I was on my way to sleep, but I just remembered to mention a recent event, and if I don't write it down now I'll forget again, so here goes.
One of the relevant pieces of backstory for the following is that Kam is now living in a house that I lived in for about three years in the early '90s.
On Saturday, Kam got back from the nine-day geology trip she'd been on, and she called to let me know she was back and to tell me that she had mail addressed to me.
Who's it from? I asked.
Tekno Books, she said.
For those unfamiliar with them, Tekno Books is a book packager run by anthologist Martin H. Greenberg.
Another relevant piece of backstory is that in 1995, one of their books was an anthology of short-short stories called 100 Vicious Little Vampire Stories, which contains my only professional-level sf sale to date. (That story was very good to me; it also helped me get into Clarion West.) I believe I sold the story for $75. (And btw, one reason that I try to be gentle with writers who behave unprofessionally is that I made a gigantic and embarrassing mistake in the process of selling that story to that anthology, and they were very nice to me and bought the story anyway.) A few years later they sent me a small royalty check, and I had always sort of wondered whether I ought to keep them apprised of my address as I moved, but figured it wasn't worth it. It never occurred to me that the last address they had for me was the place Kam's now living.
Anyway, yup, sure 'nough, the envelope contained a royalty check, for $16. I was thoroughly tickled.
I guess the moral is: always send change-of-address forms to your publishers, just in case.
Or maybe the moral is: short-short stories can be surprisingly lucrative over a surprisingly long period.