So I randomly sold a book this week on Amazon, which prompted them to order two more books. I love when that happens. The rush of adrenaline. The genuine pleasure of feeling discovered. The financial joy of making almost seven bucks. Ah, the ecstasy. And most of all, the complete and utter shock and confusion over how it happened. After every book sale, I spend at least an hour internally and externally debating how someone found out about the book when I have been a lazy ass clown and haven’t completed my Dismantle My Bed site or done any kind of press release. Here are some theories about how it happens…

1. You know those dreams where you are with people that you have never seen before, but yet, in the dream world, you know you know them. And sometimes, they will actually have names, like you will hear someone say “Come on Matt,” and you think “So, you are Matt. How do I know you Matt? I know I know you. Hm.” Well, maybe I was in someone’s dream like that, and they said “Hey Riley, what’s going to happen to Cinderella in the sequel?” And the next morning, they got up and googled “Cinderella + Riley”, got this, and thought “Crickets and Croquet, she does exist,” and then curiosity just got the best of them and cost them $14.95 plus shipping.

2. They ran into a feminist book buyer from Oakland. I do have quite the fan base there. It’s my proudest zip code, the only five digits where I am not an unknown loser-cakes. I am liked by those who use hemp tampons and spell women with a ‘y’. They are my people in Oakland, and I hear they can be mighty persuasive.

3. One of my co-workers realized what a dumb kid I really am, and how much debt hangs over me like. It’s kind of like when you are walking in NYC during a rainstorm and someone with a big golf umbrella is keeping pace right beside, so all of the rain runs off of the edge of their umbrella and right onto the top of your head. This is an even greater risk when you are five-three and apparently invisible. Anyway, maybe one of my older, wiser co-workers realized I’m in the shit, and took pity on my poor shit-living soul.

4. Someone desperate for good karma asked a fortune teller what to do, and the fortune teller said “Buy this girl’s book. When the pathetic help the pathetic, miracles happen.” For them, not for me.

5. I somehow created my own good karma by putting positive energy out into the world. In my sleep.

6. Someone has slight-rhyme dyslexia. They were really searching for a “grimy ashtray.”

7. A member of the Disney inquisitorial squad who is looking over my application for the coming fellowship year got curious, looked me up, and decided to buy my book for one of the following reasons:

a) I am so close to securing a fellowship that they wanted to know more about me and my fabulously talented self.

b) I am so far from securing a fellowship that they wanted to read something else I had written so they could continue their out-of-context laughter at my expense.

c) They noticed that we have used some of the same characters in our works and my book is intended to be ‘Exhibit C’ at my coming trial when they sue me.

d) They were thinking about a direct-to-video hybrid movie where Belle and Jasmine are stranded on a desert island, sing sweeping torch songs by Phil Collins, and finally discover the meaning of life, love, friendship, and what lies beneath each other’s clothes.

Mm, that does tempt. I call upon the fan fiction writers whose works I have enjoyed to please take this idea and run with it.