OUT OF THE CLUTTER OF A WRITER'S MIND: Is The Shoreline Beacon Not Interested In The Truth? Or, Have I Mentioned Before How Much I Dislike Being Ignored?

I was reading a friend's blog post a few weeks ago; the subject was one that struck a nerve with me... "giving credit where credit is due".

My friend Katherine Martinko, over at "Feisty Red Hair" on Wordpress, had written a story for a local paper, one which has a print and online presence... The Shoreline Beacon.  The paper printed her story but failed to give proper credit.  In fact, they didn't give credit at all and when asked why, the paper's response was basically that their policy was not to give credit for guest submissions.  The individual at the paper suggested that if one wanted credit, they had to ask for it.  Katherine's response to the paper was kinder than mine would have been.  Mine would probably go something like this....

"Are you kidding me?  Ask for it?  Seriously? (My voice would be dripping with sarcasm and have more than just an edge of anger at this point)  I shouldn't have to 'ask'... it's my story... you printed it... you give credit where it is due!  Isso é um conceito muito difícil para você compreender?"

At this point, I would probably be hearing a dial tone in my ear, not because the person on the other end of the line didn't understand Portuguese, but because that is a fairly common reaction to an angry caller.

I expressed my outrage over the paper's actions with my friend and told her that I was going to write a letter to the editor!  I'm getting a little worked up, in case you couldn't tell.  So...

Armed with Bella and a big mug of freshly brewed Costa Rica Tarrazu, I settled myself in my sanctum sanctorum and began.  And then stopped... resumed... stopped again... picked up where I left off... yeah, this was in the middle of the holidays and if there had been four of me, it would not have been enough, what with everything going on.

Regrettably, my 'fiery' letter to the editor got shuffled, bumped and knocked about for the next couple of weeks until things had settled down from the holidays and I got a couple of deadlines out of the way.  Writing isn't all fun and games, you know... deadlines and commitments... school... work... got a wife in there somewhere, who, like fruit on a vine, needs a bit of attention and tending now and again.

The calendar read 15 January when I finally submitted my letter to the newspaper.  "Thank you for your submission... we'll get back to you shortly." was the automated response I got after clicking the 'submit'  button (does anyone else see the irony in labeling the button as such?)

Guess what?  The person at Shoreline Beacon who read my letter was so impressed, they rang me right up and said they wanted to print my letter, with my byline, on the front page of their next edition!

Oh, wait... that's not what happened.  What happened is that for the next ten days, I checked my email several times a day, waiting for a response... any response.  Hell, by the time day 10 rolled around, I would have been happy with a terse "Don't write to us again, you whack job!"  Did I get even that?

Nope!

I may be channeling Alex from Fatal Attraction at this point... I don't like being ignored.  So, I've decided to post my letter to the Shoreline Beacon here on my blog... and on my Wordpress blog... probably get over to LiveJournal as well... and I don't want to forget Facebook, do I?

Okay, enough rambling... ranting... raving... whatever you want to call it... here is the letter I sent to Shoreline Beacon.  Please feel free to drop me a line... tell me what you think... share on your blog if you wish.

~~**~~

Mesdames et Messieurs –

It has recently come to my attention that the Shoreline Beacon has a standing policy of not attributing authorship of articles submitted by the public, unless the submitting party requests, in advance, to have their name included in the printed article.  I should note that this caveat is not mentioned on the paper’s website submissions page.  I am not a legal expert, but it seems to me that absent a clearly defined, and available to the public, policy stating the paper’s terms with regard to guest submissions, you are treading on very thin ice indeed, from both a legal and an ethical viewpoint.

As a writer, I find your policy particularly troubling.  Writers live and die by their words.  Just as writing is in our souls, so is our souls in our writing… laid bare to the scrutiny of others.  And we can be fiercely protective of our work.  It appalls me that a newspaper’s ‘standard practice’ is not to give credit unless asked for.  Credit for one’s own words should automatically be given.  Only if a person requests the paper not use their name, should you consider not using it.        

When an individual reads an article in your paper… in any paper or periodical, for that matter… there is an assumption that the words, and the thoughts behind those words, are those of the person whose name appears with a story.  When there is no byline present, it is assumed that the story was written by someone on the newspaper’s staff.  This is a logical assumption.  By your very ‘silence’ on the subject, the paper is implying that the words of any ‘un-bylined’ article are its own, and your readers will have credited such as well.  We take it personally, when to all outward appearances, we see others taking credit for what we have written.

When you print a piece submitted by a private citizen and do not acknowledge the authorship, you are, for all intents and purposes, taking credit for that person’s work.  I am certain such has never been the paper’s intent, but you must appreciate how it appears.  To many, perception is reality.  To be perfectly blunt, and to use that dreaded word… your current practice has a whiff of plagiarism. 

There was a time when the field of journalism was one of honour and integrity.  Newspapers were once held in high esteem and could be counted on to provide to their readers, the truth.  Are those days gone?  Have we sacrificed an ideal for expediency and the pursuit of a dollar?

I would strongly suggest that you revisit your policy and that proper credit be given to a writer.  Credit is not something one should have to ask for; it should be automatic.  Absent a change in that direction, I would think that you should at least make your policy available on your website.

There is an old Russian proverb – “Do not accept the words from a man’s lips as truth when his pen writes a lie.”

Respectfully,

Veronica Marie Lewis-Shaw

P.O. Box 1862

Portland, Oregon  USA  97207-1862

veronicathepajamathief@hotmail.com

NOTE – I would request that you print my name.  You may also include city and state, but I would prefer that my PO Box and email not be.  Thank you.

~~**~~

There!  That ought to fix them, huh?

Okay... time to step down from my soapbox... for now.

BOOK REVIEW - KATHERINE TOMLINSON'S NIGHTFALLS: Notes From The End Of The World

Nightfalls: Notes From The End of The World by Katherine Tomlinson
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Author and former editor of Dark Valentine magazine, Katherine Tomlinson brings us Nightfalls: Notes From The End of The World, a collection of short stories themed around 'the end days'... 'armageddon'... 'end of the world'... 'sorry folks, we ran out of calendar, it's been nice knowing you'.   Contributors were asked to tell a story about the last day on Earth.

Katherine has brought together an amazing group of people... some of the most talented writers in fiction today.   I am both humbled and honoured to be a part of this anthology.   Proceeds from sales will benefit at-risk children and their families.

I’d like to take just a few minutes and say a bit about this fascinating collection.

“A few minutes, Veronica? Say a bit?”  Okay, okay… maybe you want to pour a fresh cup before you settle in to read this.

Nightfalls: Notes From The End of The World begins with a story from the man who gave me my first 'break' in to the 'print world'.

If memory serves, I first met Thomas Pluck over at Flash Fiction Friday. The thing is…

Memory can be a cruel mistress.   She will taunt and tease… scattering words and broken thoughts, like breadcrumbs, on the floor of one’s conscious.  If there are secrets that she is not ready to give up – and there always are - no amount of begging will help.  Memory will reveal the bits and pieces of one’s past in her own fashion… and in her own time.   And… she always wants something in return.

But, I digress…

For anyone who has ever read Thomas’s stories, Acapulcolypse is everything one has come to expect from Mr. Pluck… deftly written with a wonderful undercurrent of humour.  I daresay none of us will look at an ocean cruise quite the same way again.

In Some Say The World Will End In Fire, Sidney Anne Harrison brings us a new twist on the ‘world ends in a big, blazing ball of fire’ trope with a revealing look into one man’s madness.  There is a poignancy here that sets the mood beautifully.  The symbolism is inescapable – “The vegetable just continued to stare down at his string beans, as if they held some secret meaning.” - and makes for a very compelling read.  Sidney tells a frightening little tale that left me cold! Well done, Sidney!

“Ren wakes up to find he is scratching his balls.”  And thus begins Chris Rhatigan’s premonition on how life on this big blue spinning marble ends.  In Forward Is Where The Croissantwich Is, Chris brings us a quirky little tale, replete with wit and a rather disturbing look inside the mind of a man whose lift doesn’t quite make it to the top floor, if you’ll pardon the euphemism.  At the end, Chris’s character puts the whole matter of the ‘end of days’ into a perspective that only someone who has seen too much truth, could truly understand.

Kit Laurange’s Somebody Brave conjures up the apocalyptic demise of an ‘other-world’, where ogres and goblins seek to destroy man and dragons eat the sky… where the rattle of ‘bones’ decide… but wait, I can’t tell you!  That’d be giving away the surprise!

In Our Lady, by Dale T Phillip’s, an uncle does what he must to make sure his nephew has Christmas before… before los ángeles quemar.

Nigel Bird, one (of many, I might add… don’t want to be giving Nigel a big head, eh?) of my favorite writers, offers up Greene Day… a DJ’s reflections on the end of all things, good and bad, and waxes nostalgic over regrets too late to change now.  Nigel’s brilliant sense of humour comes through perfectly with that last caller!   Nice one, Mr. Bird!

Megan McCord’s Isabel is a heartbreaking tale of life, love and loss; a touching and poignant look at the ‘end of days’.   This one left a lump in my throat and a salty dampness on my cheek.

Anyone who has read Sandra Seamans knows that her writing never disappoints.   And so it is with The Memory Keeper… a memorable tale of… well, I can’t say too much without revealing the heart of the story.  Let’s just say that there’s a warrior woman and a wise woman… memories to keep and an ending one won’t forget.  Brilliant and imaginative, The Memory Keeper is one of my favorites!

Bon Appétit, Barb Goodman’s most welcome addition to this amazing collection, delivers the not-so-subtle message that one reaps what they sow and that no matter how much time man has left on this spinning orb, it’s never too late to stand up for ourselves.  Great story, Barb!

Christopher Grant’s Déjà Vu is a wonderfully crafted story with a very interesting twist to the ‘end of the world’ theme… a nicely written tale that challenges one’s perceptions of forever.

Denial only works for a short while and then reality kicks it to the curb, as evidenced in Matthew Funk’s It’s Not The End Of The World.  Sharp and tightly written, Matthew’s writing is always a pleasure to read.

A Sound As Of Trumpets offers up one woman’s rationalization for felicide.   Unfortunately, for her, karma really can be a bitch.   Berkeley Hunt writes a nice little ‘quiet horror’ here that is quite satisfying to read.

Col Bury – who let this bloke in? (just kidding, Col!) serves up the darkly humourous Supper Time… a gritty little tale that, were I a man, I would no doubt be squirming in my seat and touching parts of me for reassurance.   Ahh... but look and see who gets the last laugh here!

It takes the end of the world for a son to reconcile with his parents in Alex Keir’s poignant Call The Folks.

A few must be sacrificed for the greater good in Dellani Oakes’ Blackened, a futurist tale of an alien-wrought Armageddon.  I’m not a huge sc-fi fan, but I really enjoyed this story!

The End of Everything is AJ Hayes’ poetic ode to the end of… well, everything!   Beautifully paced verse brings startling imagery to one’s mind’s eye as AJ unveils mankind’s fate.

Last Shift, Steven Luna’s darkly humoured tale, reminds us that, in the end, we get what we deserve… and sometimes, more than we deserve.  Written in the voice of an ego-driven male, Last Shift is definitely on my short-list of favorites.  A little insight into the male mind is never a bad thing, right?

Curse you, Steven… now I can’t get the image of that hot chick in black tank top and shredded jeans, blowing white vapor over her red-painted lips, out of my head!

Into The Night, by… oh, wait… I can’t write about my own story; that’d be a bit self-serving, wouldn’t it? I will say this though.  In writing Into The Night, in order to bring the emotional depth to the story that I had in mind, it was necessary to resurrect a part of my past that has taken me a long time to come to terms with.   Such are the ‘sacrifices’ a writer makes for their craft.

There is a quiet, building horror to Richard Godwin’s Blackout… from the opening lines with the two protagonists discussing proper language use – I’m paraphrasing here: ‘just because the world is ending, is no reason for sloppy language’ – to his description of a naked woman in the street and two men eating her legs, Richard builds on a theme… inevitability.  Blackout is one of Richard’s ‘quieter’ stories… it is also one of his most powerful stories.  Poignant and reflective, Richard Godwin delivers!

“… Val Sweeney had been present at the beginnings of a few too many apocalypses…” And with that rather cryptic remark, Scott J Laurange’s Amidst Encircling Gloom captivates the reader, pulling them into Scott’s intriguing tale of Earth’s last days.  There is a thread of subtle humour throughout that strikes just the right chord, woven in with some beautifully descriptive phrasing…. “Val’s smile had fallen into his scotch…” … I can almost hear the splash!  Brilliantly macabre, Amidst Encircling Gloom is a ‘must-read’!

Devotee, G Wells Taylor’s contribution to this little soiree, is a haunting look at one man’s ‘world’… a world that slowly fades away… a world where not even the eternity of love can stop the inevitability of time.   Devotee is truly memorable.  This is a story that is going to stick in my mind for some time.


R.C. Barnes' Princess Soda and the Bubblegum Knight is the powerful and moving story of sisters facing the last day… and granting one last wish before… night falls and not even an echo survives in the darkness.

In The Last Wave, Kaye George gives us a look at an ‘end times’ precipitated by a shift in government.   It’s a cautionary tale… “Be careful what you wish for; you just may get it.”  After reading this story, I may cut back on my blogging.

In Allan Leverone’s The Dogs On Main Street Howl, not even an apocalypse can keep Kate from making it to Broadway.  Only thing is… there is no one to share her success with.   Except for the overdue baby nestled in her distended womb, Kate is alone in the ‘Concrete Jungle’ … just her, the baby and…‘The Things”.

The Knitted Gaol-Born Sow Monkey, by Peter Mark May, offers a ‘last day on earth’ look on prisoner Anthony Slaven… who exchanges one prison for another.  Dark magic blended with dark imagery, Peter’s story left a chill over me.  Nicely done, Peter… nicely done!

We always think… hope, rather… that there is time enough to reconcile past regrets.  Christian Dabnor’s Crossfade explores this hope, bringing to the reader a deftly written tale of human frailties and failings.

Jesse James Freeman brings us The Tasting, a tautly-written plague apocalypse tale.  There is a dark poignancy here that rather tugs at the heartstrings.  Brilliantly descriptive and evocative, The Tasting is a memorable read.

The Annas, by Patricia Abbott, is a haunting story… a morality tale, really… of a future doomed before its inception.  I must admit, the feminist in me finds a certain appeal in the concept presented in The Annas.  I probably ought not say too much more though, lest I give something away.  Patricia has written a wonderfully imaginative story with an ending that gave me goose pimples!  I enjoyed The Annas so much I had to read it again… and then, again!  Brava, Patricia!

Jimmy Callaway’s Night Train To Mundo Fine is a quirky little tale with a fine erotic touch.  I suppose there are worse ways to spend your last day on Earth.  Nice one, Jimmy!

Thank you, Katherine, for your tireless efforts in bringing this all together.  I'm sure I speak for everyone involved in this project in saying how much we are honoured to take part in this with you, especially one done for such a worthwhile cause.  Knowing that the proceeds will go to benefit at-risk children and their parents was all the incentive we needed to 'put pencil to paper' and bring a story or poem to you.   And, knowing that we are helping others is all the 'thanks' we could ever ask for.

Thank you for giving us this opportunity to, if I may borrow a few words from your introduction to Nightfalls, 'light a candle against the darkness'.


Veronica Marie Lewis-Shaw
12 January 2013
Cannon Beach, Oregon

View all my reviews

Amy and Tina's Opening Monologue - 2013 Golden Globe Awards