had had a child.
 

3. How do you explore ideas or find inspiration for your work?
My inspiration is very much rooted in the natural world. Spending time outside, paying attention to trees, flowers, and other living beings is where the majority of my ideas come from.

4. What does the process of writing involve for you?
For me, it starts with attention and observation. Often I take notes while I’m outside – stopping to write in a notebook, or sometimes on my phone – about what I’m seeing, sensing and feeling. Walking helps me turn ideas over in my mind and develop them. Back at my desk, I begin to shape the words into poetry or prose.

5. And what does writing then also give you in return?
Joan Didion wrote, “I write entirely to find out what I'm thinking, what I'm looking at, what I see and what it means. What I want and what I fear.” I relate to that. Writing helps me process and clarify my experiences, and uncover connections and ideas I wasn't aware of before I began. Sharing my work also gives me a way to connect with people.

6. Has seeing your work in print changed how you view yourself, and also how you view your NoMo status?
Good question! I had wanted to be a writer for so long and worked so hard to get the book published that I thought it would be a moment of transformation. But that moment didn’t happen. I remember hearing Emma Gannon (who is also not a parent) talk about this – that you expect publishing a book will change things, but it doesn’t. I didn’t believe her at first, as I wanted the book to be a silver bullet for happiness. But she was right – it doesn’t change everything.
 

In terms of my NoMo status, publishing the book made it public. It wasn’t something I’d really shared before, not on social media or even much with friends.

7. Tell us about the wider reception you’ve had to sharing your story – has it changed how others view you and your identity as a non-parent?
Several people I know who read the book told me they hadn’t known about the childless aspect of my story – though of course they knew I didn’t have children. I felt some discomfort from people about this. It made me wonder: if I had been a mother writing about my experience, would they have felt the same discomfort? Some people said I was brave to include this part of my story. Perhaps that’s a sign that society is still uncomfortable talking about childlessness – despite more media coverage in recent years.

8. How do you feel about the current representation of childless and/or childfree people in literature?
Overall, I feel there’s still a lack of representation. In nature writing, there’s currently a trend of books about motherhood and nature. And of course, there’s the idea of Mother Earth and the Earth Mother. I once applied for a nature writing prize for under-represented writers and included being childless as a form of under-representation. I wasn’t longlisted, but several books about motherhood were.

In the sustainability world, parents often say that having children made them realise the need to act on climate change, as they think about their children’s futures. But I am just as committed as any parent. That’s one reason I wanted to include the theme of childlessness in my book – to raise awareness that it’s not just parents who care deeply about the state of the world.

Over the last seven years, I’ve been so immersed in researching and writing my book that I haven’t read widely among other childless or childfree authors. I’m looking forward to exploring more of their work.
 

9. What would you like the publishing world to know about non-parents – both as writers and readers – and our stories?
Publishing, like any business, is driven by sales. But I wish the industry would recognise the market opportunity in publishing books by and about non-parents. With a growing percentage of people not having children, I’d love to one day see a “Non-Parent” section in bookshops, just as we have Parenting sections. Why not make it easier for this demographic to find stories that reflect their lives? It seems like a missed opportunity for both publishers and booksellers.

I’m grateful for people and platforms championing childless writers – like the NoMo Book Club and Jody Day – who are helping to connect childless readers and writers.

10. What future plans do you have, especially for your writing?
I don’t currently have any concrete plans for my writing. Publishing the book was a seven-year marathon and the work continues with its marketing. Publishing something so personal also takes an emotional toll – more than I expected. So for now, I’m taking it easy, spending more time in nature and developing my work as a nature connection guide. I’m curious to see what emerges.

I’ve been fascinated by Japan for many years – ever since I was six and named it as one of five places I wanted to visit. I’ve never been, so I’m putting that intention outthere. Writing a book about travels in Japan sounds appealing. I’ve even started learning Japanese on Duolingo!

Since last year, I’ve been studying haiku as a way to connect with nature, and I wrote a haiku a day from January to May this year. After working on a long-form book of 80,000+ words, there’s something deeply appealing about a form that’s only 17 syllables.

I also have a Substack, which is a space for me to keep developing ideas, connecting with readers, and seeing what unfolds.