As Sanctuary prepares to make its Edinburgh Festival Fringe debut, writer Jacob Sparrow reflects on the unexpected journey that brought the play from a personal story to an award-winning production. Inspired by real events and rooted in questions of memory, community and belonging, Sparrow’s debut has already secured the inaugural Leodis Prize, marking them as an emerging voice to watch.
Jacob didn’t originally set out to be a playwright. “I work in theatre as a casting director and have done that for most of my career,” they explain, adding that writing had always been something done on the side. “I never really thought I was smart enough to write a play… I thought you had to be qualified in order to do it.” It was only when encouraged to try writing an idea of their own that something shifted. “I gave myself space to just sit down and see what happened, and I found myself really enjoying the process… maybe I don’t need a degree to do this, maybe I just need a notebook and Microsoft Word.”
Even now, Sparrow approaches writing with a sense of discovery rather than certainty. “Let’s be clear, I’m still figuring it out,” they say. “I thought less about structure and more about what I want to say. Once I keyed into that voice and dialogue, it made it much easier to build from there.”
Winning the Leodis Prize was both surreal and affirming. “It was mad, kind of crackers, and very unexpected,” Jacob reflects. “I was really touched that the story resonated with so many people it’s given me more confidence to go, ‘oh no, this is something I could be good at and continue to explore.’”
Sanctuary itself is inspired by a story from Sparrow’s childhood village in rural Suffolk. “In the early 90s, a woman tried to convert part of her house into a hospice for people with HIV and AIDS,” they explain. “But it was boycotted by the village.” From that real-life event, Sparrow has created a fictional narrative centred on an outsider arriving in the community. “It’s about his relationship with the village but also a play about loneliness, and thinking about our own mortality, and what isolation does to you.”
For Sparrow, the story offered a chance to reframe assumptions about rural communities. “As a queer person growing up there, I had branded that space as not safe,” they admit. “I found it fascinating that at a time when there was so much fear, this woman was doing something so kind, it was a perspective I hadn’t considered.”
Researching the play proved challenging in unexpected ways. “No one wrote anything down, there were no archives,” Jacob says. “And when you’re asking people to talk about something they might feel ashamed of, it’s very difficult.” This led to a shift in approach. “It allowed me to take more of a dramatic lens, creating a character from outside the village gave a clearer narrative arc.”
That creative freedom also shaped the emotional journey at the heart of the piece. “His expectation of the village and how that changes gives you a really key journey,” they note. “It becomes about how those perceptions evolve.”
Taking a debut play to the Fringe is not something Sparrow takes lightly. “It feels really exciting and very unknown,” they say. “As a casting director, you dip in and out of the process, but as a writer you’re involved in everything… I’m learning a lot.”
That learning extends to the practical realities of production. “We’ve got a brilliant director, Josh Seymour, and we’re casting at the moment,” Jacob explains. “I’m working on a rehearsal draft now, it’s good to have a deadline.” In fact, the pressure of publication has brought a sense of relief. “At that point I can release it and stop wondering if a word should go here or there.”
Despite the weighty themes, Sparrow is keen to stress that Sanctuary also finds humour. “It’s about hope and hopefully it’s really funny,” they say. “There’s a kind of gallows humour in it. One of the things people worried about at the time was whether cows could catch AIDS it comes from ignorance, but it’s also objectively quite funny.”
Ultimately, Sparrow hopes audiences will leave both moved and surprised. “It’s a story people might not have heard before,” they say. “A different lens on that period.”
And for those considering a ticket, the invitation is simple but heartfelt. “It’s a moment of kindness in a world that can feel very harsh,” Jacob concludes. “If you look for the people trying to help, they’ve always existed, and they will continue to exist.”
Listings and ticket information can be found here
