Interview with writer Sarah Dickinson

Writer Sarah Dickinson chats with me today about her gritty adult fiction, Silver Spoons: One’s Journey Through Addiction.

Blurb:
A dark and harrowing journey with two young lovers through the perils of drug addiction, and rehab. An up-close look at all the aspects of the opioid crisis. Raw, gritty, and painfully honest about the crushing struggles of addiction and recovery.

The author writes a very raw descriptive intense story – I was able to feel what each person was going through. As an addict myself I not only saw myself in trying to manipulate and lie to others but saw the other side of the person trying to rescue me. — Amazon reviewer JCM

The novel comes from Sarah’s real-life experience and from people she talked with in support groups for family and friends of addicts. The story is unique because it does not end where many stories of this sort do, with the addict realizing they have a problem and agreeing to check into rehab. She continues in Silver Spoons to show the couple going through the ups and downs of recovery and treatment, because that’s a process in itself.

Sarah’s partner, who unfortunately passed away, was a combat veteran who became addicted after using drugs to control his pain from a battlefield injury.

Silver Spoons is a raw, powerful, emotional story. Told in a series of letters, this graphic journey through addiction and recovery will hold you captive. — Amazon reviewer Lillyana

What inspired you to write this book?
My own personal experiences from the perspective of being part of the inner circle of someone going through active addiction and recovery

Excerpt from Silver Spoons: One’s Journey Through Addiction:
Even though she had taken longer than an hour to get there a quick scan of the parking lot let her know she had still gotten there ahead of him It was still easy for her not to worry about him this time. Helping someone run an errand could cause of handful of reasons that would make him late.

Besides the sun reflecting off the water was such a warm and inviting sight that she was grateful to have the time to herself. All the time she had spent living in her own world, in her own head, caused her to immediately give herself over to her surroundings. She got out of the car and took a slow deep breathe of the warm fresh air. Not caring how silly she looked to anyone who happened by her did it again. She could smell the lilacs, daffodils, lilies, and fresh cut grass. The subtle smell of the fading lilacs would soon be replaced by the more pungent aroma of the still blooming roses.

Running her fingers through her hair she rotated her shoulders and neck in a quick invigorating stretch as she made her way over to the benches by the water. Picking out a picnic table close to the river’s edge she simply sat back and let the beaming sun that hit her face, shoulders and back warm her. The air coming off the water helped create a breeze. In a months’ time water from the ocean would be filing the river and she would think of the beach simply by smelling the subtle traces of the salt water in the air.

With her elbows resting on the table and her legs stretched out in front of her, she was in an almost meditated state when he showed up. With her back to him and her eyes closed she heard his raised voice inquire. “Is my baby hungry?”

She turned to look at him, and something about the way he was standing was off. Quickly she got up and covered the steps to close the gap between them. In seconds she was right in front of him as he opened the passenger side door of his car, where a bag sat on the seat. She presumed it held their lunch as she saw grease stains at the bottom and napkins protruding from the top.

As she studied his face, she could see his irritation in his expression. She felt a hurt spread through her. It was more than disappointment, it felt like heartbreak as she thought to herself how stupid she was. Who had she really expected to show up? And when would she ever get that a beautiful day and being there with her would never be enough for him like it was for her? It would never be that simple or that easy. It was something so small, but something he probably could never give her.

His face, his stance, everything about him let her know that he was high. From the way his eyes were just out of focus enough to get attention, down to the pigeon toed off set way he held his foot. Silently she looked him over, and as she did, she became imminently aware of the anger in his face. Sensing her own building rage mixing with his, every instinct told her to leave. As quickly as possible. The only thing keeping her rooted to the spot was the fear, that recognized before the rest of her caught up, that something was very, very wrong. He wasn’t on smack. No, it was definitely something else. Problem was she had no idea what it was he could have taken. Right now, she was looking at a stranger, and the malice in his eyes alone should have made her leave. Or at the very least, be more wary.

What exciting project are you working on next?
I’m currently working on a book about sexism and domestic/intimate partner abuse. The story is told through journal entries of different types of women working through different types of abuse

When did you first consider yourself a writer?
When my 7th grade English teacher returned my poetry assignment (about war) with the suggestion I write about a butterfly, rainbow, or something better. I resubmitted the poem and took the F.

Do you write full-time? If so, what’s your work day like? If not, what do you do other than write and how do you find time to write?
I have written as a ghost writer in between semesters, as I went back to school to pursue my master’s in social work.

What would you say is your interesting writing quirk?
My grammar is atrocious.

As a child, what did you want to be when you grew up?
Dolly Parton circa The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas. Complete with my own musical numbers

Anything additional you want to share with the readers?
If you follow me on Instagram I always interact

Links:
Instagram | Barnes and Noble | Amazon | Goodreads | Facebook