You know what? I read more of your work - one earned a nickel and the other seven cents. I was grieved. I don't know why because it happens a lot - I recall a line from a Joni Mitchell song where she saw a busker on the street, 'playing real good for free'. It happens but it's not right. I told myself, cream eventually rises to the top, but the cynic in me added sardonically, ' so do corpses'. I'm good with it because I'm past having to make a living out of it, but damn it, there's so much dreck out there because anyone can indulge his vanity and publish an e-book. It's just not right. You're writing real good for free.