Czechs, or it didn't happen

[desperance]

There is little so depressing to a long-time mid-list author than the biannual arrival of royalty statements from publishers who have long since dropped you from their lists. If once you have received the Danegeld, you can never get rid of the data. Endless records follow you, of how this out-of-print book has sold no copies in this edition, and no copies in that edition, but half a dozen copies were returned from some far-flung territory so your numbers have in fact shrunk; and your all-time earnings are still five figures in arrears, and and and.

And yet: I still read them, y'know? Scrupulously, every page. Just because. They're numbers. Nay, more, they're my numbers.

And all unexpectedly, hidden among 'em, sometimes there's a Thing. An event worth recording, or even following up.

The current batch of royalty statements has flown from New York to Newcastle, whence it was for some reason returned to sender rather than being forwarded (eek! I have no idea if that's happening to other mail, or to all mail, or whether this was a one-off, or what...). It has now found its way to where it belongs, in my bosom office; and lo. Hidden among all the dreary facts of failure is this one bright line: Dragon in Chains has a translation deal, into Czech. Who knew? If I knew, I didn't remember; and I'm not at all sure that I did know. I forget many things, but seldom translation deals. Heh: it's a whole nother book with my name on it! Or will be. I don't know when this happened, except that the deal was done and the monies handed over before the end of March last year (why yes, it does take that long sometimes for royalty data to trickle down to the author). There may or may not be a book already...

EtA: Why yes, there is a book! And no, I certainly don't have it, didn't know about it, nada.