From Brazil, it is hard to imagine the European literary environment of the 19th century, in which it was not only possible to make some money from literature, but also to make a living from fiction. Just imagining a payment, any payment, priced by the number of pages written, is something that makes the brain freeze. Less absurd than imagining a publisher paying something for literature is thinking about the act of creation invaded by thoughts such as: “I’ll charge so much per page”, “I’ll offer the work to this and that publisher”, “I need to finish the book to get paid”… And this as a rule! experienced by practically all authors! Then the thought flies to the economic aspects: this work was sold for so much, that one for so much, this author sold so many works a year, that one so many, and so on. And to think of the authors who made up Brazilian literature, financing their own work, publishing out of a mixture of duty and love, and never counting on the possibility of earning a living from literature. The contrast is brutal!