Thursday, September 1, 2011
Monday, August 29, 2011
Sweet Sacrifice: Ethics and E-Publishing
With more and more authors doing their own book covers these days, problems are bound to occur because we're all drawing upon the same pile of stock imagery. Here's the dilemma in a nutshell: two ladies fell in love with the same photo, and decided to use it as the focal point of their composition. Had they not known each other, it’s a moot point. One person using a stock image doesn’t preclude the other from using it. That’s the risk that comes with using stock; authors are free to rip off your idea at will, and it happens all the time. Just go to the Kindle store and look at all the similar works with nearly identical covers.
But what if these two people do know each other, and even worse, are friends? To avoid any hard feelings, let's say their names are Sally and Brenda (not their real names). After digging through the stock archives for days, Sally stumbles across the perfect image, incorporates it into her design, and slaps it on her e-book. After showing it to her friend Brenda, she also falls in love with it, and decides to use it as well. Brenda changes a few elements, but says nothing about it until just before releasing her own book, and lucks out when her friend Sally does not see it on her blog. So far, so good.
Trouble is, Sally eventually does see it, on the morning of Brenda’s release no less, and nearly spits out her coffee. The resemblance is striking; feelings of betrayal and disgust surface, and are almost too much to bear. "I thought she was my friend." She wipes away the tears.
Legally, no laws have been broken, and although it may cost Sally and Brenda their friendship, both are welcome to rip off each other’s ideas as often as they like. Fair game.
But what if that friend also happens to be your publicist? That's right, the one in charge of running your blog tour. The one promoting you and hoping for a little self-promotion in return. Can you begin to imagine the conflict of interest that this represents? Forget about Hurricane Irene, that's what descended upon the writers' group this weekend. Apparently her publicist gushed over the cover several times, so in a way it wasn't surprising when the love interest from Sally’s cover emerged on Brenda’s.
And that's where I draw the line.
It's not OK for a promoter to create a book cover using identical stock imagery as their client, unless there is an agreement in place beforehand (or unless they want to commit professional suicide as my friend aptly put it). If you don't want the same thing done to you, then don't do it to someone else, especially those close to you. Since there is already a business relationship in place, the publicist should not engage in any practice that marginalizes their client.
"Borrowing" ideas can still land one in legal trouble, though. The base image that anchors the cover is only the starting point. Over the course of designing a cover, the image will most likely be cropped, have filters applied to it, have the brightness and contrast tweaked, etc. Any author is free to crop the image in the same fashion, apply the same filters, and so on; but if they're going to play this game, they had better know what they're doing. They still must build upon the original photo; they cannot use the enhanced image that another author has already tweaked if they have access to it. Otherwise, they will leave themselves open to a world of hurt, and not to mention, bad publicity.
As the story goes, Brenda eventually did change her cover, which could have been avoided if she had simply communicated with her client. Perhaps Sally would have agreed to let her use it, perhaps not. Either way, Brenda would have been better off if she had talked to her. Sadly, I know them both, and think that deep down inside Brenda means well. It's just too bad it all came to this.
One thing that can't be ignored is the gold rush mentality that is sweeping through the industry. Amateurs and professionals alike are churning out as much content as they can that is often poorly conceived, edited, or may very well "borrow" far more than just the face of an author's book. Unfortunately I think we're in for more of this, not less.
I truly hope fellow authors think before they act, because it’s their reputation at stake. Potential customers will fall off like the plague if a work is plagiarized or of low quality. And don't think for a moment that all of those fake 5-star reviews from your friends will help one bit (just ask Jacqueline Howett). Customers are savvy, and can spot a bogus review from miles away.
Ok, I've said my piece, now it's your turn. Please don't ask for the real names of the people involved; I will not disclose them.
Sunday, August 28, 2011
The Canterbury Coven - Chapter 1: Delilah
‘Twas an accident, I must confess. Not sure where to begin, so I will just jump in. I caught her spying me through the window that eve as I poured over edits of The Canterbury Chronicle. As I hurried to bolt the door, the pale shadow slipped inside, combing her blonde locks with her fingers.
“Do not be frightened, kind sir. I am an admirer,” she murmured, making sure I could see her fangs. “Pity I have savored your work from afar, pondering every word, every subtle turn of phrase. No longer.” She advanced me. “Is that tomorrow’s edition?”
“Yes.” I steadied my trembling hands.
“Good. I have a story for you. The wisdom of an old, enlightened soul,” she mused.
“Very well.” I backed into my desk. “Who would you like me to interview?”
“Myself, of course.” She lifted her crimson dress, and eased into the chair.
“Right.” I lumbered around the desk, and plopped down in my padded armchair. “Well then, tell me about yourself.” I grabbed a quill.
“Hopefully you will not ask my age,” she smiled, her gold eyes sparkling.
“How about your name?”
“There have been many over the years: Evaline, Saffrey, Marion, bitch, hag, slut…but you may call me Delilah.”
“So, Deliliah-”
“Your eyes do not deceive you.” She cut in. “I am a vampire. For the past month I have lived among you, but I am not the only, nor the eldest.”
Icy beads of sweat trickled down my spine. “There are more?”
“Ask yourself, Mr. Bundt: is it a coincidence that The Chronicle is an evening paper?”
“It is my paper. I do with it as I please,” I balked.
“Then why not a morning paper?” The vampire eyed me curiously. “How did you arrive at this?”
“We conducted a survey, asking subscribers which they preferred.”
“And?” Delilah crossed her arms.
“Overwhelmingly they prefer an evening paper, but that’s besides the point. I myself prefer an afternoon deadline so that I do not stay up all night.”
“Yet despite such deadlines, you still find yourself laboring through the night. This I know. I have been watching you the past several moons,” she scoffed at me.
“So you have come to Canterbury to prove the conspiracy of the evening post?” I set down my quill.
“I am here to offer names, and in addition, my story,” she replied.
“I cannot afford to become the target of some secret society that does not wish to be exposed. If they do exist, they will come for you as well.”
“One can only hope,” Delilah grinned.
“Not another word.” I stood. “A pleasure meeting you, Delilah, but I am better off entertaining the notion that there are no vampires living in Canterbury, even if they do in fact exist. Good evening.” I nodded.
In the blink of an eye, she jumped across the desk and seized my neck. “As if you have a choice in the matter,” she sneered. “Do not make me stain my dress. I have grown quite fond of her. Tell me, Edgar, how is your darling Maggie? I am told she has a birthday in the coming days. I will craft her a gift that she never forgets.”
“You wretched whore,” I choked.
“Please, call me Delilah.”
Saturday, August 27, 2011
Sunday, August 21, 2011
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