My Masochistic Ritual

I was performing my regular masochistic ritual of checking my book sales earlier today and when I pulled up my Amazon author’s page, I found this listing for my first children’s book, “The Mountain Climber” (note the price):

Screen Shot 2019-03-02 at 7.59.16 AM

The background details are more than a little convoluted, but this particular book is in limbo right now and two days ago was listed (correctly) as out of print. When I checked a couple of minutes ago it was back to that listing, so either someone who had a used copy sold it and made more money with one sale than I have in my entire writing career, or Amazon discovered a scam and removed it.

In any case, I had the momentary experience of having one of my books, an out of print children’s book from several years ago, listed at an exorbitant price on Amazon. In a way, I hope the seller was legit and found a buyer with lots of disposable income. I write because I love it and for the occasional pleasure of having a reader tell me how much they enjoyed my work; if someone could score a windfall of that size from a $15 book, I applaud their entrepeneurship and incredible stroke of luck.

Not that I would turn down a percentage if it were offered.

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A career working with teenagers on the fringes of society has made me both sensitive to and appreciative of the complexities of character and the struggles, inner and outer, that we all wrestle with in one form or another. My writing emphasizes character development over action, and, as a lifelong Southerner, the rhythms and cadence of the Southeastern United States influence both my spoken and written voice.

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