Thursday, January 17, 2008

Far Flung Friends

A few odd years ago I was an actress. I lived in Manhattan and I had a wild group of acting friends with whom I acted ... wildly. When I packed my bags and climbed on the LIRR (no jet planes for me!) and returned to the old homestead, I gave up the dream of footlights and the roar of the crowd. What I hadn't expected was that my friends would give me up, in return. But of course, I'm always learning new things. Once I arrived home, my life was absorbed into the lives of others, for nigh unto 11 years. I catered, I curried, I fetched and toted. My grandmother passed away at 99, my baby brother was accepted into a group home for mentally retarded adult men and moved, and I was left alone with my Mother. My day job, which had initially offered me cerebral stimulation evolved into a static, moribund exercise that gave me no fulfillment or joy whatsoever. It was during a time of aching loneliness that I felt my urge to write resurface. I'd tried my hand at it in the late 70's, that time of Woodiwiss and Rogers and Small. But my creative energies were fed, instead, into performing, and I ceased even reading romance, instead filling my library with drama and theatre books. Once home, having abandoned, and been abandoned, by friends, I returned to my love of books of all other sorts, and romance - which had blossomed and matured and grown into a complex world of genres, was re-discovered. I attended the RWA nationals in 1996 or 97, and again in 2003. In 2001 I'd rejoined the New York City chapter on September 9. Fate stepped in and I never heard from them again. But my enjoyment of the 2003 convention led me back and I rejoined in 2005. In 2006 I was entreated to run for a Board position which, in my naivete, I did, assuming that as an unknown I would wallow in obscurity and be absolved of the responsibility. Not. I was an only-ran and here I sit before you the Secretary of the Chapter. But my involvement fomented an obsessive eagerness with all things RWA. And all things writerly. In June I joined the 6 on-line special interest chapters that appealed to me. This month I joined all the remaining chapters and have discovered what a wonderful world this counfounding internet can be!
From Alaska to Texas to Australia and New Zealand. New Jersey next door, and upstate mere miles away, I have gathered a group of friends that I have never met, but with whom I share the bliss of romance and writing. We kvetch, we cajole, we commisserate and complain. I've been seduced by Betty and her volunteering vigor. I've been swept away by Amber's enthusiasm. I've bowed to Maggie's entreaties and leapt into the fray with Carmen, and Vonna, and templarlady and JJ. Every day I rush to my emails to see all the news. I never fail to find another request to volunteer, and invariably I fold under the gentle pressure and the promise of comradeship and community. I enter contests when the entries are needed. I judge when there are no others. I'm the President of one chapter, an election committee member on another. I work on membership panels, and by-law committees, as a PR rep, and a member liaison. I help with workshops, and loop patrol and I offer up my knowledge whenever I'm asked. Whether public or private and with generosity and vigor, these ladies and gents have welcomed me into the cyber bosom of the community of romance authors. Not un-published, but pre-published. Not just published, but multiply published. Award winners, and still-striving, paranormal world builders and Christian storytellers. Easy to talk to, and quick to rile. Laughers and talkers. Defensive and defenders. Loving and caring and rowdy and stern. I have come to know a thousand people, and every day I await the emails that will introduce me to a thousand more. I read their work and they read mine. We laud one another and extol the virtues of love. We joke about Depp and we lust after Jackman. We are smart and funny and knowledgeable. We share, we donate, we support. But above all, we write.
These are my cyber friends. I don't know their voices, their sizes, their ages. I've never seen their homes, or shared coffee or margaritas. I do know their books. I've seen pictures on sites and I have heard tales of their lives. But despite the miles between us, the continents and countries, they are my friends. And they have been more true than the old friends that shared meals, and days, and gifts and space.

Tuesday, January 15, 2008

MYOB

Business. Even artists need to put on their businessman's hat if they want to do more than create in a vacuum. Writers are not exempt. Recent events in the world of popular fiction (i.e., Cassie Edwards' public trial on charges of plagiarism) and the furor and bruhaha that has ensued, have left me with the undeniable conclusion that too many writers have their heads in the sand. Are are just dumb, to be painfully blunt.

Millions (Ok. so maybe, just maybe, that is an exaggeration, but given the number of posts I personally have read on my few writers' loops, perhaps not) of writers are pondering, arguing, debating the issues of plagiarism, and the trickle down legal theories of copyright and copyright infringement.

Sadly, no one seems to have a clue. Not as to what they are, or even the fact that the two concepts are not just some quaint publishing tradition or practice, but that they are legal terms with very complex legal definitions.

If I write another response to an email post that says well, it wasn't so bad; after all, she didn't steal from another romance writer....or it's unfair because she stole from someone who makes a career and money off of their non-fiction books (?) .... or what are we supposed to do if we can't research?

Since when did research mean lift huge chunks of someone else's writing on a subject that you want to include in your book, plunk it into your writing and neglect to tell anyone that, whoops, no, you didn't really think I wrote that, did you, that's just research?

OK. Granted, I work at a law firm where we do publishing. But I knew a shitload more about this stuff even before I did. Because, well, it mattered to me as a writer to know WHAT THE FUCK I was getting myself into, business-wise.

If you DON'T know that plagiarism is not stealing ideas, or a plot, or a title, or a character's name (and if you try to steal Luke Skyewalker, Harry Potter, Glinda the Good Witch or Scarlett O'Hara, it just goes to show you're as dumb as a box of rocks, anyway). You can only steal an individual's expression of her ideas, or her expressed execution of her plot. And changing a few words won't mean you're not stealing. The law (surprise, surprise) isn't that easy to get around.

And as for copyright. You have a copyright when you write something. You can file with the copyright office and protect yourself further. You will always have the copyright in your book until you've been dead for 70 years and then who gives a rat's ass anyway. When they said "you can't take it with you", they meant copyrights too. Your publisher never owns your book. They own specific, pre-agreed upon rights in and to your book for a specific time frame and purposes that are outlined in the contract. Did you read it? Did you UNDERSTAND it? Bet you signed it anyway, didn't you, you dolt!

Get an agent. Get a laywer. Get a brain.

If you don't know what you're doing you are as bad as a car mechanic who doesn't know his ass from his exhaust pipe. And you wouldn't pay him, would you?

Writers study their craft (and it sounds just as bad as when actors say it) and they worry, endlessly, ceaselessly, about facts and details, comma placement, point of view, conflict, dialogue, storyboarding. But do they worry about copyright infringement or plagiarism? Apparently not.

And an awful lot of them don't seem to worry about marketing techniques, promotional tools, royalty calculations, business plans, or branding, either. They do worry about MySpace (how many friends do I have?), Blogging (today I'm going to post pictures and chat about my cat/dog/horse/birds/house/kids/DH) or website (ain't it purty?).

We're in a business, folks. Get with the program. Learn what you need to know. And then learn that. Learn about the law as it relates to writers and publishing. Know what you own, because if you don't how can you know what you are selling? Know how you are percieved (and Ms. Edwards' response that she didn't know she was supposed to credit someone when plopping chunks of their writing into her books and letting everyone assume she wrote it is stupid for three reasons: 1. She didn't apparently know that it was stealing; 2. She didn't know that giving someone credit for something that you stole doesn't absolve you of the theft; and 3. She didn't know that it was crappy reading! (The ultimate sin - according to most posts, the worst part of it was that what she stole was dull.)because perception can make or break you. Even if you're good (or BAD) at what you do. Just look at politics.

And if you have no problem with stealing, as long as it doesn't cost someone else money? If you don't have a problem stealing from an author who sweat the same blood and tears (or, rather, apparently more, since they didn't get lazy and steal from someone else) as long as they aren't a competitor of yours, well, maybe the legal definition of plagiarism isn't your biggest problem.

Maybe the definition of "ethical" is.

Go ahead. Look it up. I dare you.