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Sian Prior

Sian is a writer, broadcaster and writing teacher, based in Australia. She is the author of two memoirs - Shy and Childless. She identifies as childless not by choice.

Questions

1. Please tell us a bit about yourself and your work.
I have been a writer for over three decades, firstly as a journalist and, more recently, an essayist and memoirist. I worked for ABC radio for a decade, producing and presenting programs for Radio National, ABC Melbourne and ABC Classic. Then I moved into freelance writing for newspapers and magazines, including many years as a regular columnist for The Age / Sydney Morning Herald. I’ve also been teaching creative writing for two decades now - in universities, for community groups and in online short courses (see sianprior.com). Almost a decade ago I completed a Doctorate in Creative Writing, for which I wrote my first book, Shy: A Memoir published in 2014. My second book, Childless: A Story of Freedom and Longing was published in 2022. It told the long, complicated and at times very painful history of my attempts to become a mother.


2. Has writing always been a focus for you or was it a Plan B? 
I’ve never been very good at making big plans. My professional life has felt more like a series of happy accidents. And my biggest and clearest life plan - to have a child - fell through. But I’ve probably always wanted to be a writer, as my youthful journals attest. After writing some short stories way back in my teens, I stopped doing creative writing for many years. I hadn’t made the connection until now, but yes - it wasn’t until after I had to give up trying to become a parent that I enrolled in a creative writing course and found my way back to that creative pursuit. I guess I must have been looking for other ways to fill my life with something I loved, something emotionally and intellectually engaging, something productive, something to be shared.

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3. How do you explore ideas or find inspiration for your work?
That’s a hard question to answer. My two memoirs were about things that troubled me deeply – first my social anxiety, and next my failed quest to have a child. I wanted to understand those things better, and writing has always been a great way for me to gain new understanding. I also hoped that my two stories – on both those topics – might be useful for others who were going through similar difficulties. They might also help those who haven’t experienced social anxiety or childlessness not by choice to understand what it’s like to be acutely shy or to be dealing with the grief of infertility. With my essays and short stories, inspiration often starts with a strong emotion – fear, or anger, or love, or confusion, or admiration, for example. And/or with a question, or a series of questions: How do I reconcile myself to referring to a friend who has died in the past tense, for example? How do I get through Christmas without falling apart, surrounded as I am by siblings who all have children? How will I feel if I re-read my youthful diaries – embarrassed, or proud, or both? My head is constantly filled with questions, my heart is filled with emotions, so I usually have more ideas than I have time to write them down.


4. What does the process of writing involve for you?
Thinking. It’s about thinking on the page, trying to articulate my thoughts and experiences as clearly and accessibly as possible, trying to immerse the reader in my inner world, or in my past experiences, so they almost feel like they ARE me. Sometimes I’m trying to persuade the reader of something, sometimes I’m trying to make them feel particular emotions, sometimes I’m trying to offer them a cathartic emotional release with my writing. Sometimes I’m just playing. Being playful gets harder when you’re an adult, because ‘adulting is hard’, as they say. But words can be toys. My favourite toys, actually. 


5. And what does writing then also give you in return?
Writing gives me insights, gives me catharsis, takes away my shame, makes me feel simultaneously more vulnerable and less vulnerable – if that makes sense? Makes me feel less ashamed of my vulnerabilities. Makes me feel connected to my imagined readers. Makes me laugh out loud, sometimes. Makes me cry, sometimes. Writing stretches my brain. Writing surprises me – "Where did THAT come from?" I sometimes wonder. Writing is my favourite form of therapy, followed closely by singing. 


6. Has seeing your work in print changed how you view yourself, and also how you view your NoMo status?
I feel proud of myself. Writing Childless was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. It was slow and painful, and much of it was being written at the same time as I was in Covid lockdown for months at a time, worrying about my darling mother who was isolated in an aged care residence, suffering horribly with dementia. It’s a book suffused with sadness. But it was incredibly helpful for me, a way of acknowledging my right to grieve about my childlessness. I finally gave myself permission to feel that sadness. It has lightened the load. And it has made me realise I’m more resilient than I thought.


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?

It’s hard to tell if it might have changed how others see me. There is still a lot of silence around this topic, so not many people have spoken directly to me about the subject of childlessness, though many have said they thought the book was ‘good’ or ‘well-written’. A few other childless women have contacted me directly and shared some of their stories, but many fewer than had contacted me to share stories about their shyness after my first book (Shy: A Memoir) came out in 2014. It’s hard for people to talk about. So much grief and pain in this area. I only became able and willing to talk more freely about it once I’d written Childless. But it’s still hard.


8. How do you feel about the current representation of childless and/or childfree people in literature?
There isn’t enough representation, and what there is, is often skewed towards negative portrayals. Think of all those fairy tales with childless women (often witches) who are somehow dangerous or mean or selfish. I’m trying to help redress the balance a bit.

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9. What would you like the publishing world to know about non-parents, both as writers and readers, and our stories?
That we are here, in large numbers; many people now consciously choose not to have children; of those of us who are childless not by choice, many have suffered, emotionally and/or physically – and financially. That we are mostly not like the common hurtful stereotypes of childless people (selfish, isolated, sad, envious, etc). That we have stories to tell, love to share, big lives to live.

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10. What future plans do you have, especially for your writing?
I’m not sure yet whether I’ll write another book. I will keep writing and publishing personal essays and columns, including on the topic of childlessness (check out my latest one in The Big Issue). I will keep teaching others how to write their own stories and share them with the world. I will keep finding ways to enjoy the strange freedom my unwelcome childlessness has afforded me.

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