chat a bit about her new sci-fi suspense, Playing in the Rain.
Jackson was born in Montreal, Quebec but has lived in Ontario for close to 34
years. The last 31 in a rural setting in Eastern Ontario with her husband and
3-year Graphic Design program, being creative has always been Sandra’s passion.
Over the years she has enjoyed creating works of art for her family and
friends. Her children, however, brought out the storyteller inside when Sandra
told them bedtime stories. Her wild imagination lent itself to new and exciting
grew and the storytelling faded, Sandra’s desire to write blossomed. Fed by her
personal experiences, she began writing. As she wrote, her confidence grew and
so did her courage. Sandra began sharing her ideas, even volunteering to write
articles for her son’s hockey team for publication in the local paper.
of many genres, Sandra’s writing does not fall into any specific category.
However, her goal is to create stories that pull readers into the book and make
them feel as though they are a part of the story.
stories in various stages of completion, Sandra made a decision. Armed with her
experience of travelling to the east coast, her wholehearted belief in
soulmates, and the draw she has always felt for the UK, she completed her first
Soul, was originally released in 2015 by her former publisher. A short
story, Not Worth Saving, was
published in New Zenith Magazine’s 2016 fall issue. Her second novel, Playing in the Rain – Book 1 of the Escape Series,
released in September 2017 also by the same former publisher. In October 2017, her
short-story, China Doll, took second
prize in a newspaper contest for Halloween stories. She holds a professional
membership with the Canadian Author Association and is a member of Writers’
currently working on editing Book 2 and 3 of the Escape Series, her first trilogy.
your current release.
a trilogy. It is the story of a young woman who begins to wake from a drug induced
hypnosis. She has no idea where she is or who she is. But as her memories
slowly start to return, she realizes that she needs to escape.
in the Rain won the 2018 Golden Quill Book Award for SciFi
drug fade, April slowly begins a conscious awakening. Memories of her past are
unclear and she has no recollection of her identity or her whereabouts.
As the days slip by, April realizes there is
more to life than existing when she is introduced to an occupant who does just
that—her sister. The more she learns about her environment the more she wants
Will April remember her past, her sister? Will
she have the courage to leave? And if she does, where will she go?
Experience through April’s eyes her struggle to
remember and her determination to escape in this sci-fi, post-apocalyptic,
I can pinpoint what inspired the book. It was an idea that came to me and I
started writing. However, the very first draft of Playing in the Rain was a stand alone novel with a much darker plot
line. I decided to change it and make it a post-apocalyptic sci-fi. To do this
I added about twelve chapters ahead of the original beginning. Then I revised
what I’d originally wrote to work with the new plot. My characters also aged a
few years in the revised version.
eyes sprung open to the darkened room. I stretched my arms above my head, but a
sharp pinch in my shoulder caused me to pull them back down to my side. My
hands absently plucked at the cushioned surface underneath me. I rolled the
small bits of soft material between my fingers and dropped them on the floor.
B2’s quiet and even breaths lulled me into a state of relaxation. My arms and
legs grew heavy and sunk further into the cushion beneath me. I was about to
cross into unconsciousness, but a low groan pulled me back. The sound of a rustling
sheet and smacking lips disturbed the quiet dark surrounding me. “B2!” I
whispered. “Are you awake?” I turned my head to the right and stared out to
where I imagined her lying beside me.
knew B2 couldn’t see my gesture. I turned my head away and stared up at the
dark above me.
I concentrated on the silence. Am I
B2 stammered with a somewhat cranky voice. I imagined her crossing her arms and
stomping her foot. The corners of my lips pulled into a smile, but it was
fleeting as my focus returned to the sound I was sure I’d heard. The crease in
my brow deepened.
closed my eyelids and inhaled, held it, and then allowed it to rush out through
my pursed lips. “It sounded…” I searched my memory and tried to recall the
sound I was sure my ears picked out in the dark, “like rain.” The blackness
closed in around us, and we waited in silence for a sound we hadn’t heard in… How long had it been? Months – years?
me. Even in the dark, I understood she’d rolled away.
first, it was a few light beats, a random collection of taps. Within seconds,
it settled into a rhythmic pattern. I was sure it was rain.
rain.” I smiled and sat up, my hands behind me for support. My delight did not
last long. Where the hell are we? My
eyebrows pulled together, and my smile turned into a frown.
her hand brushed the back of mine as she sat up beside me.
Visions from my strange dream of the dried grass came to mind. There was a
bizarre feeling, almost an understanding, that it had been a long time. If I
knew how long we’d been at C.E.C.I.L., then I’d have a bit of an idea, but my
memories were still foggy.
than to see the rain, to feel it wash over my head and down my face as it fell
from the sky. My mind tried again to sort through the stored memories I managed
to conjure. Unfortunately, they were not clear, and I could not gather any
visions of cool, soft, green grass. I reveled in the memory. Real grass under
my bare feet, my toes curled at the thought. Almost in the same instant, the
grass turned to brown, sharp blades. C.E.C.I.L.’s Astroturf flashed in my mind.
Grass – that was another thing I longed for, even the brown, crunchy kind.
I a finishing the final revisions/editing of Book 2 of the Escape Series and
then will send it to my publisher. Then I will begin editing Book 3.
first considered myself a writer when I finished my first manuscript. But I
think that consideration was more for me. I didn’t consider myself a true
writer until my first book was published.
your work day like? If not, what do you do other than write and how do you find
time to write?
to write full-time but unfortunately, I do not. I work full-time as a Finance
Assistant for a large security guard company. I find time for writing in the
evenings and on weekends and whenever I have time off. It’s kind of like having
two full-time jobs.
would have to say my interesting writing quirk is that my stories always begin
with the ending and the title of the book before I write the beginning. If I
know how it’s going to end then I can work out the details on how to get the
story to the ending.
you grew up?
be many things, a doctor, zoologist, artist, author, but I never imagined working
in finance. I sucked at math.
with the readers?
like to say thank you to my readers for your support. It is truly appreciated.