Lisa Manterfield

1. Please tell us a bit about yourself and your work.
I set out to be a novelist, and then life handed me a different story: infertility. I didn’t want to write about my experience at first, but every infertility memoir I read resulted in a miracle baby ending, which wasn’t going to be my story. Toni Morrison once said, “If there's a book that you
want to read, but it hasn't been written yet, then you must write it.” So, I did. That book, I’m Taking My Eggs and Going Home: How One Woman Dared to Say No to Motherhood, prompted me to launch Life Without Baby, a website for others who are childless-not-by-choice, like me. The success of that community led me to write a follow-up book, Life Without Baby; Surviving and Thriving When Motherhood Doesn’t Happen. That was the book I really needed when I was trying to reconcile a future without children.

I did return to fiction and now have five published novels (including two under a pen name). My latest book, All Our Lies Are True, is a twisty psychological suspense about a woman caught up in the disappearance of her twin sister.

2. Has writing always been a focus for you or was it a Plan B?
I came to writing seriously in my late 20s after a circuitous career path. I also expected to someday juggle writing and motherhood. So, not a Plan B in that sense. But I’m very cognisant of how much easier it is to carve out focused creative time without children to care for.

3. How do you explore ideas or find inspiration for your work?
Ideas come from all over the place, but not every idea is worthy of a book. I pay attention to those ideas that won’t leave me alone. I have a file where I gather notes and links to articles or possible research. Sometimes I have a character or a situation that’s intriguing, but has no story, so I let it percolate. Then, one day, two snippets of ideas come together, and I start to see a story emerge. I often use writing prompts to give characters a voice and let them tell me about themselves. This exploration is the most fun part of writing for me.

4. What does the process of writing involve for you?
I’m very protective of my writing time, often to the point of being inflexible. But I’ve learned that other people’s priorities can easily eat away at creative time. I meet online with a group of writers early in the morning, five or six days a week. We just log on and get to work, but that accountability is invaluable. I try to set an intention for the day, perhaps writing a certain number of words, working out a plot problem, or revising a certain section. As much as I value this structure, I’m also a big proponent of getting out of the office and working in cafes or in my hammock in the garden. I’ve recently joined a co-working space in my town, so I can mix up my environment when I feel stuck.

5. And what does writing then also give you in return?
Writing has helped me understand myself better. I don’t set out to write about myself, and yet I always end up in my books. I write a lot about grief, and that’s helped me understand my own losses and how I’ve dealt with them. Writing has also brought me an incredible community of generous and supportive people. That’s perhaps the most unexpected gift for a self-proclaimed introvert.

6. Has seeing your work in print changed how you view yourself, and also how you view your NoMo status?
It’s an incredible experience to hold a book you made in your hand. I’m quite a private person and often the quiet one in a group. Hearing from readers that something I wrote touched them or resonated deeply or helped them has been an enormous confidence boost. I’ve also discovered that many NoMos are drawn to writing. At a recent gathering of a dozen women over childbearing age, half of us were childless. I don’t find that ratio in other social circles, so writing has given me a sense of belonging.

7. Tell us about the wider reception that you’ve had to sharing your story - has it changed how others have viewed you and your identity as a non-parent?
Some of the most rewarding moments have come when people have approached me about my memoir and non-fiction work, and told me how it changed them, or how it helped their daughter or sister. I do think that writing and publishing my story changed how others view me. Infertility is often a silent and misunderstood journey, and my work has opened unexpected conversations and understanding that might never have happened.

8. How do you feel about the current representation of childless and/or childfree people in literature?
We have work to do. If infertility factors into a character’s life, it’s still often represented as a dark chapter that results in a happy ending. I also feel that childlessness must be explained in fiction. Childless characters can’t just be.

9. What would you like the publishing world to know about non-parents, both as writers and readers, and our stories?
Everyone wants to see themselves in the stories we read, and non-parents are no exception. And yet, as I run through my list of books I’ve read recently, so few feature people like me. It’s a missed opportunity for publishers.

10. What future plans do you have, especially for your writing?
I’m in what I hope will be final (at least for now) revisions on a new psychological suspense. My main character is childless-not-by-choice and although that’s not what the story is about directly, it’s an important factor. The book has been one of the hardest to write, perhaps because it is so personal, but it’s important for me to finish this story and see it out in the world, both for myself and for our NoMo community.