Today’s Women in SF&F Month guest post is by E. J. Swift! Her short fiction includes the BSFA Award finalist “Saga’s Children,” first published in the anthology The Lowest Heaven and later in The Best British Fantasy 2014, and “The Complex,” first published in Interzone and later in The Best British Fantasy 2013. Her two latest novels are The Coral Bones, an Arthur C. Clarke Award and BSFA Award finalist, and When There Are Wolves Again, the 2025 BSFA Award winner for Best Novel. I’m delighted she’s here today to discuss the natural world and these two science fiction novels in “Reclaiming space in the great outdoors.”

About When There Are Wolves Again:

Decades from now, two women sit beside a campfire and reflect on their life stories.

Activist Lucy’s earliest memories are of living with her grandparents during the 2020 pandemic and discovering her grandmother’s love of birds. Filmmaker Hester was born on the day of the Chornobyl explosion and visits the site years later to film its feral dogs in the Exclusion Zone. Here she meets Lux, the wolf dog who will give her life meaning.

Over half a century, their journeys take them from London to the Highlands to Somerset, through protests, family rifts, and personal tragedy. Lucy joins the fight to restore Britain’s depleted natural habitats and revive the species who once shared the island, whilst Hester strives to give a voice to those who cannot speak for themselves.

Both dream of a time when there are wolves again.

Reclaiming space in the great outdoors

The natural world has been a topic close to my heart for as long as I can remember, but the way in which that passion has manifested has shifted over the years. From a young age, I loved David Attenborough documentaries and stories about wildlife. My copy of Colin Dann’s The Animals of Farthing Wood was falling apart from re-reading, and I’d happily spend hours perusing The Usborne Naturetrail Omnibus, some pages of which I can still visualise quite clearly. Whilst hugely formative, I can see now that much of this childhood experience—living in a suburban town, just outside of London—was filtered through media, rather than spending time in or adjacent to nature, in all its glorious messiness. The knowledge I gleaned came primarily from books.

Today, as someone who loves gardening, birding, and spending as much time as possible outdoors, I’m still not able to identify more than a handful of wildflowers or trees, but nature writing continues to be one of my great pleasures. And as an adult reader, it quickly became evident that this field has long been dominated by men–or to quote Kathleen Jamie’s famous essay: ‘What’s that coming over the hill? A white, middle-class Englishman! A Lone Enraptured Male! From Cambridge!’

The genre is getting more diverse, but there’s still a long way to go. In my reading both for pleasure and for research, I’ve sought out women’s voices in nature writing, and taken inspiration from writers such as Cal Flyn, Kyo Maclear, Kate Bradbury, Sophie Pavelle, Helen Macdonald, Nicola Chester, Jini Reddy, Melissa Harrison, and Sophie Yeo, to name a few. It’s made me think a lot about access, familiarity, and inherited knowledge of the natural world. From a romantic viewpoint, I adore the idea of striking out alone into the wilderness—overnighting in a secluded glen or sleeping by a waterfall, waking up to the dawn chorus. More practically, would I feel comfortable as a lone woman camping in the middle of nowhere? I’m not so sure. And of course, the issue of access and belonging extends to many other identities and communities who may not feel welcome–or who may actively be made to feel unwelcome—in ‘the great outdoors’, although initiatives like Adventure Queens and Flock Together are providing brilliant, inclusive spaces to break down these barriers.

Fiction, perhaps, can be another tool in reclaiming this space. In my most recent novels The Coral Bones and When There Are Wolves Again, I’ve explored the impacts of climate breakdown and the biodiversity crisis from two different perspectives—what happens if we don’t act fast enough to address these crises, and what might be gained if we do? In both books, placing women front and centre as naturalists, scientists, practising witches, or simply people who love and advocate for nature, was a critical part of the story.

The Coral Bones mirrors the journeys of three women, connected across the centuries by their deep love of the ocean. In nineteenth-century Sydney Town, teenager Judith must use guile and strategy to pursue her dream of becoming a naturalist in a male-dominated world, knowing she may never receive credit for her work. In the present day, marine biologist Hana has dedicated her life’s work to the fight to save endangered coral reefs. And by the twenty-second century, Restoration Committee agent Telma is tracking down sightings of non-human animals believed to be functionally extinct. Telma works alone, but whilst her assignments may present dangers, she is entirely comfortable within her external environment, and in travelling solo to remote and abandoned regions.

The speculative future of When There Are Wolves Again includes the introduction of a Right to Roam Act. Following the Act, my protagonist Lucy has her first experience of wild camping with her grandmother—albeit with some initial qualms about whether she, a city dweller, can truly belong in this previously inaccessible part of Dartmoor. Later in the novel, and a few decades on, she camps for several weeks alone, needing to retreat from the world for a time. There is no question in her mind as to whether this is an option for her; her sense of belonging has become an assumed norm.

Speculative fiction is a wonderful way to explore ‘what if’ scenarios. Often, these can be cautionary. But they can also offer us a way to imagine more positive futures, and perhaps to bring them closer to our grasp—futures such as a natural inheritance which has room for everyone to take up space.

Photography by Ella Kemp

E. J. Swift is the author of six novels including The Coral Bones, which was shortlisted for the BSFA Award for Best Novel, The Kitschies’ Red Tentacle and the Arthur C. Clarke Award. Her latest novel, When There Are Wolves Again, is a Guardian Best Science Fiction Book of 2025 and winner of the BSFA Award for Best Novel 2025.