Grand Theft, Intellectual Property, Part 6

If you've been following my blog, or if you've ever talked with me, you know that my essay, IF MY BODY WERE A CAR, has been a thorn in my side for over three years. When I first began writing decades ago, my goal was to write something that would touch some reader's heart so much that they would clip out my words and hang them on their refrigerator door to re-read and appreciate again. I know it's corny, but that was my goal. And I completely forgot the lesson I had learned from from a thousand Twilight Zone episodes, "Be careful what you wish for."

I wanted someone to love something I wrote and someone did. A lot of people did. Evidently, they laughed at IF MY BODY WERE A CAR and then they shared it with everyone they knew. Via email. Hell, even my friends have received this essay in emails, which always makes them laugh as they Forward it on to me and tease me about the viral spreading of my words. And that's all well and good. Laugh at my essay, I want you to. I want you to laugh and enjoy my words. Save them. Tape them to your refrigerator. Order a shirt with the essay on it. Just don't publish the essay. Don't print it in your newspaper or magazine or newsletter or bulletin and don't upload it to your website or blog.

It's a message I have repeated a hundred times over the past few years, and if you don't know this story, you can read about it at Grand Theft, Intellectual Property, Part 1, 2, 3, 4 and 5. I have fought diligently to stop the infringements and have even posted my copyright online, exposing my personal contact information in an attempt to stop people from publishing my essay.

And still the infringements continue. The latest offense is a southwestern newspaper. The words Free Press are in the title and I guess that refers to what they pay writers. Yes, they published IF MY BODY WERE A CAR, and yes, I asked my literary agent to send them an invoice for $750. After all, they do sell ads in their paper. And when they received the invoice and became aware that someone owned that essay (because a newspaper editor knows nothing about copyrights???), she called Ms Taylor-Smith to inform her we were being reported to the FBI. For investigation.

I wonder how that conversation went...."Hello, I committed copyright infringement and now the author is asking to be paid and if she isn't, she might sue me. Is this a crime?"

Nope, it's not.

And then the newspaper editor continued to say that she knew more than one person has received an invoice for IF MY BODY WERE A CAR.

Yeah, they have. And those other persons have published my essay without permission.

I have a right to be paid for my work. I do. And what good is a copyright if you don't defend it?

And why can't the editors/webmasters/publishers ever just write me/email me/telephone me to say, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have published your work. I should have checked for the copyright. Can we talk discuss a payment that if agreeable to both of us?"

No one does, though, because NO PAYMENT is agreeable to those people who used my work. They want to print stuff for free, then sell ads or subscriptions or products. It's a great way to increase their profit.

And if the publishers/editors/webmasters used half the energy to find copyright registrations as they do to post things about me on the Internet or call the FBI, they would not be in this boat. And neither would I.

This newspaper, the Free Press one, isn't the only new thorn in my side. Because one thing always leads to another, someone has published my essay in a book. With their name as the author of the book. And a copyright notice on their book. They are selling this book. And presumably, profiting from the sale.

The book with my essay in it. The essay that I refused to sell to another book publisher last year. The essay that belongs in The Twilight Zone. The essay that will outlive me. The essay that will someday bear the byline, Written by Anonymous.

I never wished for that.

c2009 Linda S Amstutz