For a freelance, one might even call me a hobbyist, author, money comes in dribs and drabs. $20 here, $25 there, a copy of the final antho or magazine issue if I’m lucky. I’ve not really made it up to the pros where my week of work can buy me more than a moderate meal.
One aspect of this is the royalty check. I’ve been at this for a few years now, have a dozen or so tales accumulating a few cents per purchase, but I’ve never received this mythical money.
Until this week.
One of my publishers changed their policy regarding royalty pay out and I heard the electronic coins dropping in my bucket. Much like that first story I sold, it’s exciting in that it’s a step forward for me, new territory, and a bit sad, a weak little thing that adds no weight to my wallet. No velvet ropes are parting just yet, but “slowly by slowly,” as my wife says, I’m getting closer to putting novels out. Maybe I’ll be able to celebrate on something other than the dollar menu.
Payday
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