PJ McIlvaine, the “Dragon Writer of Magical Things,” is one of our favorite people as well as the author of the best-selling VIOLET YORKE, GILDED GIRL: GHOSTS IN THE CLOSET, which we definitely recommend y’all immediately buy. Here’s the latest from her fine blog.
by PJ McIlvaine
You get these emails all the time. You know the ones.
“Dear Beneficiary,”
Or “We are holding ten gazillion dollars for you as the next of kin of–“ 
Scams, scams, scams.
But on this particular afternoon in the middle of June, when I clicked on the email from the manager of a digital marketing for a company I’d never heard of and read that I had won the grand prize of a sweepstakes which, in all honestly, I had a vague recollection of entering–and most certainly would not have entered if I had known what the grand prize was. Just one of those things I clicked on in Twitter, of that I’m sure. Because I have no doubt that when I saw the advertisement for the movie Mr. Malcolm’s List, as a huge fan of Bridgerton, Sanditon, and Belgravia (or any period piece with mystery, romance, and intrique), I would’ve clicked or retweeted it without blinking.
My first reaction, and also that of my family, was that it was some kind of scam. It had to be. I mean, I don’t win things. I’ve won two-four bucks at Mega and Powerball, but that’s about as far as my lucky streak goes.
But I quickly did an internet search, and sure enough, there was a sweepstakes for the movie premiere of Mr. Malcom’s List. And from what I could see, there was only ONE grand prize–an all-expenses paid trip to New York City to attend the Mr. Malcolm’s List movie premiere on June 29th.
Okay. It now appeared that the contest was truly legit. But me winning it? And going to NYC for three days to stay at the Plaza Hotel.
Impossible! For many reasons.
First, I’m prone to anxiety/panic attacks. I don’t venture too far from the house. I’ve been this way for years. Therapy, medication, you name it, I’ve done it. I’m a thousand percent better from say, five years ago, but I know my limits. This trip would be pushing it.
Plus, I have a sensitive tummy. Eating out for me is an ordeal. I have to be careful, and there was no way that I couldn’t not consume food while in the city. I’m not that silly or stupid.
Who would watch the grandkids? They were just starting summer vacation. Their parents worked and relied on us. This gave me nightmares.
And our Luna, our Frenchie. Who would care for her? We couldn’t lock her up in her pen for hours on end.