What Happened When I Became Rich and Famous

Sounds great, I know. You may have even dreamed it for yourself, but let me tell you people, it's not all it's cracked up to be. I would've been quite content to just be able to support myself with my writing. To write what I like and what readers like to read. I had no idea where this was all headed when I wrote my first little book.
It was great at first. Surprising and wonderful. Having money to do whatever you want is fabulous. I spent a lot of money those first few years. I bought a few homes, a new car (nothing fancy and I still own it), traveled, paid off debts for myself and those closest to me. But, soon I started noticing that too many people wanted too many things. People I thought were my friends, and people I thought loved me for who I was, not what I could buy them. And then there were the book signing tours for months on end and the movie deals I had to be a part of. I hated being forced to do all of that crap. I had every day planned for me for years. I couldn't go to the grocery store without being bombarded by people wanting autographs, or taking pictures, or asking if I remembered them and could I please do (fill in the favor) for them, when all I wanted to do was run in, get a case of Diet Coke and go home. It got to be too much. I never needed or wanted all of that stuff. I just wanted to be able to write for a living.
So, here I am all these years later. I am still rich and I still write. The difference is, now I write from my little cottage. I write a new book about every year or two, and because they have my name on them, they automatically become bestsellers. Most of my money goes into savings accounts for my kids once they have proven they can make it on their own (I don't want them to be cheated out of their own experiences...and struggling a little bit is a very valuable experience), or anonymous donations to schools and libraries.
I am still famous, but mostly for being a recluse. People seem to take great interest in that, and I'm positive that it is one of the main reasons that my books still sell so well. Every few months there is a tabloid headline with a picture of someone who isn't me stating that it is me. Oh, they've spotted me all over the world! Sometimes I'm obese and sometimes too skinny. Sometimes I've had so much plastic surgery that I am totally unrecognizable. None of the stories have ever been true. Silly isn't it? The truth is, I still look very much like I always have. I still change my hair color all of the time out of boredom and I have had a few nips and tucks over the years because I have to look myself in the mirror and not be horrified, but I am no Joan Rivers for sure. My neighbors have no idea who I am and I'm almost certain that the children in the neighborhood have made up plenty of stories about the lady in the little white house that nobody has seen for at least a decade. Only about six people know where I live. I cannot tell you where it is, but it is not out in the middle of nowhere. I like the sounds of the city. And I do go out sometimes. Mostly I go out at night, when the world is asleep.
 Don't feel sorry for me. I am completely happy and satisfied with the life that I lead. It is what I always wanted and I love it here. And no, I do not have a bunch of cats and I am not a weird germaphobe or a hoarder. I just like my quiet house where I can sit in peace and create my worlds on paper, and where nobody hears me talking to my characters.