I had to have that book.
I was on Facebook, today. There was a “page” discussing an American hero, killed in action June 6, 1944 in Normandy, France. He was the commanding officer of a parachute battalion, who was hung up in an apple tree. That’s where his body remained for several days. He never even made it to the ground before the enemy ended his life.
His battered and depleted battalion soldiered on, attaining their mission objectives and aiding in the pitched battle fought to preserve the foothold won on the beaches. Their achievements are chronicled in Tonight We Die As Men: the untold story of the Third Battalion, published in 2011. One click…
Somewhere, on a writer’s royalty dashboard, my sale and the buck-ish it derived appeared. Maybe because of the FB post mine was accompanied by others. Maybe they got an unexpected bump - “Hey, come look at this! Tonight had activity this weekend!”
It’s a wonderful thing. Get up in the morning, make a cup of coffee, open the Amazon Analytics page and see what’s cooking. Even a few cents’ change in the cumulative monthly tally is welcome. Someone, somewhere, is reading a book I wrote.
Maybe it’s different with the pros. Maybe my purchase just disappears into a sea of income. Maybe my buck doesn’t even register.
I doubt it. Writing a book is intense. When someone reads it (especially when they offer their own money to do it) it’s almost like the writer has made a new friend.
A new friend made in a way we introverts can manage.