No One Is Going To "Steal" Your Book Idea

We are all protective of our books. We've spent a lot of time cultivating our ideas, fleshing out our characters, and nailing down the finer points of our worlds, and we don't want all of that going to waste. We think our stories are special, and even if we're riffing on a tale as old as time we still think that we have something unique to offer. A cover of an original song in a style you've never heard before, and which you might like even more than the original.

Seriously, though, we all need to get over ourselves. No one is out here to steal your book.

Back... back damn you! This is MY book!

Original Characters DO NOT STEAL!

I don't read a lot of fan fiction, but the above quote seems to be legion on a lot of the arenas where it's enjoyed. These writers feel the need, while playing in someone else's sandbox, to put up big, bright signs declaring who their original characters are, and demanding that no one else steal them. While that's really presumptuous for someone writing stories with characters and a world typically created by someone else, it also shows an extreme arrogance. It is a big neon sign that says you think so highly of the thing you made that you are convinced people will take it, and claim it as their own if given half a chance.

You would have to pay me real money to fix the mistakes in your character, and grammar.

While most of us are not a stereotypical teen who is just discovering the joy and freedom of the creative process, this suspicion still thrives in a shocking number of places. Go to any Facebook group, any subreddit, or any forum dedicated to writing, and I guarantee you'll find authors on there who are looking for help straightening out a story conflict, or fixing a character flaw, but who are terrified of vultures just waiting to swoop down to steal their ideas.

Let me be perfectly clear on this point. We're talking absolute crystal, here. Repeat after me; no one is going to steal your ideas.

It's Not Stealing if They Write Their Own Book

Before you get yourself all in a twist about someone else stealing your firstborn fiction like some no-talent Rumpelstiltskin, answer this question. If you're discussing your idea with someone, or with a community, and your idea inspires them to write their own book, does that stop you from going forward on your own project?

I'll answer for you; it doesn't.

Besides, books being "too similar" never seems to stop them from selling.

You're not doing yourself any favors by treating your book like some kind of secret recipe. Because the people out there who would be capable of seeing a protagonist and a plot line they could turn into a book are already pretty busy doing that with their own books. And the people who would steal someone else's book, claiming it as their own to cash-in? Well, you're not giving them a book. You've presented a general scene, a main character, and a plot complication. Maybe a few hundred words at most, if you're generous.

Ain't no one out there going to try to spin that straw into gold. Because it's too much damn work.

Thieves Steal Books, Not Ideas

There are book thieves out there, don't get me wrong. But more often than not these are the vanity publishers, the shady "agents", and people who are looking for a quick score. If someone writes their own book, even a book that is similar to yours in some way, it won't be the same book you write. Two authors, even working from the same writing prompt, will create two different finished products.

Actual book thieves are only interested in a complete manuscript. Something they can take, then turn around to sell.

So, you're not wrong to be afraid of thieves. But know that no one is interested in the basic structure of your plot, or in your kickass protagonist. It's also not very likely that someone is going to think your story "changing up" the formula for magic, or space travel, is so unique that they have to copy it. Your book is pretty safe, until it's complete. When it is complete, make sure you keep a tight hold on it. Send it to publishers and agents, by all means, but do your research, and see who you're comfortable with. Because your book is a lot more likely to be stolen and abused by some fly-by-night "publisher" than it will ever be by a fellow author.

Also, if any of this was a revelation, you might also want to check out Questions Beginning Writers Ask (That Experienced Writers Are Tired of Hearing).

That's all for this week's Craft of Writing post. Hopefully it helps some folks out there who've been dealing with this issue. If you'd like to keep up-to-date on all my latest releases, then follow me on Facebook, Tumblr, and Twitter. And if you want to support me and my work, head on over to The Literary Mercenary's Patreon page. For $1 a month you can easily buy my eternal gratitude, and get some free books while you're at it.

How A Grain of Irritation Builds A Pearl of Story

So, as I mentioned way back when I first started this blog, I'm going to have occasional posts where I get up on my soap box and talk about how I do things. This is one of those posts. So instead of trying to offer general advice on craft and industry, today I'm going to share some information about how my personal process works. So if you've been curious about that for one reason or another, then today is your lucky day.

Let me show you how I make these.

A Lifetime of Literature

In order to be a good writer, you have to do a lot of reading. That's a truism that we all know, and it's one I took to heart early on in life. I checked out whole shelves of the library, bought anything I could get my hands on, and traded for pulps, paperbacks, and even a few classics before all the used bookstores shuttered their doors. I always have a book on CD in my car, and I finish them with some regularity between errands, conventions, and other appointments. In addition to books, though, I am an avid lover of genre films. Sci-fi, fantasy, horror, and others have made up a lot of my entertainment diet over the years.

I've consumed a huge amount of media, popular, obscure, and otherwise. Some of that media has been great, and it's shaped me as both an author, and as a person. Frankenstein and The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde are two titles that come to mind right off the bat. Other stories, though... they weren't so great. In fact, some of them were downright awful. Poorly thought out, badly constructed, rushed, hacky meals that, if someone had physically asked me to eat them, I would have sent it back to the kitchen and demanded something fit for human consumption.

I'm sure you all have a book or two you could think of.

However, while I might learn important lessons in craft from reading books I love, I gain inspiration from books I don't like. Because nothing makes me want to roll up my sleeves and write a good story than seeing someone who did it in a way that stuck its thumb in my eye.

My Brain is An Oyster

Do you know how pearls are made? Well, it all starts with a tiny irritant. A piece of sand, or a chunk of rock, gets pulled inside an oyster, and gets stuck. The meat inside an oyster is sensitive, so it starts excreting a defensive coating. The irritant is coated repeatedly, until it's smooth, and can no longer cause the oyster any pain. By the time it's done, though, the irritant has turned from a worthless, painful speck, into a beautiful work of art.

That's kind of how my creative process works.

I sense you're looking for an example?

If you haven't read The Big Bad II, you really should. Because in addition to a bunch of other great stories, you'll come across a dark little piece I wrote called Little Gods. The basic premise is that Richard Blackheart, warlock for hire, has his services paid for by a woman called the Sterile Saint. She's trying to take the mantle from the Hook Man, Chicago's little god of murder, and she needs help. A mercenary to his core, Blackheart takes the job... but he does it in his own way, and for his own reasons.

This story takes place in what I refer to as my Chicago Strange setting, and a lot of the elements of that setting came from things that frustrated me about the urban fantasy novels that made up the rest of the genre at time of writing. The biggest issue I kept running into as a reader was the way so many authors felt the need to bring in pagan gods, but then to have them act just like any other character, or to put them there for nothing more than name-drop purposes before going back to the (now less interesting) main character. Neil Gaiman's American Gods managed to strike the balance between beings who possessed immense power, and who were also very vulnerable, and very mortal despite that power. That novel made other attempts at turning gods into side characters, from the Dresden Files to the Iron Druid series, stick in my craw. After a while, I'd actually shut books who started name dropping gods if the plot wasn't actually about those gods, and what they were doing.

Why did I do this? Unanswered questions, mostly. For example, if the author declares certain gods exist, then which ones are real and which ones are fake? In worlds where the Abrahamic god is real, and pagan gods are also real, where does the power of one end, and the other begin? If these deities are walking the world, then are they getting involved with things? Does it matter how much someone believes in them, or is that irrelevant to their existence? Why couldn't you think of a deus ex machina that was a little less literal?

So many questions, and so little attention to them, annoyed me. That annoyance got into my head, and made me examine the setting I was putting together. There should be some kind of divine force for this dirty little noir world I'd made, but I didn't just want to rip off real-world religions. The more famous Neil had already done it far better than I thought I could. So I created something different.

I made the Little Gods.

Who are the Little Gods? They're the whispers on the street corners, the legends in the back alleys, and the stories you tell around the campfire. They're the bloody faces who come through your mirrors, the maniacs that prowl lovers' lane, and the lost souls who walk weeping through the streets under full moons. The little gods of the city, as some call them, are urban legends. The patrons of murder, death, sorrow, and luck, all of them waiting and listening as their stories are spread just a little bit further through the cracks of the concrete grapevine.

The Little Gods are not permanent, though. Their mantles can be stolen, and their stories changed. The Hook Man is the little god of murder, it's true, but there were others before him. Bloody Jake, Kate Hatchet, Raw Head Bloody Bones, the Wendigo, and others. The pantheon of this city is ever new, ever changing, and when something grows too old, or too corrupt, it will be torn down by a younger, hungrier rival who wants its place at the top of the heap.

Don't Complain, If You Aren't Willing To Do Better

That's just one example of how my brain sees an idea that irritates something sensitive in my head, until my creative process coats it in enough layers that I have my own version. The irritation I dealt with while attempting to read The Space Wolves Omnibus (I made it 100 pages before I gave it up) led me to pen my story Heart of The Myrmidon, for example, because I wanted to see what would happen if the gigantic super soldiers still had emotions, and could suffer existential crises. I wrote New Avalon: Love and Loss in The City of Steam because so much steampunk that I saw was either saccharine, or involved the authors just sticking some gears and brass on modern machinery, and calling it good enough. It wasn't, so I tried to write something better.

The list goes on, and I have a ton of other projects coming down the way that grew out of a single irritant that just got lodged in my eye. But, by the time I've coated, and dissected, and planned, and written, you know something? Not only do I have a new story (or in some cases a full-on manuscript), but the original irritant no longer pains me. I still won't like the place it came from, but I will no longer feel the need to lash out at it.

Because I already created something that soothes my frustration, which I think will give readers a new take on this idea. And that is the best answer a writer can give to something they don't like.

That's all for this week's Craft of Writing post. Hopefully it helped some folks out there, and even if it didn't, that you found this look into my head to be entertaining. If you'd like to support me, and help me keep the blog going, then stop by The Literary Mercenary's Patreon page to become a patron today. Pledge at least $1 a month and you'll buy not only my everlasting gratitude, but some sweet swag as well! Lastly, if you haven't followed me on Facebook, Tumblr, or Twitter yet, why not start today?