The Story Behind the Story with Author Rebecca MacFarlane of New Brunswick, Canada

 

Let’s welcome Rebecca to the Scribbler.

We met at the Greater Moncton Riverview & Dieppe Book fair inApril. We had a lot of fun that day.

I extended an invitation to be my guest this week and Rebecca kindlyagreed so, read on my friends.

 

 

Rebecca MacFarlane is a lifelong reader and writer of dark tales.  Her first novella, originally published in2015, was later transformed into her first self-published novel.  She is currently working on more stories,including Winterhaven, the companion book to her well-received post-apocalypticnovel, Dying Season.  Rebecca currentlyresides in New Brunswick with her partner, her two children and two cats. 

 

 

Title: When It Rains AtNight

 

 

Synopsis: Aself-proclaimed lone wolf, Spencer is a drifter who lives life by his ownrules. When he crosses paths with a young girl walking alone on the highway,his gut tells him to keep walking. He nearly passes her by, but there’ssomething familiar about her that he just can’t ignore.
Paige claims to have lost her memory, and Spencer finds himself drawn into astranger's bizarre predicament. Against his better judgement, the pair set offon an unexpected journey to uncover Paige’s identity. When a jittery truckerand a roadside café prompt some terrifying memories, the truth of who Paigereally is unfolds into a mind-bending nightmare.

 

 

The Story behind the Story: I started writing When It Rains At Night over 15 years ago.  I had a vision in my mind of Spencer,hitchhiking on a dark road with no particular destination.   I knew a little of his character, that he’ssmart, fiercely independent, and has a very troubled past, and I knew what Iwanted the mood of the story to  be.  I knew that Spencer would meet Paige and havea very immediate sense of Deja Vu. Somehow they have met before, but I couldn’t figure out the how, or thewhy, to turn it into a really interesting story.  I did finish a first draft about seven oreight years ago with an entirely different ending, but I really wasn’t happywith it. Something was missing, so I set it aside again.  Finally last year I figured out what themissing pieces were.  Mostly, it was moreof Spencer.  His backstory hit me oneday. I had uncovered the real Spencer; he’s very much a lone wolf with a skewedmoral compass.  He’s temperamental anddangerous.  A great friend beta-read thestory and after the first couple chapters, messaged me and said, ‘I don’t knowwhat to think of Spencer. He seems like an opportunistic predator.  That’s when I knew I had it right. I alsodecided to be bold and incorporate a concept that I absolutely love – the ideaof multiple universes, and multiple timelines. I don’t know if I believe in those theories in real life, but one can’ttotally dismiss them, either I think. Either way, I really wanted to make a story out of that, and I knew WhenIt Rains At Night had the potential to bear it out.  In addition to being a bit of a wild ride, Ido hope that the story is thought-provoking and bittersweet, but that’s up tothe readers to decide.

 

 

Website: https://www.rebeccamacfarlane.net/

A question before you go, Rebecca:

Can you tell us about the perfect setting you have, ordesire, for your writing? Music or quiet? Coffee or tequila?  Neat or notes everywhere?

 

As long as I have music and a good cup of tea, I’m ready towrite.  Time is a hot commodity in ourhouse since the kids are always keeping us busy, and some people ask me ‘how doI find the time?’. While it’s true that I’m always (and I do mean always) busy,I don’t feel finding the time is really a struggle, because even when I’m notin that perfect place with my laptop and a hot mug of tea, I’m alwayswriting.  My brain is always working. Itake the characters with me in the car, to work, to the grocery store. Theylive with me 24/7.  As for notes, I veryrarely make notes. If I do, I usually forget or misplace them. To me, if theidea is good enough, it’ll stick in my brain until I get it down.

 

 

Rebecca is sharing an excerpt from her novel for yourenjoyment.

 

Spencer regretted taking all of this on. If not for Paige,he might be asleep behind the restaurant they’d just left behind, or perhapseven in one of the booths inside.  Instead he was stuck in the cab of atransport with this nervy girl stuck to his arm, sandwiched between her and thedriver, who reminded Spencer of a rat.  He looked like one, and he keptsniffing and twitching his long nose.

The walk had worn him out more thanhe had expected, and the coffee was not doing much to keep him alert, but hewas keenly aware that he needed to stay on guard. If anything, Paige’s fingers,stabbing into his forearm like blunt daggers made it impossible for him to slipinto complacency. 

He’d put his backpack down betweenhis feet and had one strap clenched in his fist.  The backpack containedeverything he owned; a few clothes, a considerable amount of cash folded intofour tight bundles tucked deep down in the inside zippered pocket, and the SigSauer he had recently bought off of a shady strip club bouncer back inEdenfield.

“What did you say your name was?”Jay asked, looking over again to Paige, ignoring Spencer, as most people werewont to do.  

For a moment, Spencer thought thatshe wasn’t going to remember her fake name.  She appeared to have becomeeven more anxious than before. 

“Anna?” she said atlast.  

“Right,” said the driver, like herfake name confused him somehow.  He thrummed his fingers on the wheel.“Anna.” 

Thankfully, the ride back to Paige’scar was short. Jay pulled over onto the shoulder of the highway, and Paigeshoved the door open before the truck had come to a fullstop.   

Her legs were not long enough toreach the step underneath the door. She sat there for a second, half in andhalf out of the cab, and cast a despairing look over her shoulder. Spencer sighed impatiently.  He had never met anyone so ill prepared inhis life.  She looked past him at Jay for just a half second, snapped herhead around, and tossed her handbag down to the ground.  Paige jumped andlanded awkwardly, the heel of her boot hitting the ground at an angle. Spencerwinced, but Paige didn’t make a sound, not even a whimper. If she had been wearinga ballet costume as opposed to her denim skirt and half of a shirt, he wouldhave guessed that she’d planned on landing that way. 

He got out and helped Paige to herfeet. Her left knee was scraped and bleeding. She held out her hands and he sawthat her palms were chaffed. 

She gave him another woeful look,and it felt to him for a moment as if they were acting out a play that they hadnever rehearsed, and while Jay was the only one in the audience, it wasimportant that they pulled off a winning performance.  He wanted Jay toget moving.  The guy really gave him the creeps.  He didn’t want togive the impression that they needed any more help, and it was obvious thatPaige wanted the same.  Spencer gave Paige her purse. She took it and hetook her arm without thinking. She was about to pull away and then their eyesmet again.  She eased up a little and let him act like it was totallynormal for him to be touching her, like he had touched her a thousand timesbefore.

Spencer glanced up and found that hewas looking up into the cab at a rotting corpse. The driver‘s rat-like face wasdecaying, patches of skin were missing or hanging loose from his skull intatters. The unpleasant lemony bleach undertone of the cab had turnedrank.  Sweat and smoke and death wafted out into the night. The driver’scorpse had no eyes, just two empty sockets. A skeletal hand reached out, andthen whatever he had seen, or thought he had seen, was gone.  It was onlythe Rat Man’s face looking down at him again, his ugly mug still not all thatpleasant, but alive.

“Take care now.” he said, and hepulled the door closed.

The air brakes hissed.  Spencerand Paige stood close together, like two stage players waiting for the finalcurtain-fall, watching silently as the truck pulled away.

Spencer looked to Paige and foundshe looked a little bit ghoulish herself.  She was staring after the truckwith eyes that seemed to have grown too large for her face. She didn’t appearto be breathing.  Spencer waited for her to move or speak or give somesign of life.  Finally, when the truck had disappeared into the darkness,she fell back against the hood of her car and let out a low, raggedbreath. 

A part of him that didn’t want toknow what was wrong with her. He didn’t want to ask, didn’t want to care. Hisgood deed was done, but for reasons he couldn’t understand,, he found that hedid care.

Damn.

 

 

 

 

Thank you for being our guest, Rebecca. Wishing you continued successon your writing journey. Hope to see you at the Next Book Fair.

 

 

And a big thank you to all our readers and visitors.