Annals of Capitalism

I noted with some interest the recent item in the Times about Kaavya Viswanathan, the Harvard undergrad who's already published a novel - part of a two-book, $500,000 deal that oughta cover her tuition bills all the way through grad school. Or her legal fees: seems Ms. Viswanathan may have plagiarized chunks of her book. (See the article for sample passages.)

Or maybe she didn't plagiarize. Tom Tomorrow presents evidence that the novel may have been put together by a "book packager," which he helpfully describes (quoting some online research):

Packagers are also known for producing series books. Quite often, a successful series will become a “fill-in-the-blanks” exercise, wherein talented writers and artists can easily continue the series. In these cases, publishing houses may develop an outline, then pass it over to a packager to bring it to completed project. The packager then sends the outline to a commissioned author. Once complete, the packager delivers the final product to the publisher in print-ready condition. Occasionally, they even handle the printing.

Tomorrow continues with a juicy quote from the Harvard Crimson:

Viswanathan worked with a book packaging company—17th Street Productions, which is owned by Alloy Entertainment—in the development of “Opal Mehta.” Alloy Entertainment and Viswanathan own the copyright to the novel, and Variety reported in February that Alloy Entertainment, along with Contrafilm, is slated to produce the film adaptation. The rights to the novel were purchased that month by DreamWorks.

"As has been previously reported, we helped Kaavya conceptualize and plot the book," Leslie Morgenstein, the president of Alloy Entertainment, wrote in an e-mail today. "We are looking into the serious allegations detailed in the Crimson before commenting further."

Now, getting some help "conceptualizing and plotting" a book is a pretty sweet deal - up until you get caught. But even then, with a fat advance in your pocket and a movie in the offing...

This kind of stuff chaps my hide. Not only is there the crassness of a half-million dollar payment to a freaking 17-year old (let's keep the teenage millionaires in the NBA, please), but there's the seaminess of the "book packaging" industry in which every phase of a book's "writing" becomes a commodity - including finding a pretty, young "author."

On top of my impotent rage at the grinding machinery of capitalism, there's my mounting frustration with the difficulty of trying, trying to teach college students about proper sourcing and documentation and about how plagiarism harms intellectual development, from mature reflection on the ethics of borrowing to the hard work of actually acquiring solid writing and critical-thinking skills. What's the flipping use? I give up. I'm going to crib as much as I can from the Collected New Yorker and piece together a good first novel tonight. The cartoons are going to be great.