I have been thinking about this almost all evening and still haven’t decided.
Note: To avoid colleagues finding my blog in case they do a bit of Googling, I will not name the author and the title here, but you – that’s if you’re familiar with the romance community – can figure out who it is. Easily.
Earlier today I found a romantic western historical novel left on a train. I was amused because I read this book years ago when I was in my early teens. When I remembered how I enjoyed it, I wondered if the passage of time made me forget if this book had these so-called ‘old skool’ traits. Such as rape, violence and so on. I couldn’t remember so I decided to read it for a laugh.
It was surprisingly good and, considering it was published in 1982, timeless. Many beloved historical and contemporary romance novels published during that time don’t stand up well today (I’m thinking of those like Linda Howard’s After the Night). Furthermore, in many ways, it’s a lot progressive than many historical romance novels published today.
The hero did rape heroine, but immediately afterwards, he knew it was wrong. Meanwhile the heroine reacted accordingly, utterly repulsed by what he did and she rejected his apology and actions to redeem himself. She later noted that (note: she was referring to a fact she threatened to leave him while knowing it was his deepest fear as his mother walked out on him and his father when he was a child):
[heroine] wasn’t so generous that she believed it had given him the right to rape her. It was merely an acceptance that a portion of the fault was hers-only a portion.
They didn’t get together sexually that quickly, either. He promised to keep his hands off her and he did. And I think it lasted roughly two months, bearing in mind they were together almost 24/7 during a cattle drive.
I have to say, though, the hero is a jerk. Easily jealous, uncommunicative, high-handed and at times, irrationally unreasonable. He can be so bull-headed, too. Many times, he richly deserved a punch in the face. To be fair, the heroine did punch him in the face when he went too far. I think the heroine’s unwillingness to accept all his flaws as the norm – which the hero eventually acknowledged and accepted – makes him bearable. Luckily, the story revolves mostly around the heroine, which helped.
Having said that, he does have interesting qualities, such as having a clear-cut idea of what’s right and wrong, and that doesn’t make him immune to being subjected to his judgement. He owns up when he’s in the wrong. Here is a bit about him I like (this takes place just after they consummated on their wedding night):
Something in his remark prompted [Heroine] to remember the advice given to her by that sporting lady, Pearl Rogers. It started a whole chain of thoughts.
“[Hero]?” Her hand made an absent exploration into the curling hair on his chest. “Have you had … sex with many women?”
“What’s this?” There was a smile in his voice. “An investigation into my sordid past?”
“Have you?” [Heroine] persisted.
“I’ve known some women in my time,” he admitted.
“What kind?” she asked.
“I don’t see that it makes any difference.” He attempted to avoid the question. “You’re my wife now. My woman.”
“But these women, were they respectable?” She had to know if he was comparing her to the right kind of women.
“I respected them,” he stated. “That’s all you need to know.”
He respected them! If only all other heroes share his view. As far as I can remember, he used this word ‘whore’ only twice in the entire 370-page story. Both were to his mother, but he’ll find this thrown back to his face. Considering his mother’s desertion, which deeply damaged his father and ultimately himself, he doesn’t hold women in contempt.
At least he has the brain to figure out that one woman’s actions don’t mean all women would do the same. I honestly don’t understand why some authors think it’s perfectly all right to make their heroes misogynists, such as calling all women ‘whores’ and like so. I mean, have you ever come across a hero that hates all men because of what his father did?
Another nice surprise: the hero’s mother. She was sixteen when she gave birth to Hero and she didn’t like the harsh life of being a cattle rancher’s wife, so she ran away with an English nobleman when hero was three years old. Even before she left him, she hated the pregnancy and after giving birth, left the child-rearing to her husband who adored the son. She acknowledged, though, that it was a case of her versus her husband where the child was concerned. If she took the child, the father would “tear the world apart” to get him back so she left the child behind and did so without regret. She since became the nobleman’s wife after lying to him that her husband and son ‘died in an accident’. She also gave herself a new name and background to erase her past.
She had never attempted to get in touch with her first husband and her son, even though she knew her first husband never gave up waiting for her. He’d welcome her back if she wanted to return. As I said before, she had no maternal feelings towards her son, as stated to Heroine during a little confrontation towards the end:
“I don’t believe you understand the situation.” [Mother] gathered herself to stand a little taller. “With my money and influence, I can make [Hero] a powerful man in this territory.”
“I have no doubt that you can,” [Heroine] admitted. “But I don’t think that’s what he wants from you.”
“You are obviously implying that it’s a mother he wants. Since we are being candid, I will freely admit to you as I have to him that I don’t regret leaving him. The maternal instinct that is supposed to be so strong in women has eluded me. I can’t be what I never was.” There was no apology in her statement.
And yet, in this story, she was never portrayed as a villain. She was a woman who married and had a child too young. She was ambitious, driven and quite clever. Right or wrong, she knew her flaws and strengths, and made most of them in order to achieve her dreams. She knew her son hated her guts and she was right, but even so:
“I don’t know why you’re here, but you can get the hell out!” His low-pitched voice vibrated with the effort to contain his wrath. “Go back to your fancy lords and ladies. You aren’t wanted here.”
“I haven’t come to beg your forgiveness,” she replied with a trace of amusement. “I don’t regret running away from your father and leaving you. When I left Texas with Con Dunshill, I never once looked back.”
“Do you think I give a damn?” [Hero] challenged thickly. “I am not my father. You walked out of my life and you can stay out.”
Her dark gaze studied him unmoved by his bitter hatred of her. “You aren’t like your father,” she agreed. “I knew that when I saw you in Dodge City. You are like me, [Hero]. Just like me.”
“You’re an adulterous, scheming bitch. You don’t even have the scruples of a whore.” Contempt and derision twisted his features as he spat the accusations at her.
“And you are ruthless, ambitious, and intelligent all the things you claim I am. In a man, they are qualities to be admired,” she reasoned. “But if a woman possesses them, she is a scheming, gold-digging bitch. I plead guilty to all three. What now, [Hero]? Aren’t you just a little bit curious why I’m here after all this time?”
Here’s what surprised me: she did, in the end, become one of Hero’s closest friends. She would never be – and wasn’t – a mother to him, but she can be – and was – a good friend. And I like that. Probably because I could relate to that.
My mum was too ill-equipped and immature to be a mother (she was fifteen when she had me), but she was an excellent friend. One of my best friends, in fact. Although she was never a proper mother to me, she was an excellent mother to my awesome half-siblings, thanks to time and my step-dad. So, I was truly pleased to see that this character wasn’t thoroughly demonised for a change.
Stock characters that are routinely paper-cut stereotypes in most romance novels weren’t in this novel. No one was thoroughly demonised, either. Not even the baddies. Even so, there is a heavy hint that Hero and his men administrated justice in form of hanging a baddie who, by proxy, killed his toddler son.
There are other elements that people today wouldn’t consider this novel as a ‘western historical romance’ – death of a child (even though I could predict his death miles away; it was because of his name!), the ups and downs of a marriage (hero and heroine’s), hero and heroine are equally flawed, and the passage of time itself as the story spans four years.
When I finished reading this book, not only I was surprised as how contemporary it was, I realised this is exactly what one of our clients has been looking for. An epic drama of a couple struggling against hardships and feuds, along with a dose of romance; set against the grittiness of the Old West. And it has a few spots of dry and wry humour, mostly through dialogue. The client wants something like Giant, but with a focus on Montana, due to liking what Montana Film Commission has to offer (read: tax relief), and a ‘road movie’. The client found two locations that would be perfect, but time is running out. A major land developer wants one location with an abandoned (but still beautiful) mansion and its out-buildings demolished to make way for a new township in 2013 or 2014. Time isn’t on the client’s side, so finding this book is a happy coincidence.
I should point out I rarely if ever trawl the Romance genre for our clients because a) clients have no interest in this genre [because], b) a history of theatrical adaptations tells us that there is virtually no money in it, and c) as a whole, films based on romance novels (with HEA) are notoriously difficult to sell. In fact, the only way to sell it, in most cases, is attach a big name to it. And big names generally don’t like Romance, because this film genre is usually seen as a home ground of B-list stars, TV actors and has-beens. I should also point out that I rarely have anything to do with all things American, so this is a rarity for me. Anyway.
This book has enough external conflicts and drama to win the client over. It’s almost like Giant, but without the conflict in form of James Dean’s character. It has other factors that we know the client will love. Namely, the heroine. The story opens with the hero, but the story belongs to the heroine. Plus, she’s 16 at the start of the story and 20 in the end, which is what the client’s brief requires. (I was told the client is looking for a vehicle to showcase his actress daughter, who’s apparently nineteen. And no, I don’t know who she is as the client’s name is off-limits to me, which is the norm in my job. Feh. Born a minion, always a minion, I suppose.)
The dilemma? The author.
She was caught plagiarising a fellow romance author’s two romantic suspense novels for her novel. Pretty much everyone knew the author didn’t like writing single title “glamour” romance novels. She was quite bad at it, in fact. She was better at writing category romances and epic western romances. It was easy to tell this was where she was happiest. She was thoroughly passionate about the US, especially men and women who struggled against hardships while realising their dreams of making the US the Greatest Country in the World. It still doesn’t excuse her actions, though; mostly because she was in a fortunate position to reject demands to follow a trend (romantic suspense and ‘glamour’ contemporary were very much a trend at the time). She could choose to reject to focus on what she was good at, but she didn’t. Her bad decision was her fault, not one else’s. Some had said her husband pushed her to do it, but it was still her choice.
Having said that, how the Romance genre community treated her so far makes me feel uncomfortable.
I mean, I can’t even bring myself to read Anne Perry’s books. I think most are aware of her past – she was tried and convicted for killing her friend’s mother. I do believe every almost every person has a right to live life without contempt if they served full prison sentences, but what icks me is the fact she writes murder mystery novels. It’s akin to have a convicted rapist penning a romance novel. I just don’t understand why, if she wants to be a novelist, it has to be murder mystery.
Quite a few readers found my view unjust and unfair. They said she served her time so she can do whatever she wants. And that includes writing crime novels. “Besides it happened over thirty years ago. Time to move on.” OK, fair enough.
That brings us to this: what about plagiarists? When it’s “time to move on”? They are rarely jailed for what they did. Plagiarism exists in music, but bands and songwriters are forgiven and allowed to move on with new works. Same with authors of non romance works. Fuck, Shakespeare is still worshipped and adored. So, when does a romance novelist allow to return? Or is it for life?
The scandal happened fifteen years ago and this author’s name is still a no-go in the Romance genre. If you mention her name, you get a look of disapproval. In spite of what she did, she was still very much part of the Romance genre history. She virtually changed the face of the genre to the media at one time. How some tried to erase her from the history of the Romance genre is really odd and bizarre. And ugly. I don’t like history revisionists, can you tell?
I mean, it’s one thing not to buy books from – or not to trust – a known plagiarist, but it’s another thing to erase her role from history.
I’m jumping all over the place, addressing different issues. Sorry!
Going back to the dilemma: there’s no doubt that if the client liked this book and went ahead with the adaptation, film viewers will buy copies of this book. And if they like the book, they will try her other books including those two guilty books. Plus, I’m not even sure if this book hasn’t any plagiarised text. Unfair? Not necessarily.
Experiences tell me that plagiarism is rarely an one-off thing with those who plagiarise. Usually – if they were caught for plagiarising, there will be more to be found in their earlier works. When this author were caught, her two novels – both written during late 1990s – were cited as proof of her guilt, which had her agreeing to a settlement for the injured party. According to the injured party, this author had been plagiarising her works for “seven years” (I don’t know how she knew this, but that’s what she says in her official statement.) As far as I know, no one had investigated her earlier works including this book.
I’m quite sure this novel is original because her writing style changed much later. But even if it’s original, I can’t quite bring myself to bring the book to our client because the author’s a known plagiarist. I have to admit to selfishness: I’m not sure if I’m willing to risk my career and reputation on a potentially problematic romance novel. No client likes to be embarrassed and they never forget. I’m wondering if it’s unfair of me.
According to my mental book database, there is no other historical romance that’s similar to this one and that’s what makes it so bloody frustrating. Go ahead with it or not? I’m wondering if it’s a good compromise if I put in a note that this author is a known plagiarist?
This way, the client can decide to risk it or not, instead of pinning me to a wall with a poisoned arrow for failing to find a book like this one in time, or the fact the author is a word nicker. Hm, yeah, I think I’ll go with that – a note in the coverage and hope for the best, even though I know some in the romance genre community will loathe my guts for acknowledging this author’s erased existence.
Thanks for listening
A dilemma indeed. I don’t have an answer, but I’m a bit conflicted now because I love that second quote you posted, but I’d prefer not read this author’s work because I don’t believe she acquitted herself well during the plagiarism scandal.
you do have a problem; I think I would suggest the book but with the proviso that the author was charged on later books. As for the author in question I have 4 of her books on my keeper shelves.
I agree with what you ultimately decided on: To bring the book to the client’s attention, making note that there is plagiarism history. Then it’s not up to you to police this book, or that author.
I think bringing the plagiarism to your client’s attention lets you off the hook. They can decide whether or not to risk it.
I read Anne Perry’s mysteries long before I found out she was a murderer. The early ones are rather good. I haven’t read her most recent work, though. I’m pretty sure I continued to read her books after I knew about the murder conviction.
It’s a tough one. It would probably annoy me to give this author such an opportunity, but I agree with the rest that what you decided is the way to go. Your duty is to your client to find them the best story possible for their project.
Like Sarah, I started reading Perry before I found out about her past (pre-internet, actually). I probably wouldn’t have picked up one of her books had I known, but I really like them, and have kept reading them. Yes, they’re mysteries, but I’ve found that she’s an author who usually really concentrates on making the victims come alive. In many mysteries I get the feeling the victim is just there to create a puzzle for the detectives to solve, but with Perry, I’ve often ended up in tears because she really makes you feel the tragedy that this person, with all their dreams and ideas and history, has been killed.
I loathe plagiarism. An adult committed plagiarism. She took somebody else’s work (in great chunks) and claimed them as her own. I used to enjoy her books and, as with Cassie Edwards, I now want to grab them off the bookshelf and jump on them.
Anne Perry committed her crime as a teenager and I would be more willing to defend her on those grounds. However, I would never buy a book she had written because it is just tacky that a murderer writes about murder.
Thanks to all for supporting the solution. I went with it. I didn’t realise until I researched on this particular strand that there was actually a lawsuit, which was cited in my note. I also included an excerpt of the injured party’s statement to AAR:
“The earliest known instance of plagiarism was, if memory serves, with Aspen Gold, the last was Notorious. In none of the known cases was the copying one or two phrases. It was, particularly in the case of Notorious, several entire scenes and passages. It was not an isolated case, but a chronic one, spanning years and involving 13 of my books.”
My gut feeling on how will the client react to this coverage? Chuck it out of a window.
@SarahT, @Rosario and @Wendy
I still can’t and won’t buy – let alone read – a book by Anne Perry because, like @Wendy says, “it is just tacky that a murderer writes about murder.” It IS tacky and it IS insensitive. Not just towards the victim’s family, but also towards her own family who are apparently still struggling to deal with the effects of the crime.
I think I’d not mind so much if the murder wasn’t premediated, but it was. And the act itself was horrific, even for me. The girls might be sixteen, but the victim was the girl’s mother, for goodness sake. The very idea of killing my mother was unthinkable, even during my worst teen angst moment. If I remember right, the locals used to say she referred the murder as “the accident” and “a silly childish mistake”. This is probably what made me go against her since.
Unfair, true, but as a teen at the time, I felt it was horrid to classify it as an accident or mistake. I think this feeling remains since. In fairness, some locals liked her and found her quiet and polite, but this is not a surprise, really. Nice people do kill.
When people say we shouldn’t let writers’ real lives affect our enjoyment of their books, I cannot help but think: “Oh, really? I take it that you would read a murder novel by Charles Manson or a children’s book by a known child molester, then? Or even watch a Mel Gibson film?”
I acknowledge I’m blinded by emotions. I’d have gone completely ballistic if my sister’s abductor make a living from writing stories about child-related crimes. I can’t deny how the very concept enrages me. Playing with people’s lives in paper is very different from playing with people’s lives in real life. This is probably why I feel for the families on both sides in this case.
@Rosario
“she really makes you feel the tragedy that this person, with all their dreams and ideas and history, has been killed.”
That makes it worse, doesn’t it? If she’s that sensitive, then she should be sensitive enough to realise that her writing isn’t fair to the families. She doesn’t need to make money as it’s common knowledge that she’s well off (she lives in one of wealthiest houses in Easter Ross, for instance). But hey, a need to “explore” her psyche is much more important. Of course.
I do want to make it clear I don’t have a problem with readers liking her books. I’m totally against imposing my preferences on other readers and theirs on mine. I hope this makes sense. Thanks!
Edited: It’s so long. sorry!