It’s different and awesome, told from a Boys POV- Dylan
which I find always refreshing after there are so many Girl POV.
And please stay tuned, I can offer you a giveaway! woot!
Seventeen-year-old Dylan Kennedy always knew something was different about him, but until his mother abandoned him in the middle of Oregon with grandparents he’s never met, he had no idea what.When Dylan sees a girl in white in the woods behind his grandparents’ farm, he knows he’s seen her before…in his dreams. He’s felt her fear. Heard her insistence that only he can save her world from an evil lord who uses magic and fear to feed his greed for power.
A day in the life of YA Author Shea Berkley
Hey, everyone. I want to thank the lovely Bookworms for inviting me to share my super exciting typical writing day. I hope you’re ready, cause your life won’t be the same after reading this.
First thought: Oh my gosh! Close the curtains! The blare! The blare!
The sun comes up way too early for me. Seriously, I love to sleep. It’s like my favorite activity besides eating, but laziness does not a bestselling author make, so I drag myself out of bed at 6:30 every morning, sludge down the stairs—this may seem like a weird verb, but it’s not, not if you know me… to sludge is to move in a manner that implies you are trudging through a mass oozy muck—and pop the tab on a regular (diet is from the devil) Coca Cola. Yes, every morning I imbibe in that insidiously unhealthy carbonated, caramelized alternative to water, and gulp it down. The whole 12 oz. can. If I’m feeling especially weak-eyed, I’ll pop another tab and down the sweet stuff until the professed “happy” mood infuses my body. At that point, I will gleefully skip over to the cabinet by the back door and pull out either a ho-ho, ding-dong or some other sugar laden food.
Bad author. Bad. (hangs head)
I am an adult who still eats inappropriately. It is a curse, and not to be emulated. Pity me if you must, but believe me, it is not a lifestyle to aspire towards. I’m a heart attack waiting to happen. End of PSA.
After my gluttonous dive into sugar, I may shower, I may not. Depends. Sometimes I work out in the morning. If this is one of those mornings, I jump into my workout duds and head to my kickboxing gym. I may eat like an idiot, but I don’t want to look like I eat like one. Over an hour later, I drag myself back into my house (a sugar high gives a nasty crash), shower and then strap myself to the chair in front of my computer.
Time to get to work
Think: Umm, what was I supposed to do today? Dang it, I need a secretary.
Writing for me is play time. I wouldn’t do it if it were too much of a burden. That isn’t to say it’s easy. Writing well is one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. Any monkey can put words to paper. I’m determined not to be a poop-slinging monkey. I’ll bleed all over my keyboard to make my stories entertaining. Others, who are smarter and more capable, can dole out wisdom and morality lessons. I know my place in the scheme of things. I’m an entertainer.
Think: I’m soo wasted. I need another cola.
I grab another cola and a handful of peanut M&Ms. I’ll then tap out a few emails, visit a few websites and blogs, call or text a friend or two for any number of reasons… sometimes research, sometimes to talk about writing, like figuring out a writing problem, or gasp… just to have human contact. Writing is a lonely business. My watercooler time is more fluid (tee-hee) than most peoples, but it is necessary.
Think: Do people really need more than peanut M&M’s to survive?
I imagine the horrified look on my mother’s face when I reach for the industrial sized peanut M&M bag and feel twenty layers of guilt. I back away and make a sandwich, but I still slurp down another cola. I’m a rebel, not an addict. (Seriously, I can quit any time. Really.) Then I head back to my computer.
I like adventure. I like a good fight. I love creatures that are scary. I like to write about heroes who face insurmountable odds. Sometimes they win, sometimes they don’t, but they’re always better people for having gone through the fire. I like feisty heroines who can give as good as they get and don’t need rescuing, but they’re happy to have a guy by their side, kicking up trouble and dishing out justice.
Think: I’m delusional. Everything I write sucks monkey poop. (hit head repeatedly on keyboard) What is my fixation with monkey poop lately?
To prevent permanent brain damage (though by this point in my life, it’s probably too late), I unbuckle myself from my chair and back away from the computer. It’s about now my fallen angels get home and demand sustenance. I slam back another cola and invent something edible out of random ingredients I fish out of the fridge. Fed, their halos shine a bit brighter, and we settle down to watch whatever movie or TV show we’ve played rock, paper, scissors to watch. I rarely win. Later, when most people are still watching TV I’m in bed. Like I said, I like to sleep. I’m fussy without a good 8 to 12.
Thus ends a typical day in the life of YA writer Shea Berkley. An atypical day would be me opening the door and finding Gerald Butler dressed in his Spartan uniform asking me if his cape makes his butt look too big. I’d tell him yes and make him take it off. Grinning like a fool, I’d then jack his cape, helmet and sword, put them on and run around screaming, “Sparta! Sparta!”
Hey, it could happen.
- Leave a comment – easy peasy..
- and answer my question: What makes you want to read a book? (For me, sometimes it’s simply the cover, sometimes when I read a fabulous guest post like this.)
- and… why not check Shea on her website and facebook and say Hi? And.. I even give you an extra entry 🙂
You really should check it out my friends!
and Happy Weekend!
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