This is my fifth interview with a co-author of the new Sci-fi and Fantasy anthology, Reality Glitch: 11 Sci-fi & Fantasy Stories by Authors From Around the World. Today I am excited to have with us multi-talented writer, Jo Sparkes.

Hi Jo!

Hi Gerard.

I’m excited you’re here, and I’m eager to have my readers get to know you and the variety of your work.

I'm going to begin by giving everyone the scope and range of your talent.

Jo's work includes scripts for Children's live-action and animated television programs, a direct to video Children’s DVD, commercial work for corporate clients, and a feature writer on, where one of her subjects landed the website’s ‘Man of the Year’ award.  As a contributing writer for the Arizona Sports Fans Network, where she was called their most popular writer, she garnered popularity with her humorous articles, player interviews and game coverage. Jo was unofficially the first to interview Emmitt Smith when he arrived in Arizona to play for the Cardinals.
Jo has served as an adjunct teacher at the Film School at Scottsdale Community College, and even made a video of her most beloved lecture. Her book for writers and artists, "Feedback: How to Give It, How to Get It," was born to help her students - and indeed, all artists.
Her original script, Frank Retrieval, won the 2012 Kay Snow award for best screenplay. Her fantasy series, The Legend of the Gamesmen, has garnered two B.R.A.G. Medallions and a 2015 silver IPPY award for Ebook Juvenile/YA Fiction.
When not diligently perfecting her craft, Jo can be found exploring her new home in Portland, Oregon, with her husband, Ian, and their dog, Oscar.

What else are you working on, Jo?
 "The Wake of the Sadico," a supernatural thriller, is in the hands of beta readers at the moment. This is a story that has haunted me for years, insisting on attention. I hope to release it in August.

What's it about?

On a Caribbean dive vacation, five people discover the old familiar reef is really a shipwreck, possibly old and valuable. The chase for treasure begins - and so does the bickering. And then the accidents. For Wall Edwards, the physics don't add up. Wood does not last long in tropical waters, yet each discovery promises another century. Something's wrong - but the others don't see it. Caught in a trap set five hundred years ago, they face an unfinished battle that destroyed all hands. The rebellion against a sadistic captain and those he tortured. Between those souls moved on to new lives ... and the one soul left behind.

Here's a sample:


By Jo Sparkes

They'd fooled her.
Melanie fumed as she rubbed suntan lotion on her skin. Caribbean vacation, they'd said. She'd imagined sipping frozen margaritas in odd shaped glasses on beaches covered with muscled men tossing volley balls. Luxurious hotels, blackjack in casinos, dancing at night.
Well nothing like that had turned up.
Her towel lay on the bow of the sailboat, which was anchored near a small, empty isle. No casino, no bar. The boat itself was supposed to be huge at a length of thirty-six feet. Well thirty-six feet turned out to be quite small, especially when the damn thing was old and shabby. There was no bathtub, no hot water at all unless you boiled it on the stove. Ice was rare as they had to cart it with them, and even the large bags in the cooler lasted only a few days.
And it was hot. Near the equator kind of heat.
Melanie had given up a lot to come on this trip. Derrick had asked her out, and that tall guy in his first year of residency at a hospital. Instead she was here, suckered by an English accent.
Gazing across the teak deck, Jill's discarded t-shirt with the words "Best Diver in Class' caught her eye. It may have been coincidence that it lay beside her own discarded pink dive mask, but the symbolism was there. Capping the lotion, she impulsively hurled the plastic bottle at the mask. Her aim was better than she thought - mask and shirt tumbled off the side, splashing into the water.
She scooted over, peering past the tiny railing to see the goggles and cloth bobbing in the sea. Out of reach.
Glancing around, she saw no net or pole she could use to snag the items. There was nothing.
There was no one.
Well, if she lost her mask, they couldn't make her dive again. And as for Jill losing her prize T-shirt, boohoo.
She slipped back silently to her towel.
It was taking them a long time. Maybe they'd already drowned. It'd be their own fault – except that Melanie would be alone with no idea how to sail a boat.
She hated them. She wished something bad would happen to every one of them.
A tiny spike of doubt fluttered her stomach. It was bad luck to wish like that.
"I don't care," she said told the air around her. "They all deserve it!" The words echoed in her mind, making the hair on the back of her neck bristle. Ought to take that back, something whispered.
Melanie stretched out on her stomach, resting her head on her arms. She was tired of holding her tongue, of being a good sport. Of sleeping in a hot room with barely enough space for the bed and sharing a closet bathroom with four other people. "They do deserve it," she grumbled, and deliberately shut her eyes.
A breeze stirred, rustling her discarded magazine. The boat creaked, the deck rolled. Above her the tall mast slowly traced a circle in the blue sky.
The dive mask and t-shirt slowly revolved around each other on the water.
As the sound of the breeze faded, a new sound teased her. Sort of like – marching feet. Lots of them, distant and approaching.
Drifting on the edge of sleep, Melanie shook the sound away.
The breeze rose again, and in its wake tramped the men, louder, firmer. Her forehead wrinkled in denial, but still they came.
Her eyelid slit open, just enough to see sun glistening on the teak. Peering between her lashes, the marching shadows appeared. Rows of men clad in gleaming metal.
One man strode through the sunlight and shadow, marching from hazy dreams to the wood deck. His boots planted before her. Hazily Melanie peered up to see a dark face, black beard, an evil smirk. And pale blue eyes, glittering with in delighted fury.
His hand reached out.
"Come, Isabelle."
Fear shot through her bowels; she threw herself backwards.
Gasping, Melanie blinked. She was alone on the deck.
Slowly, very slowly, she recovered her breath. Gradually she laid back on the towel, feeling foolish. At least no one had witnessed her panic. But she didn't close her eyes again.
Melanie never saw the mask in the ocean, spinning at cyclone speed.

Thank you for that. How exciting! Is there anything you want to make sure our readers know?    

Some stories you write. You dream, work, create, alter, smooth, add, delete. It takes shape, almost reluctantly.

Others seem to already be, just waiting for you to turn the slightest bit in their direction. And then they pour through you, so easily that you’re never quite sure you deserve the credit.

Wake of the Sadico is the only story that has been both for me. It’s always existed, but getting it on paper has been a huge challenge. It’s been a book, then a screenplay, and now a (completely new) book. It took a while for me to feel happy with it. I’m not there yet – but I am closer now than ever.
What other novels have you written?

I’ve written two books in a three book fantasy series. It started as defiance – I was doing a lot of writing for other people, which meant other people are in charge. And that’s fine – they’re paying you, after all.

But it was so much fun to write something for myself. The way I thought it ought to be. Good editors make it better, of course, but they don’t change it for the sake of being changed.

The first reviewers proclaimed it good, and ‘YA’. I don’t know which surprised me more.

Are there any occupational hazards to being a novelist?

Oh yes.

In a ‘normal’ job you have the water cooler, or break room, or simply lunch. There’s socializing, blowing off steam, discussing the football game from last night. There’s real people. I miss that.

The oddest side effects come from being inside my own head all the time. When I emerge out to the real world again, I find bits of it need editing. If only I could find the celestial keyboard.

What motivates or inspires you (not necessarily as regards your writing)?

People. I love people – the challenges they face, the way they overcome adversity. The choices they make, and the background that leads them to make those choices. And the oh-so-inspiring times they rise above everything.

My first writing teacher said that no one cares about a bridge blowing up or a dam crumbling at its foundations. The true story is always in the people that experience it.

How do you pick yourself up in the face of adversity?

If you stare at the adversity itself – and nothing else – it looks bigger than it is. It becomes personal, horrible, cruel. Scary.

But put it in context – everyone has adversity, what do others do, what other problems are in the world right now – and for me, it tends to shrink a little. It’s never a question of what things happen to you – the question is what are you going to do about it?

And think carefully. These things define your life.

Do you have any pet projects?

I’m working on – believe it or not – a sort of documentary series with my friend Chris LaPrath. It’s called The Expansion Project, looking at what’s labeled the psychic realm. As you can guess, we’re very interested in the people.

Lightning Round

Please answer these questions quickly, in a few words.

1)    My best friend would tell you I’m a …

A huge football (NFL) fan. Ridiculously so.

2)    The one thing I cannot do without is:

2 cups of coffee first thing in the morning.

3)    The one thing I would change about my life:

I wish I’d had more patience in the past. Or even now, come to think of it.

4)    My biggest peeve is:

I’m not quite sure when politics became another sporting event, but I wish we’d get back to issues and stop acting like a political party is our home team. 

5) The person/thing I’m most satisfied with is:

Students that I have taught over the years. Some of them learned the lessons I just can’t get myself.

Great interview! Many thanks, Jo.

Thank you, Gerard.

Here are links to find more info about Jo Sparkes:




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