There will be some people in your life who will judge you or question you or be completely confused by your sadness over the death of someone you never met.
That is their problem, not yours. So don’t feel like you need to apologize for being genuinely sad or happy for someone you don’t know. That actually makes you a really great human being.
And it means that Luke Perry was really great at his art. Because you connected with him through his roles. You rooted for him.
I hope someday when it’s my time, when I am dragged kicking and screaming and maybe a little drunk and full of tacos from this earth, that people I never met will feel sad. That I will have had a positive impact on them even without being at their dinner table or living in their neighborhood. I want that for all of us. I want our reach to extend beyond the circle of people we see every day. I want us all to matter well beyond our kids and cats and coworkers.
Your ability to care about others beyond your circle is one of your greatest talents. The fact that you can get up at 5 a.m. with me to watch a royal wedding, or cry over a fictional character who doesn’t exist anywhere but your head and the author’s heart, the fact that you can mourn the death of a child of a friend of a friend of a friend makes you beautifully, wonderfully human. Despite what Twitter and the news say, we are compassionate, loving, and beautiful.
Now, let me tell you why I am so sad over Luke Perry. His role as Dylan McKay on 90210 imprinted pretty fiercely on me. This was my first TV experience of watching a regular girl (Brenda) from a regular place (Minnesota) catch and keep the eye of the bad boy. The unattainable, devastatingly attractive, no-on-can-have him, can’t-stop-thinking-about-him guy. Not only did she catch his eye, she unlocked him to find a good (I’m totally ignoring the Kelly fiasco here), vulnerable man who loved her. Now, THAT is my kind of catnip when it comes to a love story. The regular girl unlocks the unattainable guy and they live happily ever after… again, minus Kelly.
Over the decades since that show, I’ve always thought of Luke Perry fondly because of the impact of his art.
So maybe it’s not Luke Perry for you.
Maybe it was Grace Kelly or Bernie Mac or George HW Bush or Mr. Rogers or the elderly lady who lived down the block that you always meant to visit but never got around to it…
My point is, there are people out there we don’t know that we can still be profoundly happy for and sad over. Those people won’t be the same for everyone, but as long as we’re not crapping all over someone else’s exaltation when a Kardashian has a baby or their devastation when their favorite poet passes away, it’s all good. It’s all beautiful. And it’s all worthy of feeling. Feel your feelings. Don’t apologize for them.
Oh, and you all better be clutching tissues someday when I head off to that great book signing in the sky.
Note: I originally posted this wall of text on Luke Perry in my reader group on Facebook.
https://www.lucyscore.net/wp-content/uploads/2016/05/Lucy-Score-Logo_100_height.png00Lucy Scorehttps://www.lucyscore.net/wp-content/uploads/2016/05/Lucy-Score-Logo_100_height.pngLucy Score2019-03-04 16:24:322019-03-04 16:25:28Let's talk about Luke Perry
On February 2, I attended my very first book signing. At Turn the Page Bookstore. WITH NORA ROBERTS. The following is my abbreviated (Yeah right, let’s be serious. I don’t abbreviate anything.) recollection of the happiest blur of a weekend ever.
Mr. Lucy and I arrived at our hotel Friday night. It just so happened that there were 25+ BRAs (Binge Readers Anonymous is my reader group on Facebook) also staying there. We ALL met spontaneously in the lobby in a screamy, squeally lovefest that the Hampton Inn of Hagerstown was incredibly tolerant of for several hours. Oh, and my admin and PA Joyce who was “so sad” that she “couldn’t be there” strolled through the dang front door of the hotel and surprised the everliving crap out of me! She’s a truly excellent liar. One of her many favorable qualities. There were hugs, gifts, and a lot of pictures! They presented me with a charm bracelet with charms representing EVERYTHING I’ve ever published. ????????????
It was an overwhelmingly amazing preview of the fun to come… So the morning of the signing dawned freakin’ freezing. It was 10 degrees, or scientifically known as really effing cold. Readers braved the inhuman temperatures to line up for their tickets. Meanwhile, back at the hotel I pulled out every trick in the book and every YouTube hair and makeup tutorial to look like a put-together adult human being.
On our way into Boonsboro, a reader sent up the alert that the bookstore had sold out of my books. Sold. Out. Before the signing even started. Mr. Lucy, knowing that I’m a total panic monster about going into new situations, had genius-ly suggested we drive down earlier that week to drop off the paperbacks and get the lay of the land. We took 90 paperbacks. And they were gone before the signing started. I was basically living the dream of some other super cool and famous author. (Actually, I thought maybe the bookstore had misplaced like two boxes.)
But not to worry! In a fit of optimism heretofore unbeknownst to Mr. Lucy, he brought an additional 40 or 50 books back to Boonsboro “just in case.” I thought he was nuts at the time. But once again, he was just proving his handsome genius.
So, Mr. Lucy and I pulled into the parking lot behind the bookstore. I’m sitting in the passenger seat trying to psych myself up and not be all nervous bladdery when the back door of the store opens…
Out strolls Nora Freaking Roberts in a full length fur coat with the skinniest cigarette in the universe.
I opened my mouth and made a deflating balloon noise that dragged on long enough that Mr. Lucy had to physically pull me out of the car. My first words to my hero, the reason I write romance, the literary dynasty we all know and love were as follows:
Me: Hi. Where do I go in? *spoken eight octaves above my normal voice*
Nora: Are you signing today?
Me: *nods dumbly*
Nora: Then you go in this door.
Me: Thank you. *whispered breathily, nine octaves higher*
I stumbled inside the store away from the fabulousness that is Nora Roberts and walked right into the bookstore manager. Janeen is a wonderful human being. She looked at my dazed face and said, “Hi. WHERE ARE YOUR BOOKS?”
Mr. Lucy shot pistol fingers at us. “Pew pew! I’ll be right back!” (That didn’t actually happen, but it’s funnier that way.) He hustled back out the door to grab the remaining books. While I sat on the floor to change out of my snow boots—did I mention it snowed the day before and made for pretty messy travel?—Janeen also politely asked me to choose a new favorite Nora book. Why? Because I’d blabbed my big fat mouth to everyone about how much I love The Obsession (seriously if you haven’t read it yet, GET IT) and readers had listened and purchased every copy they had in stock. Oops. At this point, I felt like a really small-time Oprah. It was glorious!
Anyway, I put my super cute boots on and introduced myself to the rest of the authors who were all really, really nice. And then it was time for the signing to start. The first 20 or so people who poured in bee-lined for Nora so I had a few minutes to drink some water and try to bring the register of my voice down to normal levels. The first person who had me sign a book was a white-haired gentleman who also writes romance! Next up was a husband-wife couple who were there picking up some books for their daughter, an avid romance reader. They had me sign one of the books “Your dad is awesome.” ????
Then #LucyCon happened. Ya see, BRAs don’t just show up to a signing. They all buy matching #LucyCon merchandise and show up at Nora Roberts’ bookstore and tell her they’re there to see me. Thankfully, Nora, her fabulous publicist, Laura, and the rest of the staff have really wonderful sense of humor and had no problem with the #LucyCon invasion.
I proceeded to have the best day ever. I hugged a ton of people. Took a lot of pictures. Signed a lot of books. Shot only slightly disturbing admiring glances in Nora’s direction. And enjoyed a pizza and champagne lunch with all of the authors. Nora even ate some of the chocolate chip cheesecake I brought (because I’m afraid no one will like me unless I bribe them with baked goods). One of the highlights of the day was when my sisters surprised me. I had no idea they were coming and they made it the whole way through the line to my table before I even spotted them!
After the signing, we took pictures with all the authors and then it was time to leave and act like a normal human being. It was difficult. Mr. Lucy and I got in the car and sat there for a full minute without saying a word. It had been so much fun and such a perfect day not just as a writer, but as a reader who has been devouring Nora books for a few decades now. It was so perfect it almost felt traumatic. The conversation went something like this.
Mr. Lucy: *staring through the windshield at nothing* Uhhhhhhhhhh…
Me: *whispers* We must never speak of this day.
I bet you’re thinking this would be a good place to wrap it up, right? I had the best first book signing in the history of authors signing books. And this blog post is already novel-length. But wait! There’s more!
We met all of the BRAs for dinner at a golf course/tavern place hosted by my stunningly lovely and fiercely organized admin Tammy. There were 45 of us. Drinking drinks. Eating incredible food (shoutout to Schroyer’s Tavern for not batting an eye at the size and volume of our group, your food and service were amazing). Hugging some more. They got me a Happy Birthday/Book Signing Taco Cake and sang to me.
It was. Amazing. And I am beyond grateful from the depths of my romance writery heart (so you know its deep, y’all) for everyone who turned up for that freezing cold weekend in February in Boonsboro, Maryland. Thank you to the bookstore staff for being so damn nice and so damn organized. Thank you to Nora and Laura for your graciousness and sense of humor. To my BRAs, thank you for picking each other up at the airport. For sharing hotel rooms. For carpooling. For being so incredibly generous. For choosing to read my books. For being people with obvious great taste and big hearts.
I love you all! Thank you for being the best part of my best day! ????
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Mr. Lucy and I are back and badder than ever after an adventure in the Grenadines. We hoped on this ship here and bounced around the Caribbean island chain, soaking up the sun, rum, and camaraderie.
The SV Mandalay.
We were on board with 30+ other fine folks, sailing the high seas looking for adventure. Most of our vacations together could be labeled comatose what with our lounging, our snoozing, our sipping, and our staring off into space. So this one was a serious shift in gears for me. But it was so worth it. And it really made me appreciate how great out house and bed and bathroom that doesn’t have the shower head mounted directly over the toilet are.
But this trip wasn’t about luxury and relaxation. In fact, I got sick twice (BAD—I barfed coffee) and Mr. Lucy’s day-long hangover took us out of commission for a third. We got home late last night and I’m still rocking back and forth like I’m on the water! However, despite all that it was one amazing trip!
Ahoy the sunset.
I learned some important things:
My life needs more adventure that pushes me out of my comfort zone.
The people living adventurously laugh more and look 20 years younger than their comfortable counterparts.
Youth has nothing to do with how well you live your life. Most of the other passengers were close to if not over 70, strolling the rolling decks with a rum punch in each hand.
Everyone has a story. One of my favorites is the opening pick up line that launched a decades-old marriage. “Hi! I’m Urs. Want a fish?” That was followed by a Swiss man dumping a dead salmon into the unsuspecting arms of a woman who at the time was in love with a piano tuner. They were married four months later.
Some people have very violent reactions to motion sickness meds (me) and become convinced they are going to die (also me).
The view from Carriacou.
This trip was a lot of travel. Planes, ships, vans, and one long-ass car ride home at 2 a.m. Thankfully all of the planes had movies and TV. I watched:
Black Panther: one of the best movies I’ve ever, EVER seen in my life and I don’t even like super hero movies!!! It delivered on every level and from a storytelling perspective it was perfection! If you have the chance, watch it!
Bad Moms Christmas: a surprisingly heartfelt sequel.
Pitch Perfect 3: Nothing will beat PP1, but I still love those aca-bitches.
Under the Tuscan Sun: a rewatch for me.
A rerun of the Kardashians after my touchscreen stopped working.
You’re probably more interested in the books I read, aren’t you? :) I approve these priorities. I also approve the following books!
The Brightest Star by B. Cranford (I started this one on the plane home and haven’t finished it yet, but it’s a second chance story and you know I love those!)
I also learned that our asshole cat Cleo is ONLY AN ASSHOLE TO US! All week I was bombarded with texts from our cat-sitting friends sharing videos and pictures of cute Cleo snuggling and playing pleasantly with them. She didn’t stab a single one of them in the face! Not even once! WTF, Cleo?
Cleo pretending to be sweet.
Anyway, we had an amazing trip and are happy to be home! Blue Moon #6 is with the editors for its July release and tomorrow I’m starting a new project! I think you’re going to love it! xoxo
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Welcome back to Blue Moon, my friends! Holding on to Chaos, #5 in the Blue Moon series, hit Amazon and promptly sent readers into a world with a hot sheriff, nosy neighbors, a fibbing heroine, and an already crazy town being made crazier by an astrological apocalypse (I don’t know where I come up with these ideas either!).
Haven’t read it yet? Don’t worry, it’s a whole lot better than I just made it sound. This is the funniest book I’ve written to-date. Donovan Cardona has his hands full when he decides to fall in love. But how can he score that first date with Eva Merill, the secretive youngest sister of Gia and Emma, when the entire town is losing its damn mind?
I laughed out loud every day writing this story. All of your favorite Blue Moon characters are back in this latest standalone installment. And Ellery? Oh, dear, sweet Goth princess Ellery gets quite the storyline in this book. Clementine? Of course she’s present. Do you think she’s mellowed or is she still a savage attack goat after cookies?
If you haven’t picked up a copy of Holding on to Chaos, grab it now. You won’t regret it (said the author who’s totally biased). Free on Kindle Unlimited!
Here’s a little sneak peek at your Sheriff Sexy and sassy heroine…
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“Lucy Score is brilliant, and Blue Moon is spectacular!” — AndiQ
“I put this book down for two days near the end because I couldn’t bear for it to be over, I loved it so much.” — Joyce Hiebert
“I LOVE BLUE MOON!!! I want to live there!” — LeeLee83
“I absolutely love Lucy Score and her amazing storytelling…” — Nicole S.
Believe it or not, none of these were my mother! These were all real quotes from real people not related to me and therefore obligated to lie to me :) Social proof, yo!
If you haven’t picked up the Blue Moon series yet, let me tell you why I love it so much. Right now every time I get on Facebook or Twitter or turn on the TV it stresses me out. It’s like badness overload. And Blue Moon is one of those places I can escape where all the people are kind and hilarious and ridiculous and true love always wins… at the hands of the Beautification Committee. It’s small town romance at it’s best with quirky characters, really freaking funny situations, and the kind of love we all want to find in our lifetimes. Plus, there’s a goat that eats pants.
Check them out when you get the chance. All four of the Blue Moon books are on sale for 99¢ each right now (U.S. and U.K. only) for the next few days! Get ’em while they’re cheap!
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There’s a new release heading to Kindles everywhere. You can expect to download your copy of Not Part of the Plan onto your Kindle on April 11!
Let’s talk details… this is the fourth book in my Blue Moon series. Each book can be read as a standalone, so if you haven’t picked the first ones up yet, you can jump right in with Not Part of the Plan.
For the record, Blue Moon books are sexy AND hilarious. They’re set in the small, idyllic town of Blue Moon Bend in upstate New York. Taken over by wandering hippies after Woodstock, the town still clings to its sixties roots with a heavy dose of nosey small town mixed in. The men are sexy alphas and the women are complicated, confusing, and charming.
In this sweet and sexy story, Nikolai Vulkov is a famous, womanizing fashion photographer whose life has suddenly lost its appeal. He decides an extended vacation with his best friend Summer Pierce and her husband Carter will be just the cure. Spending a few weeks on a farm in the middle of nowhere with twin one-year-olds? If that doesn’t make his old life more appealing, nothing will.
And speaking of appealing, when Niko meets Emmaline, the fiesty, no-nonsense brewery manager, he senses a challenge.
Emma’s not into bad boys or flings and lets Niko know it. She likes an orderly life, a plan, a direction. But once in the friend zone, Niko works to wear her down. Emma starts to wonder just how bad could one night with him be? How good could one night be?
The rest of Blue Moon reassembles for this book, picking up their stories nearly a year after the last book ends. Catch up with your favorite Pierce brother and all of your eccentric Blue Mooners and their hippie ways. There’s a Knit Off, Clementine the goat strikes again, and everyone’s favorite dead head Fitz reveals a very interesting side career.
Here’s a handful of my favorite snippets from Not Part of the Plan…
“What’s a dildo, Mama?”
“Crap. Four seconds in my house and we’ve already ruined your very nice Tom Ford. Sorry about that. Fluids just fly constantly around here,” Summer apologized.
“I figured that’s how you got twins,” Niko joked.
Carter glared at him and stroked a hand through his own beard. “I thought you hated facial hair.”
“Where did you ever get that idea?” Beckett asked innocently.
Carter threw his cards down on the table. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because of every snide comment you’ve ever made about my beard in the past five years?”
“What are you talking about?” Beckett feigned confusion. “I’ve said nothing but nice things about your beard.”
“Bullshit!” Carter shouted, pointing at his brother. “Bull. Shit. ‘Don’t get beard hair in my food, Carter.’ ‘You look like a wookie, Carter,’” he mimicked in a falsetto voice. “Bull fucking shit.”
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