Based on sales from May 2010 to April 2011:
- James Patterson, $84 million
- Danielle Steel, $35 million
- Stephen King, $28 million
- Janet Evanovich, $22 million
- Stephenie Meyer, $21 million
- Rick Riordan, $21 million
- Dean Koontz, $19 million
- John Grisham, $18 million
- Jeff Kinney, $17 million
- Nicholas Sparks, $16 million
- Ken Follett, $14 million
- Suzanne Collins, $10 million
- JK Rowling, $5 million
And who says there is no money in writing?!
Ellen, only last night, asked, ‘Daddy, when will we be rich?’ But I did not say to her what I know: ‘We will be rich soon, and you who handle poverty badly will handle riches equally badly.’ And that is true. In poverty she is envious. In riches she may be a snob. Money does not change the sickness, only the symptoms.
“
| — |
John Steinbeck, The Winter of Our Discontent
|
I was looking up a quote on Google that eventually led me to checkout your blog. The pics I enjoyed seeing on your site: the forest made of Broccoli and the
research draft paper with correction marks in red ink. Teachers rule! If only I
could thank the educators of this once shy and quiet little boy from Brooklyn, NY, who never imagined he'd grow up to one day meet the President of the United States,and other very influential people in our nation and from overseas. Do not be surprised if the child who drew the sketch one day credits you for being a very positive influence. Oops! Sorry this is so long. As for my question: Why did you choose to teach in Podunk, PA instead of West Palm Beach, FL?
Anonymous
Thank you for the kind words on my blog and teachers. I’m sure that looking over my blog was a confusing and frightening view into my twisted mind. I hope that you’ll recover from this experience.
As for why I chose to teach in PA - well, it is not really an interesting story, but here it is:
I had accepted the job in West Palm Beach, FL in early August of last year. I had my finances in order, I had a place lined up to move into, and I had my brother and friend ready to help me move my stuff down. It was 8 PM on the night before I was to begin mydrive to Florida - my bags were packed, I was ready to go, and I was out celebrating with some friends - when I received the call about the Podunk, PA job.
I knew what I wanted - West Palm Beach, of course - but I also knew what was practical and what I needed to do. I had a significant amount of debt, having paid for college out of my own pocket and racking up a credit card bill because I couldn’t work during student teaching and buying a new car because my old one kicked it.
Economically, I didn’t really have a choice. The Podunk, PA job paid better. The cost of living was much, much lower (a $400 apartment here would be $900+ in West Palm Beach). And maybe the most alluring part, the Podunk job would cover the tuition on my graduate courses.
So, it came down to what life always comes down to: money. Isn’t that always the case? While in an ideal world, I would be down in West Palm Beach teaching, going oceanside with my laptop to write and read on the weekends, cruising on down to Miami for a few days in the summertime whenever I was bored, I don’t really regret my decision of staying in PA. It’s only temporary - and I always try to keep the attitude of making the best of my situation, which I do. I have a good time and I’m enjoying life.
Let me tell you about some people, he said. Some people aint worth a shit rich or poor and that’s all you can say about em. But I never knowed a man that had it all but what he didnt forget where he come from. I dont know what it does. I had a friend in this town I stood up for him when he got married. I’d give him money when he was comin up. Used to take him to the wrestlin matches, he was just a kid. He’s a big man now. Drives a Cadillac. He dont know me. I got no use for a man piss backwards on his friends. … You see a man, he scratchin to make it. Think once he got it made everything be all right. But you dont never have it made. Dont care who you are. Look up one mornin and you a old man. You aint got nothin to say to your brother. Dont know no more’n when you started.
“
| — |
Cormac McCarthy, Suttree
|
