Here's a little story, to scare you (if you're the worrier type) or maybe
make you laugh (hi, auditor!).

Let's say I have a banner year, and I sell a book (hey, it could happen. It's
a story!).

Of course, it's only a single book, and worse it's to my cousin Joe in East
Elbow.

That's cousin Josephine. Cousin Joseph lives in West Elbow, not East Elbow.
They're forever driving back and forth, trading mail with each other. It's
a source of mild family friction (them) and hilarity (the rest of us). Twins,
right?

Where was I? Right, I sold a book to cousin Joe (not Joseph) in East Elbow.
Now, there's an odd coincidence. Seems I went to school with an auditor in
the East Elbow Tax Department, and she happens to remember that I always said
I wanted to be a writer when I grow up (hey, don't laugh. It's a story,
anything could happen).

Being a curious sort, and having stumbled across Data Guy's brand new
commercial website touting all this brand new author sales information, this
auditor also remembers that cousin Joe (not Joseph) lives in East Elbow, too.

What a coincidence? Right?

So, this curious auditor, knowing that cousin Joe (not Joseph) may just be
the type of relative to have bought a book from your truly, wonders, naturally
enough, if cousin Joe (not Joseph) might have done her duty to the little
(but gorgeous, you should see downtown, the oaks and the old railroad...)
municipality they both know and love.

So, this curious auditor puts down a buck or two at Data Guy's website, and
loe and behold, what does she find?

My name. And my one little sale. Banner year, remember?

And, since she's already got two pieces of puzzle that look like they fit
together, our bright and curious auditor has enough pieces of puzzle to
wander down the hall. That's where East Elbow keeps their Judge.

Judge Reinhold.

What a coincidence, I know!

Any rate, Judge Reinhold is old. He's a little hard of hearing.

But he loves his little town (they've got a nanobrewery!), so when the bright
and curious auditor has a request?

He signs a well-developed request for information (i.e. a warrant, summons,
whatever the form says at the top) on behalf of East Elbow to the mighty
corporation of Amazon.

Which the bright and curious auditor promptly sends off to Amazon. And, since
the request for information comes nice and clean, with all the right fonts,
and, most importantly, Judge Reinhold's signature affixed all nice and pretty
to the bottom, next to the shiny official city seal...

Amazon sends our bright and curious auditor cousin Joe's (not Joseph's) address
and information five minutes later (yeah, it's a story. Just remember: in
principle, any taxing authority where Amazon has a presence has this official
authority. Do you want to believe that, if enough of them start doing it,
Amazon will hold out? Or be able to, if these little warrants come en masse?).

And our bright and curious auditor promptly sends a sales tax request off to
cousin Joe (not Joseph). At which point, she comes knocking on my door, telling
me I owe her fifty cents, and oh by the way this book sucks can I have a beer?

Followed by cousin Joe (Joseph now, keep up) five minutes later, because as
it turns out West Elbow got involved. Because the Amazon tech mis-typed her
email, and East Elbow, West Elbow, who the hell knows the difference anyway?

But the West Elbow auditor, while bright and curious as well, and ready to
retire next year to spend a little time kite fishing a couple thousand miles
south, knows the difference. Doesn't care, and is quite happy to send along
a sales tax request, just in case.

Now, multiply that email by about five billion and twenty (number approximate)
and you'll see why Amazon, at least, might not end up appreciating the
situation that Data Guy's operation has put them in. When they realize it.