A Romantic Example of Plagiarism
Recent news stories have reported accusations that yet another big-selling author inappropriately borrowed passages from other works. Cassie Edwards, a prolific romance novelist, is under fire after a romance readers' blog displayed selections of her books side-by-side with selections from other sources. (Here's the post that opened the debate.) The comparisons leave viewers with the distinct opinion that some entire sections of Edwards's books are nothing more than uncredited, albeit cleverly reorganized, montages.
Perhaps Edwards ought to bill herself "editor" rather than "author."
More astonishing than the implication of impropriety is Edwards's response. According to an AP article by Hillel Italie,
Edwards...acknowledged that she sometimes "takes" her material "from reference books," but added that she didn't know she was supposed to credit her sources.
"When you write historical romances, you're not asked to do that," Edwards said.
Really? The rules are different as long as one is writing historical fiction/romance?
Does anyone fall for this reasoning? What writer alive--particularly one who has been published umpteen times and doubtless signed contract clauses warning against such lapses--doesn't know that borrowing without attribution is not permissible?
While they fall along a very broad spectrum, the conclusions I find myself drawing about a writer who plagiarizes are never positive. At best, the writer is woefully ignorant of the entire body of knowledge surrounding intellectual property. Even schoolchildren are taught how NOT to plagiarize; it is inexcusable for an informed adult who makes a living writing to have not the vaguest notion of the issue. At the other end of the spectrum is the conclusion that the writer in question is nothing more than a thief, having knowingly stolen another's material on the arrogant assumption that no one will ever find out.
Paul Tolme, a scientist and wildlife writer who found himself one of Edwards's unwitting contributors, is more gracious in his assessment. While no one would wish to be plagiarized, he admits he feels less anger than pity over the lack of literary invention that led Edwards to turn his nature writing into "bad dialogue. It stands out as clunky and awkward." (Tolme's words, by contrast, flow smoothly. He reveals a talent for wry, even absurdist humor in the article in which he addresses the Edwards case. It's well worth reading: Move Over, 'Meerkat Manor'.)
Ms. Edwards's transgression goes far beyond a few overlooked attributions; she crosses the line into outright plagiarism. The quoted passages reveal that she borrowed concepts. But they also show very little variation in vocabulary, organization, and syntax from the originals. Recasting the verbiage is no less necessary a step than including a list of references. Of course, doing it correctly takes a little work. If she felt proper citation would be prohibitively time-consuming to do while cranking books out at the rate she is accustomed (100 books in approximately 25 years)--well, that's what good writing assistants are for. It is doubtful anyone would have batted an eye over that kind of assistance. Instead, this recent exposure is likely to leave an indelible mark on her credibility.