Nuremberg Tour 37

A month before end of tour, the mail brings two items.
Army Personnel Services informs me my application for permanent membership has been approved. As of the time I arrive back in Canada, I will be promoted to M/Cpl and begin unit preparations for another Nuremberg tour.
The salary - almost twice what I made at the linen rental. There is now no question of returning to civvy life. Here I've found real friends, Army and the Germans of this forgotten little corner. Sense of belonging, never felt that before.
The publisher's envelope contains several items. From my hometown Jewish weekly, a clipping. It is a strident call to arms. Every businessman who signed the original boycott petition presented to the linen rental will be contacted again. It is time to make absolutely certain my employer understands how serious my sins are and how serious the petitioners are.
You see, up til now, I've only been guilty of the removal of their hero author. I've now even one upped myself in despicability. I've succeeded in cheekily insulting every Jew in Canada and every fan in Israel. I won't give the rest of the article, it goes downhill from there.
To this, the publisher stapled a short note. Please do not be harsh in your judgment of anyone other than the writer of the article. The social pressure will be so intense everyone will have to sign again or face ostracism.
My jaw drops as I see the quarterly statement of royalties, surely there must be a mistake. I calculate, then recheck, it's correct.
To this statement, the publisher stapled a letter. Thousands of e mails have arrived, demanding to know when my next book will be released and on which topic. He adds his personal read of the market is 1948 events would be the best choice. He implores me to give some vague public statement of intent, as a reply to these fans.
I stare out the window, ponder a bit. It would be the height of insanity to announce to the world my next novel will be on Guyana, that can wait.
I write a draft reply. At this time, negotiations are ongoing with my publisher as to sequel. We are considering a range of topics, mostly focusing on 1948, but not entirely. Please be patient as I have my military duties to attend to as well.
But first I'll talk with Farzana. I pick a time she and I are alone over coffee. With an overly casual look, I hand her the royalty statement.
She gasps, loudly, "holy sh**, Sarge has you beat but not by a lot."
"Really?"
"Sure, seen her quarterly statement. Money like that, you could easily forget the Army, write full time. My guess, you'd live to regret it. See then, the fans feel they own your soul. If you don't produce on time, every single year, they'll be in an uproar. Awful position to be in, simply because the muse comes and goes."
"I see, whereas If I stay in the Army, I could just say writing has been slowed a bit by my duties. They'd be more forgiving, less impatient."
"Not only that little one, but gives you more credibility. A career soldier writing mil fiction gives it a lot more authentic tone than does a civvy."
I stare out the window a moment. "Right, my mind is made up."
I'll send the reply when Indira and Sarge next show.