Some of this lucre comes courtesy of my fiction, which, at last, seems to be of both publishable and payable quality, and God knows I always enjoy getting paid for an essay on "How to Pick Pasta from a Cauldron of Boiling Water Without Burning Your Hands: Five Easy Steps to Preserving Your Fingertips So You Can be Traced by the FBI and Still Play a Game of Catch With Ralphie after Performing Delicate Feats like Threading a Needle".
I'm not complaining about any of this. I love Paypal. As the name implies, it is a helpful tool. I just don't know how it works. But then, I'm still trying to figure out how the postal system works, too . . . as these new-fangled peel off stamps are tricky. I still want to lick 'em.
One of these days, when my Paypal account reaches peak-performance level and begins out-earning my 1.5% a year CD, I'll call the powers-that-be and inquire about having the balance transferred to my off-shore account in the Cayman Islands. That's where I hope to retire, but will probably have to wait until my wife expires before I can afford to build the grass hut on the beach.
Until then, keep those checks coming. I'll keep writing. I'll build my Paypal nest egg under the premise that the government doesn't know that such things exist. Perhaps my Paypal account is taxed at a much lower level, or cannot be traced back to me, as I have my account listed under my pen name: Wanda J. Wampeter.
In the meantime, I'll live on bread and water like writers are supposed to do and will continue to work toward improvement until I can write something truly spectacular. I already have the title in mind: Gone With the Wind.
I just have to check and make sure it's not been taken.
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