The Lucky 7’s: How and Why I Clap the Way I Do

“Green wall with white and green numbered mail boxes outside on 45th Street” by Jerry Kiesewetter on Unsplash

7 claps. That’s all you get from me. Not because I’m a stingy. Not because I don’t like your writing. And definitely not because I don’t understand and appreciate the amount of effort you put into writing it. The main reason is because the weird and wonderful wacky algorithms, or more accurately, my complete lack of understanding of how the claps for cash thing works.

I do know that since I’m a member every time I clap for a locked story a the writer gets some money. Or fraction of some money. Or a electronic signal that some point gets converted into money. And possibly a goat sacrifice, I don’t know. And I also know that I clap for a lot of writer’s locked stories each month. I assume those writers get paid. How much? I have no freaking idea. Maybe someone out there with a 200 IQ who speaks fluent binary knows, but I don’t.

“A robot named Pepper holding an iPad” by Alex Knight on Unsplash

So seven seems like a safe number. Nice for unintentional alliteration too. There are times when I’d love to drop 50 clap bombs all day long, but then I think, “Why dilute the love?” 7 feels right. It feels lucky. A 1 or 10 might slip through now and again, but 7 is what I shoot for.