I’m new here. Yay! My name is Mackenzie Crowne. My friends call me Mac and I hope you will, too. I’m a desert rat, living in Arizona, a wife, mother, really young grandmother, ;-) and a breast cancer survivor. I’m completely humbled to be joining the Roses of Prose. I mean, not only is there some heavy duty talent here, but these ladies are sharp! I can’t believe they invited a weed like me to come frolic in their lovely garden.
Since this is my debut post, I thought a glimpse of who I am would be appropriate. That's the real me on the right, enjoying the outdoors at my mountain hideout. The following is a peek at a normal day around my house. Yeah. I’m an author, which means my life is soooooooo glamorous…
7:38 AM: Wake to discover I’d neglected to set my alarm. (I’m behind on a deadline and stayed up much later than usual because the words were flowing) Realize my granddaughter, who stayed the night, is already late for school.
7:39 AM: Race to grade school in a ponytail and pajama sweats – sans makeup – face the office staff, only to realize I’m wearing two different shoes.
7:50 AM: Enter my office to start my day. Pick up laptop. Curse as cord tangles with coffee cup.
8:00 AM: Finished cleaning the coffee stain from rug, open emails.
8:01 AM: Panic upon learning publicist has set up blog tour for upcoming release, and I have 5 blog posts due in 3 days.
8:02 AM: Ignore publicist’s email to commiserate with critique partner in meltdown over first edits from publisher.
8:02 AM: Simultaneously begin working on manuscript. (I’m seriously behind on this deadline)
8:30 AM: Pause in writing to deliver e-book flashgiveaway prizes to members of my street team. Spend several minutes on FB chatting with readers and retweeting author friends’ promotions.
9:10 AM: Visit author friend’s website. Steal information on her new release, and post a release day shoutout on my blog. Post several promotional tweets and share links with street team.
9:40 AM: Finally slip into writing vortex with manuscript.
11:00 AM: Dragged from writing vortex by husband asking if there is any food in the house.
11:20 AM: Return to manuscript after politely showing husband where kitchen is, then spending 20 minutes preparing food myself because I have an aversion to kitchen fires.
11:50 AM: Dragged from writing vortex by hacking sounds from puppy, who apparently charmed husband into sharing the food I’d prepared.
12:00 PM: Finished cleaning the dog puke from the office rug (not the same spot as the coffee) return to manuscript.
12:30 PM: Partially dragged from writing vortex by husband kissing me goodbye as he heads to work.
2:20 PM: Realize I’m still in pajamas. Take a speed shower (singe retina with shampoo). Speed to grade school with one eye shut to pick up granddaughter.
3:20 PM: Return to manuscript after settling granddaughter with snack, posting exclusive tease from manuscript to street team, and several minutes spent popping between FB and Twitter.
4:10 PM: Dragged from writing vortex by granddaughter sharing funny meme on her phone. Fight off panic attack after checking word count. (Did I mention I was behind on this deadline?)
4:25 PM: Return to writing vortex after DIL picks up granddaughter.
5:10 PM: Dragged from writing vortex by ripping sound in back yard. Find puppy on top of hot tub. Scowl at two-inch hole in cover.
5:40 PM: Return to manuscript after failed attempt to scold puppy.
(Seriously, she's just too cute to be mad at. I took her for a walk instead)
7:30 PM: Eyes blurry, settle for 2000 words typed. Realize I haven’t eaten all day. Settle in front of TV with peanut butter sandwich and a martini to catch up with the day’s events.
9:00 PM: Jolt awake on couch from a wet tongue as puppy delivers a present. Toss chewed flip flop in trash, do a search for all chewable items, and stumble to bed to toss and turn as plot lines and dialog echo through my mind.
7:00 AM Next morning: See yesterday…
Mac writes contemporary romance with a side of sass. Check out her latest releases in the Players series from Kensington/Lyrical, and find her at the usual haunts.