This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Becky will be awarding a $50 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.
Hey, thanks for having me on the blog and supporting my novel The Day Of The Wave!
Great question.. and in truth I don't really have a typical day. I work freelance, so I tend to take my laptop to all kinds of different places and set up camp for the day most days. Right now I'm in Vancouver. It's a stunning city and I'm discovering all kinds of different, scenic spots to work from. I love looking up and seeing the sparkling ocean and the mountains... not so much the rain!
Last year I worked from Bali, Indonesia. It was totally different again. I had a little house with a gorgeous garden full of tropical flowers and waddling chickens! I'd ride my scooter to a different cafe in the afternoons after a pilates session, to write with a different view, while I ate yummy salads and chatted to other creatives all working remotely. It's a popular place for expats and freelancers. The ducks in the rice paddies were my favourite view but there are loads of amazing places for a writer over there! I travelled a lot to Thailand, Vietnam and Singapore then, too.
Ideally I write between 4000-6000 of a novel a day, but if I have other social media work or articles to write I don't manage as many as that! I think I probably work too much, but I try to get outside for regular walks to keep the blood, energy and ideas flowing! I think it's important to stay on the move anyway, especially for a writer. We get our inspiration from so many different things. The worst thing ever is to find yourself stagnant, or restless.
Speaking of which, I must get up and make more coffee!
Based on real life events, The Day of the Wave is a story of healing, learning to let go, and figuring out when to hold on with everything you have left.
Enjoy an excerpt:
The karaoke guy catches me on the way to the bar, and again on my way back with the fresh bucket. 'I've seen you two trying to keep it on the down-low,' he says, beaming. He's huge, hot and sweaty and sounds like he's from Essex. His beer belly is bloating out under the ubiquitous Chang T-shirt. He's boozed up outside and in. 'I'm putting you down for Endless Love - the Mariah Carey version, yeah?'
'Um, no,' I say. 'Don't do that, buddy.'
'Ah, come on, we need a duet!'
I tell him no again, go put the bucket back down on the table. Izzy's smiling lopsidedly. 'Is he going to make us sing?'
'I hope not!'
She's buzzed already, I can see it in her eyes. She's luminous in pinks and greens and sparkles from the lights and the glitter ball. Three girls are dancing, holding a bucket each, wearing nothing but bikinis and sarongs. I'm guessing they've been in here since the rain started, straight off the beach.
'You know,' Izzy says, contemplatively, watching them twirling each other round in an epileptic's nightmare, 'if you're in London while I'm there I'm going to take you to this deli near my office. They have the best hot cross buns, you need to try them.'
'Hot cross buns?' I say, drawn to her mouth again.
'Usually they're an Easter thing in Britain,' she says, 'but this place has them all the time, we go there most days. It's near Covent Garden. You'd love it. You'd love London. I can't believe you haven't been.'
She talks and I lose myself in her voice, the way I did when I first met her. I don't know what the hell hot cross buns are, but she makes them sound like something I could feast on and live inside and be happy with for the rest of my life. I can see her coming back more every day; the confident her, the vibrant her, the adventurous her. I imagine walking round London with her, holding her hand, riding one of those big red buses and taking photos of Big Ben. I'd be little Ben next to Big Ben; that's what she'd say. I smile. I've zoned out. Damn, this rum is strong.
We're halfway through the second bucket when our names are called - or rather, 'Girl in green dress, guy in green shirt! Get up here!' We look at each other, only just realizing our colors match.
'I can't sing,' Izzy says now. Her tongue is pink from the juice.
'Can't because you're full of rum?' I laugh.
'Can't because I really can't!'
She tries to cover her face and bury her head in her arms but everyone's cheering for us now, stomping on the floor, clapping their hands. The three girls are wolf-whistling and one of them has taken off her sarong so she's literally standing on the dance floor in her bikini, doing some kind of weird hippy welcome dance as she beckons us forwards with her hands.
'OK, OK, come on,' I say, holding my hand out to Izzy. She groans dramatically as she lets me pull her up but we're both grinning like drunken idiots three seconds later when we get to the mics. The music's already started. It's a slow one but it doesn't stop the buzz in the room.
My love, there's only you in my life. The only thing that's right.
My first love, you're every breath that I take, you're every step I make.
The rum's rolling round in my brain but I can see it's getting to Izzy, more than me. She can protest all she wants but she's animated now, like she hasn't had this much fun in forever. Maybe she hasn't. She reaches for my hand. I twirl her around obligingly, like we're doing a slow dance. She gets caught for a second in the mic wire and I help her untangle herself as she cracks up, still singing, while the room whistles and whoops and dances.
'Another drink?' a guy from the bar asks us. Obviously he thinks we're too sober.
I pause. 'I don't think so...'
'Yes please, we'll have one more,' Izzy cuts in. 'And maybe one more after that.'
'Are you trying to get me drunk now?' I say.
'It was your idea!' She sticks out her pink tongue, spins again next to me in a kaleidoscope of color and in my mind I'm pulling her in and kissing her sugary lips. In my mind I'm carrying her right out of this bar and right back to that bed.
Two hearts. Two hearts that beat as one. Our lives have just begun...
My love, my love, my love, my endless love.
No. What good would ever come from me starting something? Nothing good at all. But Izzy is another tsunami. She's sweeping me up, faster and faster now and I'm not entirely sure how long I can fight.
About the Author: Becky Wicks is mostly powered by coffee. She had three travel memoirs published by HarperCollins before going the indie route. Her first book in the Starstruck Series, 'Before He Was Famous' recently reached #1 in Amazon's Coming of Age and New Adult & College categories. The second in the series, 'Before He Was Gone', and the third, 'Before He Was A Secret' are both out now along with 'The Day Of The Wave' - a romance based around the 2004 Boxing Day tsunami. Becky blogs most days at beckywicks.com and always welcomes distractions on Twitter @bex_wicks (especially if you have cat photos).
Buy the book at Amazon.
a Rafflecopter giveaway