Heather Rae Scott

 

 

My daughter had a fund-raiser for chorus, so I ordered colored sugar cookie dough for them to experiment and play with. We had a blast. Of course my oldest wasn’t here to appreciate the effort but he did them their cookies tasted good. When they were done with the gingerbread men, we had to laugh, because my youngest said, “Mommy, these look like my g’ma and pap, can we call them?” My grandparents are in Alabama visiting my Uncle. So, I called my Uncle and told him I was sending him pictures, to show g’ma and pap and explain WHY they were looking at cookies.

My daughter made g’ma & my youngest made my pap. My mom wanted to know why they were green. It was a really neat pack of four with red, blue, yellow and green premade cookie dough.

When they were done, they designed these:

I know I haven’t talked much about writing or anything. It’s been insane. I’m exhausted and you’re lucky you’re getting coherent sentences. What is your favorite kind of cookie?

 

Today is a couple of anniversaries. Samhain Publishing Ltd is ONE YEAR OLD! :fest: :fest: All day long, they’ll be having a party over at the Samhain Cafe. It is a yahoo group, but I know a lot of them are giving away prizes. So, stop on over and join in on the celebration. :cheer:

The other anniversary is personal. It’s been five years today since I joined the eHarlequin.com community message board team. A lot has changed in the last five years. Hosts have come and gone, bosses have changed roles, the boards have been reformed a couple of times as have lines. It’s been a challenging five years. So for those of you who may have found me by coincidence, I am the persona behind Rae-eHQN host. Although, I feel as if I’m one in the same–what you see is what you get.

I’ve been told if you sell ONE book at a signing, that is was a good one. This one wasn’t as great as the first one, however, I did sell to strangers. Which is a good thing. At least I think so. I had to talk myself and the book up and that was hard. I’d rather have it sell itself, ya know? heh. My daughter took these pictures. No, it isn’t your imagination about the picture being kinda crooked.

As you can see I was right out in front of the store. I felt like a fish in an aquarium. lmao

I had a black blazer on with this and it felt like the store had a heater right on me. I’m flushed and hoping my deodorant is holding up–compounded by the red glare of the table cloth–maybe that’s why people were afraid to approach me–LOL

How was your weekend?

Tomorrow, I’m doing another two hour book signing of THE LAST THING I EXPECTED. I’m nervous and anxious about it–even though this is my ‘sophmore’ signing. I’m also going to make sure that my guy does not have his hand over the lens like he did so that we can have a decent picture of me sitting/standing there at my tiny table. The first signing he put his hand up so what would’ve been a good picture turned into a very dark shadow of me and a blurry picture of his hand. I love him despite it.

Here are the details:
When: Saturday, October 7th
Time: 1-3 pm
Where:Greensburg – Westmoreland Mall ^*
Borders Express
250 Westmoreland Mall
Greensburg, PA 15601
Phone:724.837.8279

I know this is  far away for most of you. But someone from this area may be out there lurking. Oh, and if the detour isn’t fixed, what fun this will be.

Is it any wonder why I write comedies? If this current story had room for an elderly couple much like my grandparents, man would there be some laughs.

My grandma called me this morning to tell me what she heard at the complex they live in. Now, she hates gossip, but is the Queen of it. She is going to a PCP ( primary care physician ) and she doesn’t like him because she can’t understand him. He’s from Venezula or something and she’s from Scotland, so the feeling is probably mutual. She always has a complaint for this doctor. Always. Her newest gripe, someone told her that this Dr. rubbed his penis up against their relative’s– twice removed–arm. She wasn’t happy when I said, “well, maybe he felt they needed some action.” I asked if they turned him in and she said no. So, I’ve been telling her that there is another doctor who specializes in Senior Citizens and the Dr is a female. I gave her the number this morning. Now, around here, you have to dial the area code first. No matter if I’m calling my neighbor. She’s arguing with me about the prefix. She’s telling me it’s 555 (using this generally ) and I say no. It’s 556. So, after three minutes of this, I tell her take it exactly as I’m telling you. 123-556-0700. I tell her this number three times and she repeats it each time, but still manages to foul it up. The fourth time, she finally gets it. She hangs up and life is good.

Fast forward to an hour later. She calls to tell me that the Dr. isn’t in their provider book. Well, she is, but she is listed as an orthopedic dr. She puts my pap on the phone. He says, spell the name. Meals. He said, “Yeah, Merls”.
“No. Meals. As in you eat three meals a day.”
“That’s what I said, Mears.”
“Noooo. M-e-a-l-s.”
“Mears, I don’t see any Mears.”
At this point, I light a cigarette and take a deep nicotine breath. Oh yes, it is going to be so easy to quit this, I think. “Pap, listen to me. Going to spell this one more time.”
“Okay.”
“M. E. A. L as in LION. S.”
“Ohhhhh! Meals as in food.”
I pump my fist into the air. “YES!”
“I didn’t see that name in my book.”
“Do this. Call the number I gave to grandma.”
“Okay. Love you.”

My mom calls and I’m telling her and she’s laughing as I swear in frustration. My call waiting beeps. It’s my grandma. I swear, tell my mom to hold on and I switch over.
“Yeah?”
“You gave me the wrong number.”
“I don’t think so.”
“I’m putting your “dad” on the phone.”
“Okay.”
“Hi pap, what number do you have?”
“You tell me the number.”
“123-556-0700.”
“Sunuvabeetch! She has it as 6700! Dammit, she fecks me up all the time! Let me try this again.” Click.

Yes, he dropped the actual F-bomb. They haven’t called back yet. They either got through or they killed each other. The coroner hasn’t called either.

So, how is YOUR day?

On Saturday, I got one of the best calls ever. My best friend Stace called to tell me that she was leaving one of the local malls and she told me to sit down. Now, in all fairness, her uncle wasn’t doing too well and she sounded a little off, so I thought uh oh. That news came later, but he’s doing much better now, thank the good Lord. Anyway, she ventured into Borders and browsed around wanting to see THE LAST THING I EXPECTED on the shelves so she could snap a picture and have some bragging rights. When she couldn’t find it, she walked up to the counter and asked for help. A very nice lady said sure, give me the author’s name and had her hands poised on the keyboard ready to look it up. 

“Heather Rae Scott.”

The very nice lady didn’t type anything, instead she looked up at Stace and said, “Wow.”

“Excuse me?” Stace asked.

“You’re the like the tenth or more person who came in here today asking about her book. We had some copies and we sold out of them. Would you like to be put on our waiting list? Now, before you answer, it’s a long list and you aren’t obligated to purchase it here and we aren’t sure how many of them we can get in. It might be a long wait.”

“Oh. My. God. Are you serious?” Stace hollered. “That is so cool! Put me down for two!”

Now, Stace was one of my first readers and had to put up with reading countless false starts and all she wanted from me were two little words: THE END. She said I know you’re not famous yet, but Rae, how cool is it that they can’t keep your book on the shelf?

Extremely cool.

So, another tiny lesson folks, PR pays off. Especially in a Rural community who isn’t exactly tech savvy. It sucks sometimes to be put on the spot in an interview, but it does pay off.

And I’ll leave you with a not so great picture of me and da book, since Eileen asked so nicely.   

There are simple pleasures in life. I could rattle on with a lot of them. But I’m going to focus on a couple of things today. My friend Leslie is the bomb. Truly, she is. I love her to peices. Today, she made my year. She was just as excited as I was about the prospect of holding my book in her hands. She ordered my book on Tuesday night. I knew she had and she said she was getting me a copy because she knew my author copies weren’t here yet. She called me today as I was napping and said that she was on her way home from school shopping, was going to stop by her house to see if there was a ‘package’. If there was, she was sending one of the boys up on her porch to retrieve it and her camera and she’d be right here. Those were the longest minutes of my life. Waiting and anticipating, but because I didn’t want to seem greedy, I didn’t pounce on her as soon as she pulled up in front of the house. I was good and calm. Instead, I grabbed her son, Ethan. One of the cutest little guys on this planet. He’s only a little over a year old, but man, he steals your heart in a snap.

I’d been waiting for this moment for an eternity. I was finally going to hold my very first book in my hands. As I tore open the box, Leslie and my daughter took picures. My hair was a mess. I was a mess and we got pictures of a house that needs a coat of paint in the worst way. Leslie, being the honest friend she is, said to me before she left. “I love you and all, and you can tell me to shut up. But let me give you some advice. Clean yourself up, do your hair, put on some make up and look professional if you post a picture of you on your blog.” I hugged her as she left and thanked her profusely for sharing my dream turn into a reality. Sometimes I hate it when she’s right though. LOL

Then, it was time to wait patiently again. My guy wasn’t here. I willed time to move just a little faster for him to get home. I showered, did my hair, got dressed and went out onto the front porch to wait for him to pull up. When he did, I walked to the edge of our sidewalk, book behind me and smiled. He got out and I started to wiggle and he didn’t even reach me until the tears started to fall and I began to cry as I held up my book for him to see.

My guy has the nicest shit-eatting grin. There’s no other way to put it. It’s sexy and it makes me melt and he knows it. He gave me that grin, hugged me, kissed me, twirled me into the air and we walked onto the porch. He sat down his stuff, picked up the book and I perched up onto my banister and watched him. He flipped open the pages and read the dedication. I’d read it to him before. He got teary-eyed. Now, let me explain that my guy is 100% all Alpha-male. I saw him cry when his grandparents died and when our son was born. Today, he reminded me why I’m with him. If you ever meet him or you’re reading this and you know him. Keep the whole tears thing a secret, we don’t want to tarnish his bad-ass image.

A little while later, I called my grandparents. I joke about them. They’re the couple who love to hate each other. They’ve been a huge part of my life and while sometimes that isn’t always a picnic, I wouldn’t be who I am without them. I’ll never forget the day when I asked them if I could use their last name as my psuedonym. Without hesitation, they said sure. I love my grandmother very much, but I have always and forever been a “Pappy’s Girl”. I adore my grandfather and I dread each birthday he has, dread each day that one more thing is wrong with him, because I honestly don’t know what I’m going to do when he leaves this world.