I'm posting this because folks keep asking me how to send me money via Paypal. (I'll add it to the sidebar, along with the comment moderation policy, in due course.)
I write this blog because (a) I'm a compulsive communicator, (b) I work on my own in a small office with a cat for a co-worker (who is a poor conversationalist: she's trying to qualify for the Olympic sleeping relay), and (c) I can kid myself that by blogging I'm promoting my work, which is to say, giving you an advance taster of what I'm obsessing over so that you'll maybe go and buy the books.
I don't carry advertising for third parties because this blog exists to showcase and promote my own writing. I figure that to promote an informational product, the best thing you can do is hand out free samples — which is what this is. And putting advertising content inside what is in effect one giant ad is, I think, taking chutzpah to a new level. Besides, I hate ads. So: you don't need to pay me for writing this blog.
But. Folks still ask me how they can send me money. Usually it's because they've downloaded a warez copy of one or more of my books and enjoyed it and want to pay. Well, I'm happy they enjoyed the books, and pleased that they want to pay me — but still: no tipjar.
If I put a Paypal tipjar on this blog, to take conscience money from folks who've downloaded a (cough) unauthorized ebook or two, the money would come to me, not to the publisher. And without the publisher those books wouldn't exist: wouldn't have been commissioned, wouldn't have been edited, wouldn't have been corrected and marketed and sold in whatever form filtered onto the unauthorized ebook market. (Yes, they commission books, and pay authors for them up-front — a vital part of the process, because most of us can't afford to take a year to write a book on spec and then hope somebody liked it enough to buy it. And if you think my bank manager would front me the kind of advance money that Ace, Orbit, or Tor have no difficulty offering for a novel that isn't even written yet, let alone doing so without charging interest or asking for their money back when the product's late, well ... you might want to think again.)
Your typical book publisher is not like the music or movie industry; they run on thin margins, and they're staffed by underpaid, overworked folk who do it because they love books, not because they're trying to make themselves rich on the back of a thousand ruthlessly exploited artists. I think their effort deserves to be rewarded appropriately.
Luckily there's a simple solution that should make everyone happy.
If you've downloaded unauthorized copies of my books, instead of hitting on a tipjar button, I urge you to buy a (new) copy of one of my books. (Feel free to use the Amazon links to the right of this web page.) It doesn't matter which one. If it's one you read and liked, why not give it to a friend? Or if it's a new one to you, read it and then give it to a friend. Or keep it, eat it, frame it and hang it on the wall, or donate it to a library — whatever you do with it after you bought it is up to you. The only proviso is, it needs to be a new copy. That way, both I and my publisher get a kickback, and you (or a friend, or a library) get a new reading experience.
(Things you might like to know: (a) Neither I nor my publisher get a bent penny from second hand book sales, (b) we don't get anything from remainder sales either, (c) we get about five times as much from a hardcover as a mass-market paperback, and (d) yes I know DRM is the root of all evil, and so do the publishing folks I deal with: why it still happens and why you can't buy sensibly-priced DRM-free ebook editions of most of my work is a long story and material for a different blog post.)