Last month, I came across this wonderful blog post by attorney Mark Fowler over at RightsofWriters.com (@RightsofWriters on Twitter), which details the difference between plagiarism and copyright infringement. Essentially, plagiarism is an ethical, not an actionable offense, according to Fowler and others he quotes. Copyright infringement is a different story. According to Fowler, “Plagiarism does not amount to copyright infringement unless (a) the plagiarist has republished copyrightable expression of another, and (b) the amount of copied expression exceeds the boundaries of fair use.” For examples of what is and is not fair use, see Fowler’s post.
So where does that leave us? We writers who share our short stories and book chapters in critique groups, at writers’ conferences, and in MFA programs—is our work safe? Since the copyright of unpublished work can be difficult to prove, and substantial portions have to be copied verbatim in order to claim copyright infringement, is there anything to prevent a fellow writer/student/colleague from stealing our ideas? The answer is no. Here’s an example:
This past February, I read the New York Times Book Review of a novel written by a former classmate of mine from my MFA program at Mills College. I was surprised when I came upon this quote: “[Elena] Shapiro has given her fictionalized Louise an extraordinarily sensual nature. She straddles a motorcycle with “thrilled and shivering limbs,” commits adultery (and possibly incest) to the rhythms of the Lord’s Prayer and, like every Frenchwoman I have ever observed, approaches food like a lyric courtesan.”
Strange, I thought. I also wrote about a character who had sex to the rhythms of the Lord’s Prayer in an Advanced Fiction Workshop I took at Mills, in which Shapiro was working on the novel quoted above. After reading the review, I bought Shapiro’s book, 13 rue Thérèse, and read it. When I arrived at the scene mentioned above, I was stunned at how closely it resembled my own scene, which is in the memoir I’m currently working on (I had submitted my memoir as fiction at Mills because I wanted to take Yiyun Li’s class). To be sure, I thumbed through my archive of MFA critiques, and there it was, the passage I had written and submitted in Li’s workshop with Shapiro’s critique and signature attached, dated October 5, 2005. In the scene (below), I have just had unprotected sex with a Frenchman and am now praying to God that I don’t get AIDS. The scene takes place in Paris in 1988. (I’ve added the bold to emphasize the similarities between the two passages):
“I swear I’ll pray every day for the rest of my life. I’ll start right now. Our father, who art in heaven … wait, I thought Pierre was asleep … hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come … oh, God, not again. Doesn’t he ever get tired? … thy will be done on Earth as it is in Heaven. Give us this day … what is he doing? I’m not a dog! … Our daily bread … oh, that actually feels pretty good … and forgive us our trespasses, as we … I’ve never tried this side scissor position before … forgive those who … oh, oh God, I think he’s coming again … trespass against us. Hail Mary, full of grace … oh don’t even bother, you’ll be there all night … the Lord is with thee. … Believe me, there’s no point … Blessed art thou amongst women and … oh God, oh God …
blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, mother of God … oh, oh,
oh shit! Shit! Shit! … pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death,
Amen.”
The scene from Shapiro’s book also takes place in Paris (1928). And, like in my scene, the chapter culminates with an orgasm followed by the word “Amen.”
I hesitate to quote the entire passage because I’m not familiar enough with fair use laws to know how much is “fair,” but here are a few lines from 13 rue Thérèse. Again, the bold is mine:
“Our Father who are in heaven, his beautiful mouth!—is on hers.”
“She can feel he is hard for her oh—forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us—the pure unrestrained joy of it.”
“He begins to nibble the side of her neck: she starts to squirm, letting out something that sounds like a little hiccup when she feels teeth— hallowed be Thy name Thy kingdom come Thy will be done—”
“When he finally penetrates her, she says thank you. Amen.”
The love scenes are different, but the trope (interspersing lines of the Lord’s prayer into a sex scene) is clearly the same. But, like Fowler states, “When caught in the act, almost all plagiarists, including Helen Keller, plead cryptomnesia” (unconscious plagiarism).
Shapiro’s response to my e-mail about the matter states: “[W]hen I wrote the scene for my book I had absolutely no recollection of that scene in your story. That prayer is a very familiar rhythm that everybody knows; I went to Catholic school so its French version was in the background of my entire childhood. I am sure it has flitted through many a head throughout history while making love, and my guess it that it has been used in sex scenes in other published works before because of its ubiquity and significance.”
Okay, first let’s take a poll. How many of you recite The Lord’s Prayer while having sex? Can I see a show of hands?
And here’s a little advice: One) Copyright your unpublished manuscripts. All original work is automatically copyrighted when it’s written, but you need written proof that you wrote it on a particular date to make, or fight, a copyright infringement case in court. One way to do this is through the United States Copyright Office. Another way, according to a professor at Mills with whom I spoke about this incident, is to send it to yourself via Certified Mail and DO NOT OPEN it. Just store it away in a safe place. Two) Think twice before sharing your work with others. Don’t be paranoid about it, and do participate in critique groups with people you trust, but if you have a novel idea or a turn of phrase of which you feel particularly proud, protect it—because, from what I understand after reading Fowler’s post, only the direct copying of substantial passages of text is actionable. Copying ideas is not. Writing similar passages is not. But it leaves you feeling like your best friend just slept with your boyfriend, and no one needs that.
What about you? Has anyone ever copied your work, inadvertently or intentionally? Have you ever plagiarized someone else without realizing it? How did you handle those situations?
@Meghan: thank you for sharing what you have been going through–every writer's nightmare! Workshopping/sharing one's work is an act of deep trust, and in MFA programs, we don't always get to choose our peers. To this day, I don't share my work with just anyone–and I am also very very aware of what I read as I write my novel. For instance, my novel is partially set in wartime Korea–and for that reason, I have not read (even though I have purchased) Chang-rae Lee's The Surrendered. There is just too much material that could potentially seep into my unconscious and straight into my novel. I hope I never do such a thing. Then again–yes, I am cynical abt peers who say they didn't "steal" my idea "on purpose"–but at the same time, don't apologize/honor a sincere dialogue.
Christine – Mills added an addendum to their student handbook about plagiarism after I discussed this matter with them, so maybe something good will come out of this. I have another friend beginning her MFA TODAY at SF State and I told her to ask them about their policy for dealing with copycats. There is such a thing as people coming up with the same phrases/ideas at the same time (I wrote about a character having a VPL (visible panty line) and then read the same phrase in Vogue six months later), but I also think that 90% of the time we know in our gut when we've copied someone else's work.
Meghan — this is fascinating and, yes, horrifying. I felt a wave of vicarious nausea reading Shapiro’s passage after yours. (I must say, as someone fiddling with the early stages of a book about sex & spirituality, I want to quote both passages — and will certainly cite accordingly.) I wrote a story a few years back, about a woman who held her own love life up to the kind of “hot sex” advice that shows up in Cosmo — and then read the bestselling Girl’s Guide to Hunting and Fishing, which did the same thing in its title story. I can’t claim that Melissa Bank saw my story before writing hers, so I couldn’t claim the same kind of “coincidence.” I’m sorry you had this happen. Ycch. (One question, though: Why send the mss to yourself and then not open it, though? How does that protect copyright? Wouldn’t the file date — in the computer, say — prove when it was written?)
I doubt seriously anyone has ever copied my work. I suppose I might be more flattered than anything else, unless they stole the whole idea. Maybe worse is coming up with some brilliant idea and finding someone else already beat you to it (without stealing it from you)? if nothing else, this episode, including the "dog ate my homework" excuse, will make good fodder for your appearance on the Today show when you're on your book tour.
The most irritating thing is that an original writer could be perceived as having copied the work of his plagiarist if the original writer's work is published after the plagiarist's.
First, I have to say how much superior your passage is to the plagiarist's. Yours is fresh, visceral, and intense. Hers is romance novel cliches mixed with the Lord's Prayer.
Then, I have to admit I've done things like this–always without realizing it. Not that I've taken something from a critique group, but I suffer from good listener syndrome. I'm a magnet for talkaholics. Mostly their stories are boring, but they become part of my subconscious, and come out in fiction.
It's happened more than once. I recently published a story about an agoraphobic Avon lady who became the best-seller in her state, year after year. When she died, her heirs found her basement stuffed with thousands of Avon products, because all her sales were to herself.. When it came out in a local magazine, I got an irate phone call from a friend of a friend whose grandmother had been an Avon lady who died with a shed stuffed with products she'd "sold" to herself.. He'd told me the story at a party a decade before. I didn't even remember him, but obviously, I'd remembered the story.
If people talk at me, they have to realize I can't delete the tape. That stuff is in there. As I said in a recent blogpost, maybe we should all wear T-shirts that say "I'm a novelist. Anything you say can be taken down and used against you in a work of fiction."
Of course you're talking about taking another writer's work, not just raw material. There's a line that seems to have been crossed there, but if the plagiarism was as unconscious as my "stealing" this guys' Avon lady story, I'm not sure there's any real fault here.
I think probably all you can do is relish the superiority of your own work and accept this imitation as a sincere form of flattery.
Anne – I do think there's a huge difference between using a story you heard at a cocktail part in your work of fiction and using a story already written by another writer whose work you critiqued in an MFA workshop. That guy may never have had any intention of publishing that story, and if he had – well, I guess he should have done it before telling everyone at the party. I've been self-conscious telling stories at dinner parties with other writers, knowing they may use them in their stories – but I know not to tell them if the story really matters to me.
I think Anne hit almost every nail on the head. I can’t add much to that, other than I’m sorry you’re dealing with such a difficult, emotional situation. :/
Thanks, Kristan 🙂
Yes, it happened to me too. I'd written a little journal for high school kids to take along when they went on college visits, which I marketed for about ten years. Got the ISBN and everything.(My former career was as a college counselor.) I created categories of things for kids to pay attention to, and then offered some prompts to use to fill in the blanks. They were intended to be humorous and a little off-the-wall, not at all standard. Then one day, someone at the school where I worked suggested I take a look at something someone from a private high school had posted online–a guide for visiting colleges that anyone could download. And there were my categories and my off-the-wall prompts and my rating system!! I was dumbstruck! A total rip-off. I asked my lawyer husband to write them a nasty letter, citing my copyrighted work and illustrating the hard-to-miss similarities. We got back a letter from their lawyers saying, essentially, we didn't do anything wrong, but we won't do it anymore. They also made some snide remarks about the originality of my work. Bad form. The guide was removed from the website after that.
Watch out when people protest too much, I guess.
Risa – I agree with Anne – that's horrible. I'm glad they took it down. I guess beyond that there wasn't much you could do. And that's a lesson I've learned about having your work copied – there isn't much you can do. If it isn't a large passage copied word for word, it's really difficult to claim copyright infringement. Like Anne said above, I guess we just have to remind ourselves that imitation is flattery.
That reminds me of a writer–can't remember the name– who received an email from a friend: "You'll really like this article!' — to which she replied, "Yeah, I like it. I WROTE it!"
No attribution, so no way to prove who ripped it off. Frustrating!
That's a great (but sad) story.
Risa–wow: that's out and out piracy. I can't believe they could claim they didn't do anything wrong. Sounds like the laws need to be changed.
Meghan–thanks for the great blog comment and I'm so sorry I gave Holly your name. Plain, dumb, not-paying-attention. It's fixed now.
Anne – Thanks for fixing Holly's name – I make mistakes in my blog all the time and have to go back and fix them later. Your "The Way We Publish Now" post is next on my list!
It's such an interesting debate, especially when considering how the mind hides and catalogs things. For example, while trying to think up a final title for my book (a biography of M.F.K. Fisher) I came up with this to use as a subtitle: The Lives and Loves of M.F.K. Fisher.
I thought the subtitle perfect, and submitted it to the publisher. A few weeks later I discovered that another bio of Fisher used that phrasing as it's subtitle. I'd looked at the book (of course!) but not in a long time (didn't want to be too influenced by another biographer's work). Still, it had gotten into my brain, and I nearly passed the other biographer's subtitle off as my own. That would have been awkward…
The point being, until I caught the snafu, I was pretty proud of my "original idea."
Anne – Thanks for your comment. There's no way to prove what goes on in someone's mind – whether they read your work and subconsciously filed it away or outright stole it. In my case, my classmate had a history of "borrowing" ideas from other writers. A week after I submitted a first-person story about a fashion model in Paris to that same workshop, she submitted a first-person story about a fashion model in Paris. It seemed a blatant parody at the time, but given the more recent situation, it's impossible to know what was going on in her head.
This is such a bummer, Meghan. You should write the NYT book reviewer and the head of the Mills grad program and send them a link to your blog.
I hope the copy cat reads your post!
(I inadvertently just posted this rant on your "about" page, because I'm a fucking technological grandma. If you're feeling editorial, maybe you can take it down so my dorkery isn't immortalized. At least not here.)
I had it happen WITH THE INSTRUCTOR of an advanced private workshop in L.A. It's a small world (you probably know her) so I won't out her here. It was memoir, and it was very specific. I even read the piece at a reading she arranged, and she never–not once, during the three weeks we worked those pieces, (even, in a private phone call where she pointed out tiny, tiny language tweaks, pre-reading)–commented on the fact that she, too, had committed a sex act in a certain way AND HAD THOSE EXACT SAME THOUGHTS while she was doing it, which, y'know, would have been a pretty big coincidence, certainly conversation-worthy, amirite? Her book came out (to rave lit reviews) last year, which pretty much shelves that particular piece in my world. Sigh. I'd forgotten about it but it still makes me burn red hot when I think about it.
Shanna – I'm really sorry to hear about that. That's what's so unfortunate, that when someone steals unpublished work, the original writer will then be perceived as the copycat if she publishes it. I know someone else who was in an MFA program here in the Bay Area in which a professor/successful author stole from a student in her workshop. And I know a professor who said a student copied a line straight out of her book and then denied it. Sadly, there's little anyone can do unless the passage is substantial (at least a few sentences?) and word for word. Sigh.
[…] Meghan Ward debates the thorny issue of copyright, plagiarism and cryptomnesia. […]
"Mediocre writers borrow; great writers steal." So said Oscar Wilde. Or Pablo Picasso. Or Aaron Sorkin. Oh,no, according to yet another website it's T.S. Eliiot: “Immature poets imitate, mature poets steal.” Problem is, a great line that echoes a meme or an archetype will be borrowed, stolen, and misattributed. Ideas circulate culturally, half-submerged and then break to the surface, often in multiple locations. Was I "stolen" from when I proposed a profile of Dennis Kucinich to the NY Times magazine and later the magazine ran a profile (by someone else) using a colorful direct quote about Kucinich by Peter Coyote (in an obscure story by me that I'd sent to the Times to back up my query? I was disappointed, but I wouldn't call it stealing. Ideas circulate in a gift economy. What about five words? I'm currently writing about technological modern American dying — and a wonderful doc named Dennis McCullough used the brilliant phrase "a prolonged and attenuated dying" in his book (My Mother, Your Mother.) Should I use his phrase, alter his phrase, credit his phrase in a footnote, or call him up and ask him if he minds if I borrow/steal it? If Atul Gawande also writes a book on dying and we say many of the same things, did we steal each other's ideas or are we just part of the same culture? The direct lifting of style and word choice is another matter, as in Megan's situation. I once covered a speech open-mouthed as the public speaker lifted three or four distinctive paragraphs wholesale from an essay I'd recently published –and I didn't have the guts to confront him afterwards!) On the whole, though, I don't worry about being stolen from.
Katy – Thank you for sharing your own experiences. It's too bad that you didn't confront the public speaker, but most of us probably wouldn't have had the courage to do so. I would think in the case of "a prolonged and attenuated dying," you'd just put it in quotes and attribute it to McCullough or paraphrase if and put his name in the footnotes. I wouldn't think you could use those exact words without giving credit, but good question – are using five exact words copyright infringement? I don't know enough about IP law.
Put the phrase in quotes. I think this is acceptable if it's a brief phrase or sentence.
By the way, Meghan, I think you can (and should) post the whole paragraph where the similarities occur. It's only fair to her and gives the reader a chance to come to his/her own conclusion. I can't think of a more appropriate use of "fair use" — it's to make a comparison for a valid literary reason, not to pass off her paragraph as your own or hitch-hike on the glories of her style.
Katy – that's a good point about posting her entire paragraph. Hers scene is much longer than mine. Still, I hesitate to quote too much of her work without being more familiar with fair use laws.
I'm sorry, Meghan. I'm really, really annoyed on many counts about this:
(1) This is not just an unconscious retelling (as Anne mentioned)– this author was IN YOUR MFA CLASS AND SIGNED THE CRITIQUE!! That makes it conscious.
(2) It was your ACTUAL memory–your memoir!–not just a scene. She stole your memory. Where does that leave you? She knew it was a memoir when she critiqued you. She knew that.
(3) Her response is disgusting. I'm sorry. It is.
Is there anything you can do about this? I'm glad you blogged about it and used all the names.
Sierra – I don't know that she knew it was my memory – since I was passing my memoir off as fiction in order to take Li's class. I think many people in the class did know, but I'm not sure who. But yes, it was my memory, so I can't change that. As for what I can do about it – not much from what I understand about copyright infringement. Although my piece was copyrighted and the scene was republished, it wasn't word for word, which would make it difficult to stand up in court. And frankly, it wouldn't be worth it. I went to small claims court three years ago, and the hours spent to fight for a couple thousand dollars that you may never receive are just not worth it the time, money, and emotional investment. I'd rather put that energy into my writing.
I’ll defend her response.
First, I’m told the first piece of advice lawyers give authors is to admit nothing, because “Gosh, I guess I forgot reading that…” might be taken as an admission of guilt by a judge.
Second, authors get hit with claims that they stole ideas from other people, even if the idea is as general as “a castle, on a lake, with wizards.” It’s possible that she doesn’t remember you or your piece, and is trying nicely to suggest that the idea isn’t so original that you couldn’t both have come up with it. For instance, Siouxsie Sioux did a sexy punk mash up of the Lord’s Prayer in the late ’70s throughout France. With that mix of France, sex and the prayer, I would have assumed that both you and the other author took inspiration from that.
This is a squishy line for me. There’s a difference between blatantly lifting someone else’s hard work, and being inspired by an idea and taking it home to play with it on your own. Authors do the latter all the time. It doesn’t seem like outright theft if she’s playing with the idea and using her own words, but it also doesn’t seem like she’s done very much to make it her own.
This is something I've thought of before. I have beta read a few books for people, and the ideas were great. Good for them, but then I started worrying that if I ever came upon such an idea on my own, somehow I'm cutting off my chance to use them. Also, how would I know it was my own. Things get stuck in the back of the mind and then come out. Who knows what's orignial in there?
Maybe I'm just being silly, but I'm not so anxious to beta read anymore.
Scott – That's an interesting take – the fear or reading other's work for fear of unintentionally copying them at some point in the future. Christine mentioned this above when she said she was avoiding reading books that take place in Korea because she's writing about Korea, but I don't think you should give up Beta reading altogether for that reason. I think most of us know when an idea is original and when it's not. I suppose there are exceptions, but if you do your best not to copy the work of others, I'm sure you'll be fine.
I went to a catholic school – said the lord’s prayer twice a day… But never during sex or ever after I left catholic school – ha ha – you haven’t quoted the entire passage – but what’s her context? Reciting the lord’s prayer during sex in your scene makes sense – does it fit in contexually in hers? The idea of prayer and sex is very alien to me – even tho I went to a catholic school – and since I didn’t grow up in the West I have no idea as to how commonplace this as ( as Shapiro claims) – as you suggest – I think people know in their gut when something was stolen and something wasn’t – I look to other artist’s work for inspiration all the time – but never remotely copy – it usually sparks the beginning of an idea – on the other hand, lot of artists copy old master’s – but always in their own style – it’s not considered stealing – like musicians doing covers of famous songs. – I think the big problem here is that she used an idea you had already discussed in a class you took together – and published it – altho it seems like you have enough proof ( notes from the critique) that she was actively engaged in reading your piece, as opposed to things that yr mind subconsciously registers – as during a conversation at a party – the big question is – wd you retain that scene in your memoir as you had written it? Could she for example accuse you instead of stealing HER idea? That’s what really sucks abt this whole thing – since you intend to publish your memoir.
I think Anne hit almost every nail on the head. I can't add much to that, other than I'm sorry you're dealing with such a difficult, emotional situation. :/
Thanks, Kristan!
I'll defend her response.
First, I'm told the first piece of advice lawyers give authors is to admit nothing, because "Gosh, I guess I forgot reading that…" might be taken as an admission of guilt by a judge.
Second, authors get hit with claims that they stole ideas from other people, even if the idea is as general as "a castle, on a lake, with wizards." It's possible that she doesn't remember you or your piece, and is trying nicely to suggest that the idea isn't so original that you couldn't both have come up with it. For instance, Siouxsie Sioux did a sexy punk mash up of the Lord's Prayer in the late '70s throughout France. With that mix of France, sex and the prayer, I would have assumed that both you and the other author took inspiration from that.
This is a squishy line for me. There's a difference between blatantly lifting someone else's hard work, and being inspired by an idea and taking it home to play with it on your own. Authors do the latter all the time. It doesn't seem like outright theft if she's playing with the idea and using her own words, but it also doesn't seem like she's done very much to make it her own.
Hi Mo – Thanks for your response. I'm not familiar with the Siouxsie song, but I'm curious to hear it now. Shapiro hasn't forgotten me – I have seen her recently, we are FB "friends," and she has commented on this blog. Had she written the scene before she read and critiqued mine in workshop, I'm sure she would have said, "Wow! What a coincidence! I have a scene JUST LIKE THIS in my novel." She was clearly "inspired" by my scene. And of course, the non-stupid thing for any author to do would be to claim "cryptomnesia," or "I have no memory of you having written a scene like that, which I read and critiqued and wrote my signature on before I took it and rephrased it and published it in my book." She does use her own words in her version of my scene, but the scenes are very similar–not similar enough, however, or I'd be in court rather than discussing the difference between plagiarism and copyright on my blog 🙂
I do appreciate your take on this, though. I think it's important to hear all sides.
I went to a catholic school – said the lord's prayer twice a day… But never during sex or ever after I left catholic school – ha ha – you haven't quoted the entire passage – but what's her context? Reciting the lord's prayer during sex in your scene makes sense – does it fit in contexually in hers? The idea of prayer and sex is very alien to me – even tho I went to a catholic school – and since I didn't grow up in the West I have no idea as to how commonplace this as ( as Shapiro claims) – as you suggest – I think people know in their gut when something was stolen and something wasn't – I look to other artist's work for inspiration all the time – but never remotely copy – it usually sparks the beginning of an idea – on the other hand, lot of artists copy old master's – but always in their own style – it's not considered stealing – like musicians doing covers of famous songs. – I think the big problem here is that she used an idea you had already discussed in a class you took together – and published it – altho it seems like you have enough proof ( notes from the critique) that she was actively engaged in reading your piece, as opposed to things that yr mind subconsciously registers – as during a conversation at a party – the big question is – wd you retain that scene in your memoir as you had written it? Could she for example accuse you instead of stealing HER idea? That's what really sucks abt this whole thing – since you intend to publish your memoir.
Aditi – I can't remember the context of the scene in her novel, but I do think it fit in. I'm fascinated by stories of people who – like Anne above – did unintentionally plagiarize someone. The mind works in mysterious ways.
Ps: yr scene reads so much better!
Thank you. My own scene has changed since the version above – and I'm not sure I'll even keep it in my memoir, but if i remove it it will be because it doesn't fit and not because Shapiro has a similar scene in her book.
If the scenes were similar enough to constitute copyright infringement, I'd win because I have proof that mine was written back in 2005 and that she read it and republished it.
Hi Meghan,
Interesting story. It really shatters the safety of a workshop to have someone steal your work like this. I have been in many workshops and never even thought of something like this happening, but it always can I guess. She should have at least admitted that she was influenced by your work. Her reaction makes me think it was more blatant stealing. Good for you for writing about it!
Jenny
Thanks, Jenny, for your support.
Every writer's nightmare. Ugh!
Feisty Cat – Thanks for stopping by!
Hey Meghan, your post brought up a swirling goulash of thoughts and emotions for me, not least among them sympathy and disgust–it's hard to be objective given our friendship and my longstanding enjoyment of your writing, not to mention the comically awkward memory of hearing about Elena sharing a piece called "moist seepings," about her period, in one of the first Mills workshops Laura attended.
But one, I emailed the reviewer, since the NYT stupidly doesn't have comments on book reviews. Two, plagiarism has been a big deal lately in advertising since recently one of the more noted agencies in the country got outed for apparently ripping off an old logo: http://www.logodesignlove.com/goodby-silverstein-…
Since advertising is so thoroughly derivative, it's a painfully salient issue for us, but for memoirists and fiction writers, it still brings up the complex question of where inspiration comes from. And how dissimilar does something have to be from something else to be "original?" Sure, I thought Elena's response was a little too definitive and sure of herself, but was it completely implausible? I don't think so. Maybe she really stole the idea, or maybe hearing your workshop piece bumped it up in her subconscious later when she was working on that scene. I guess the point I'm rambling toward is that while the memoir process might be different, I think it's hard to remember every possible ingredient that's gone into my creative stewpot over the years. (And also I'll admit that while it hasn't been the Lord's prayer, I've certainly had plenty of other odd unrelated thoughts during sex.)
But hey, if you're concerned about reposting an excerpt from her book (which I would concur with Katie that you need to do to let readers make an informed decision), I know just the place to go: http://www.copyright.com/ Speaking of old things coming around, I did data entry at this place one summer in college . . . and 13 years later, at last it might be helpful.
Nate
p.s. you want to fix the font switching between the first and second paragraphs? I was confused b/c you say "Fowler's post" and then the font changed which led me at first to think you were quoting him. (If anything, I'd use one font for the majority of the post and the other for the quotations.)
Nate,
Thanks so much for your support. How the subconscious works is a very interesting topic. Anne mentioned above that she thought she had come up with an original title for her book until she was informed that it was the title of a book she had used in her research. I think if Elena hadn't turned in a first-person story about a fashion model in Paris the very week after I turned in a first-person story about a fashion model in Paris in the same workshop, I'd be more willing to give her the benefit of the doubt. Instead, I found her response to be dismissing and condescending.
As for the font change, it's built into this template, and it's annoying, I know. It's been on my To Do list for about six months to switch this blog over to the customized design of the rest of my website, but I haven't had the time or courage to do it yet!
I'll take a look at the links you posted, especially copyright.com. Thanks for that.
Meghan
http://www.thesoulshattering.net/index.html
http://www.thesoulshattering.net/josip-izjava-poc…
Did Angelina Jolie use (steal) this book (The Soul Shattering in English) written by the Bosnian-Croatian author James J. Braddock a.k.a Josip J. Knežević, as the story platform for her movie In The Land of Blood and Honey?
Did she totally miss the truth and core of that genocidal war against Bosnia and her people?
Why was she banned from filming in Bosnia by the most influental organization of women – victims of the war?
Did she rewrite history and offended thousands of women and other innocent victims of the Serbian aggression on Bosnia & Herzegovina?
Should American women and human rights organizations get involved?
J.J. Braddock (a.k.a. Josip J. Knezevic) wrote the book “Slamanje duše“(“The Soul Shattering“in English. The book is entirely based on facts and actually is a tribute to the Bosnian tragedy. The book is a tribute to all the women (and girls) of Bosnia & Hercegovina, who were subjected to the inhumane, intended, organized and perpetual abuse and rape – an important part of the policy of „ethnic cleansing“, designed by the Serbian megalomaniacal and genocidal chauvinists, who were (and still are) plotting to create "The Greater Serbia" – an ethnically cleansed political entity, by occupying and annexing territory of their neighbors (particularly Bosnia & Herzegovina, Croatia, Montenegro, Kosova) and annihilating native population by all types of terror, including already mentioned rape, mass murder, genocide, deportation, torture etc. Even after twenty years that passed since the Serbian war started (first “an weekend campaign” in Slovenia, than bloody butchery of Croatia, and finally …
Posting yourself a copy of your manuscript and not opening the envelope to register copyright is one of those urban myths. Or as we Brits say, a load of bollocks. You'd be laughed out of court….
I’ve found myself writing in a similar style after read a famous bestselling author before. I did not copy his story or any part (I’m pretty sure he doesn’t own the idea of adultery itself). I have been reluctant to share my work for worry of my ideas being stolen. There was one instance in particular where I shared a story that had a main character as part of a baseball organization. The person critiquing said he hated it and it was awful, which was shocking because the 10 other people raved and wanted more. A few weeks later he asked me to share more of that same story and said he’d decided to suddenly write a baseball themed story himself. Knowing he had a short story due ASAP I didn’t share any more of mine. It did make me very wary as to whether he had/has stolen my own work.
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[…] Plagiarism. Writers steal content and ideas all the time. And unless an excerpt is copied word for word, it’s difficult to prove copyright infringement in […]
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For the best answer please jump over to this website; http://Latimes.com/ – Mireya,
It's such an interesting debate, especially when considering how the mind hides and catalogs things. Then one day, someone at the school where I worked suggested I take a look at something someone from a private high school had posted online–a guide for visiting colleges that anyone could download.