The only reason I'd go to Scotland -- other than that fun thing I talked about doing with select explosive ordnance at WorldCon -- would be to hang out at Stuart MacBride's way-fancy-sounding launch for his novel, Cold Granite. Free food, right?
Then there's the recent facial injury. How many writers do you know who could carry off that eye patch? With that accent? (You pregnant ladies and other easily-queased folks might want to skip his April 22nd entry or risk bidding your Wheaties adieu.)
I'd go, but unfortunately they won't let me out of the country. Cause one measly little international incident, get your passport yanked by the State Department. I still think the French over-reacted. My shoes almost matched my purse.
Anyway, since most of us Yanks can't crash the lad's launch, I say we go over and have a comment party on his weblog while he's gone. Enough of us show up, he'll think he's been BlogSPAMmed. We could even pretend to be SPAMmers and really mess with him.
Seriously, a novel launch is a wonderful and terrifying thing. If you do have a minute, stop by Halfhead and wish him luck.