I got a royalty check for my short story Sift, Almost invisible, Through in “Crimes by Moonlight”, edited by Charlaine Harris. And I feel great.
Getting royalty checks is rare enough in this business. Getting them for short stories in anthologies is almost like knowing the speed and direction of a subatomic particle: Theoretical, at best. Usually. Now I expect the universe to adjust the scales by dropping a piano on my head. Nice knowing y’all.
Huh. Funny thing. I just got my first royalty check for Greasing the Pan yesterday, too. Think we’ll be found by palaeontologists 90 million years from now, still locked in combat like the Mongolian Fighting Dinosaurs?
Paul: I challenge you to a duel. Convert your check into rolls of pennies, and I’ll do the same. We’ll build couch-cushion forts and fling rolls of pennies at each other. Whoevere runs out of missiles first loses. And gets a roll of pennies to the head.
Sounds more than fair. For me, that’s like playing Russian roulette with an automatic, but there you go. (Speaking of which, you get a chance to go through your copy yet?)