I write about people who keep going.

I was born and raised in Gauting, near Munich, but I often felt like something of an outsider.

My parents mainly spoke English at home, and I attended international and European schools. That meant my German was never quite as strong as that of the people around me. I belonged there, but not always effortlessly. Looking back, I think that feeling—of being at home and slightly outside it at the same time—eventually found its way into the stories I write.

As a child, I played ice hockey and football, spent time with friends, and tried to read every book I could get my hands on. My favourite author was Dick King-Smith. By the age of six, I had begun insisting on reading his books myself instead of waiting for my parents to read them to me.

A couple of years later, one of my teachers noticed that I loved imagining worlds, characters and different possibilities. Rather than treating that imagination as a distraction, she encouraged it. She gave me the opportunity to write a children’s book about a little mouse who was also a knight.

I probably stole the idea from somewhere.

What mattered was that I had discovered how writing felt. Once I realised how much I loved it, I continued for years—not for publication or recognition, but for myself. I wrote stories, music, fragments of imagined worlds and whatever other ideas were rattling around in my head.

Those worlds gave me somewhere to feel grounded. They gave me somewhere I could not be hurt, but they also gave me a place to work things out. For me, imagination was never simply about escaping reality. It was a way of approaching reality from another direction. I could give a fear, insecurity or painful experience to a fictional character and look at it from the outside.

When I was older, I moved to Suffolk in England and attended Summerhill, a school that was both unusual and formative. Surrounded by countryside and farmland, seemingly in the middle of nowhere, there was space for the imagination to expand. My love of fiction deepened there.

Elendor grew from experiences accumulated across my life, from childhood into my twenties and beyond. I wanted to build a fantasy world that could hold complicated emotional states without making them feel clinical or distant—a world where trauma, insecurity, responsibility, healing and belonging could be explored through recognisably human emotions.

My stories are about ordinary people carrying responsibilities much larger than they expected. They are about facing inner demons, healing through imagination and finding people willing to offer love, loyalty and belonging—and learning how to offer those things in return.

Writing The Founder’s Sigil changed the direction of my life. It showed me not only how much I loved writing, but that it could become something around which I built my future.

I had returned to Germany and had friends, a good life and a job I genuinely loved. What I did not have was enough time to dedicate to writing. Eventually, I had to decide whether it would remain something I tried to fit around the edges of my life or become the life I actively chose.

I chose it.

I moved to Sardinia, where the light is warm, the weather is beautiful and I can find somewhere quiet to sit with a coffee and finish my books. It gave me the time and space to take Elendor seriously—and to take myself seriously as an author.

I am now writing the wider Elendor series with as much love and care as I can give it. The Founder’s Sigil was the first pillar. The Eight became a smaller companion journey through the same world. Beyond them is a much larger universe still rattling around inside my head, waiting to become books.

I want every story to receive the care it deserves. I also do not want the pursuit of an impossible perfection to keep completed stories away from the people who might connect with them. My intention is to keep learning, keep improving and keep releasing Elendor’s stories when they are ready.

Thank you for visiting this website and taking the time to learn who I am, both as an author and as a person. Every reader who arrives here and thinks, “This might be for me,” means more than I can properly express.

If my work has found you, you are warmly welcome here. Welcome to Sprinks Writes. Welcome to Elendor. I hope you will stay for the journey.