Dear No One,
Magic: The Gathering is a collectible trading card game, the great strange uncle of all such games. We aren't allowed to buy the cards, but we can purchase information. Families send in lists, or they are bought from the predatory vendors of gaming supplies that cater to inmates. (Noble Knights...Hit Point....) I've begun making my own small collection. Writing out card data on copy paper, using packing tape to give them durability and enough body to shuffle, I have a little treasure box that used to hold saltine crackers. Saltine crackers are fabulous. Its all contraband, because anything modified from its original purpose is contraband. To be clear, if I put a different brand of cracker in the saltine box it would all become contraband in that instant. Fortunately, most correctional officers aren't all that concerned with harmless nonsense. The biannual shakedown would be the greatest chance of loss, but even then, we will probably make it through. And if its all thrown away, the information remains. So we begin again.
Our first eBook should be available on the site by the time you get this. Its just M1, but getting the process down will make publishing M2 and 3 a more streamlined process. Typing on this thing is as fun as ever. Well be putting it up for 3.00, so our cut will be a bit over two dollars a download. I only mention this because that means thirty downloads will be the equivalent of my monthly wages.
Aiyah.
If I ever make more from writing than I do from working I'm quitting my job. That is a squat goalpost, sir. Squat.
New news. My family can't visit this weekend because there registration expired. You have to put in your paperwork three months ahead of time to be approved as a visitor, and renewals aren't much faster. Why you have to renew anything when you already visit and have your identity confirmed on a regular to semi-regular basis is beyond my puny mortal brain. Another item on the index of uncontrollable phenomenon.
I so want to make these letters interesting, but it isn't an interesting life I live.
Eternal apologies.
Yours,
William Myrl
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