Steal This Idea
Jul102010
Copying, stealing, making it new. Jeff Veen did an Ignite talk based on Picasso’s comment that, “Good artists copy, great artists steal”:
Of course, I’m fascinated by this because this is what I did in Maybe This Time. I didn’t copy, I stole. That is, I didn’t copy The Turn of the Screw in its existing form, nor did I use it as a template just to be cute or cool. As Jeff Veen says, I looked at the principles behind the story, the things that made it fascinating, and I stole those: The precocious threatened children, the isolated heroine, the far-removed hero who nevertheless fuels so much of the action, the constant questioning of what is real and what is imagination. The key, as Eliot said, is to make the homage, the new work, utterly different from the source. The echos should remain to enrich the work, but you have to create something new or you’re always be the second best rendition of that story.
I like this concept, this idea of understanding why the artist/author created something and then using that as a springboard for your own idea, of paying homage while making something new. I hadn’t thought of it that way before I wrote Maybe This Time, but now that I’ve done it, and looking at it through the perspective of Veen’s Ignite talk, it seems both obvious and elegant.
What do you think?
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40 Comments to 'Steal This Idea'
On July 11, 2010 at 12:28 am Eve said...
really great link, thanks! The title by itself is priceless and we learned something. Groovy.
On July 11, 2010 at 12:29 am Eve said...
btw, this is why I wish you’d start teaching online like Lani because you have an incredible talent for breaking this down (texts, etc) and making them relatable and understandable. Teach woman, Teeeeeach. You shall be our cookie-wielding sage.
On July 11, 2010 at 11:00 am Jenny said...
I’ve been thinking about doing a retreat here in Ohio, but I’m so swamped that I don’t see that working out any time soon. So maybe I’ll go steal Lani’s method of online teaching and see if I can do something there. Standing on the shoulders of my giant roommate.
On July 11, 2010 at 7:20 pm inkgrrl said...
Oh yes please!!
On July 11, 2010 at 1:42 am Thea said...
Hmmm, In my view, you *do* teach. I learn. In whatever dollops you deem.
On July 11, 2010 at 11:00 am Jenny said...
I think Eve was looking for something more organized (g).
On July 11, 2010 at 2:58 am Merry said...
I’d heard it attributed to T.S. Elliot: “Good writers borrow, great writers steal.”
Alas, in my work environment it is rendered thusly: technical writers are encouraged and incited to synergistically leverage viable content to creative and waterfall it to the respective agile teams.
And yes, that previous sentence WAS written in what would be considered, by its recipients, the English language.
On July 11, 2010 at 7:15 am Naked Under My Clothes said...
Good God. Back when I was a technical writer, “waterfall” was a noun. Quite a pretty thing, actually. And now it’s verbing. Dang.
On July 11, 2010 at 7:16 am Naked Under My Clothes said...
Also, what’s a “creative”?
On July 11, 2010 at 10:33 am Jenny said...
I think a designer. Of anything. Anybody who makes up stuff for a living. You.
On July 11, 2010 at 10:32 am Jenny said...
He mentions that quote in the video, Merry. It’s something like “Inferior poets copy, great poets steal,” but that’s not it, either because there was a play on words in the first clause. I’ll look at the video again later and get the quote.
On July 11, 2010 at 5:03 pm Verona St. James said...
Immature poets copy.
Mature poets steal.
I think…
On July 11, 2010 at 7:22 pm inkgrrl said...
Thank the gods they stopped before they shifted the paradigm via electronification.
I need to pour antiseptic gel all over my brain now.
On July 11, 2010 at 8:00 am LilyC said...
I think it comes back to what he says at the end – the Sir Isaac Newton quote – “If I have been able to see further than others, it is because I have stood on the shoulders of giants.”
It’s all about acknowledging what has been created in the past, and what your creation owes to it in moving the boundaries forward, and seeing where you can take it next.
On July 11, 2010 at 8:01 am AgTigress said...
Doesn’t it all really come down to the definition of ‘inspiration’? An artist of any kind observes and experiences life, and transmutes elements of it within his/her own mind into something new. The inspiration may be a natural landscape, or another artist’s painting, but by the time that inspiration has been processed, merged with, and significantly altered by the second artist’s sensibility and experience, it has become something new and different, a product of creation, not imitation.
This is exactly the process you described, Jenny, with the Henry James novel. By the time you had received it, processed it, subjected it to your personal vision and experience, it had mutated into something new, something that has your personal stamp on it.
I very strongly question the use of the word ‘steal’ as Picasso, and apparently T.S. Eliot, used it. I think it is the wrong word entirely. It would mean the ultimate plagiarism, simply taking someone else’s work and representing it as one’s own, ‘lifting’ it bodily and not processing it at all. Perhaps one can forgive Picasso for using the wrong word (not only was he a visual artist rather than a writer, but it is presumably a translation into English of a Spaniard speaking in French), but I am a bit shocked by Eliot. Aren’t poets supposed to be good at choosing exactly the right words?
We can all agree on what copying (and plagiarising) means. That is the superficial imitation of someone else’s work, lacking insight and understanding. There is no creative input at all from the copier — it is, in fact ‘stealing’ of a particular kind.
But I don’t think that taking someone else’s work as an inspiration, a trigger for one’s own muse, is stealing at all, of any kind. It is simply being inspired by art rather than nature.
On July 11, 2010 at 12:31 pm Diane (TT) said...
My thought is that the word “steal” here is intentionally used to shock, but refers less to the idea of taking something and more to the fact that, having taken, one makes it one’s own.
But I could be wrong.
On July 11, 2010 at 9:09 am Ingrid said...
In Dutch we say “beter goed gejat dan slecht bedacht”. It means “it is better to pinch something well than to invent something badly”, and in my experience it is used a lot by teachers as they make their way to the photocopier.
I was searching for a good English equivalent when I found “imitation is the sincerest form of flattery” on this translators’ website:
http://dut.proz.com/kudoz/dutch_to_english/poetry_literature/1891414-beter_goed_gejat_dan_slecht_bedacht_verzonnen.html
I’m sure Henry James feels flattered by your book, wherever he is, Jenny.
On July 11, 2010 at 11:04 am Jenny said...
James would probably say, “A romance novel? Did she miss the point about the guardian never being there?” I don’t know if he felt the same way about women novelists as Hawthorne did–”damned scribbling women”–but I don’t think he was a fan of the popular women’s literature of his time.
On July 11, 2010 at 10:21 am McB said...
Doesn’t this come back to the idea that there are no new ideas just new ways to implement them? A good story isn’t just about where the author is going; it’s how she gets there that pulls us in. A better mousetrap is still a better mousetrap.
And don’t get me started on the subject of verbing words. I work Washington, DC. More than the Nation’s Capitol, it is also the capitol of gobbledegook.
On July 11, 2010 at 10:51 am Jenny said...
I went back to the video find the T.S. Eliot quote:
I like the use of “steal” here. It’s a good strong word that implies taking permanently, not borrowing. It gives the strength of the appropriation. And it’s jarring, it makes you think about it because your first instinct is to protest, to say “Hey, it’s not plagiarism, I’m using it for inspiration, it’s not a crime,” and then you realize you are stealing, you might be standing on the shoulders of that giant, but you’re picking his pocket, too.
I could not have written Maybe This Time without stealing from James. If I’d just been inspired by him, it would have been an entirely different book. The fact that I’m up front about it–”Hey, this is a homage to Henry James”–does not alter the fact that I stole his premise, several of his scenes, and two of his characters.
The surprise for me was how hard it was to steal. The premise was easy, snagging the house and saying it had been brought to America was easy, even doing analogs for the characters (the children are the same genders and the same ages, there’s a housekeeper and an absent guardian, etc.) was easy, but once I got into the book, it began to go its own way very quickly. There were scenes I knew I wanted to echo–the first scene with the guardian, the scene at the pond, the climax–but I kept re-reading the original to find places to echo because the book had become its own thing so thoroughly I was afraid I was losing the echos from the source. I wanted to do the Quint’s-face-at-the-window bit and it never worked out. Mostly the echoes were details–Carter was sent home from boarding school just like Miles, the ghosts have affinities for the children of their genders, Miss J. is dressed like Miss Jessel, etc. I took phrases, too, that might echo. But in general, it turned out to be a lot harder to steal than I thought.
I do want to do Alice’s book in a year or so, when MTT is cold in my head and I can look at it clearly. And that’ll owe James, too, not because it’ll be The Turn of the Screw again but because Alice is going to have to process all of that as an adult, her book will steal from James’s through the original theft. And I don’t think James would mind; he stole the original idea from a ghost story told by the Archbishop of Canterbury.
The Wikipedia entry for TOS has a list of literary allusions including a short story by Joyce Carol Oates.
On July 11, 2010 at 11:18 am Susan said...
I totally agree with this, Jenny. Because if you are a good “stealer,” then that means you thoroughly understood what made the original story work in the first place AND have the skills to put what worked into your own work.
-S.
On July 11, 2010 at 11:43 am Jinx said...
Also, remember that language in general (and the English language more than many) is created by the theft of one idea and its re-erection in a new place. We steal the names of concrete things to expresss abstract ideas (“foundation,” “root,” “balance”) and we both verbify nouns and nounify verbs when there’s a need to do so. In English, the educated class used to steal terms from Latin or Greek all the time when they either couldn’t think of a word in English, or didn’t like the low, physical tone of the common Germanic word. Linguistically, stealing is what we all are used to.
On July 11, 2010 at 12:12 pm robena grant said...
This is a compliment to the creator. In essence, you’re saying I totally get this idea, I admire this, you’re a genius, now here’s my version. Your version can never be exactly the same, because your voice is not the same. It’s kind of like making your mother’s favorite recipe where you use the same ingredients, you follow every suggestion, but somehow it tastes a little bit different. Hell, don’t tell Mama, but it might even be better. : )
On July 11, 2010 at 12:19 pm Jessie said...
I loved the Picasso quote. He not only stole that – well, he rephrased it slightly for his own use. If a writer did that we would be screaming plagerism. And, of course, Picasso didn’t stop there. He also “stole” the idea of cubism and maybe the technique from his good buddy Bracque who came up with the theory then worked on it with Picasso. They painted together and would exchange canvases while painting. Somehow Bracque got sidelined in the giving credit stakes. It would be like leaving Bob’s name off “Agnes and the Hitman”.
On July 11, 2010 at 1:52 pm Clever Cherry aka Judy Long said...
What I don’t like is when someone steals concepts from others and doesn’t credit it when attempting to make themselves into some kind of guru for others to follow. For example, many many people in the new age movement.
On July 11, 2010 at 1:53 pm Clever Cherry aka Judy Long said...
Sorry interrupted by my gkids. I love the idea of standing on the shoulders of giants and giving homage as Jenny has done in MTT. Repeating myself but can’t wait to read it!
On July 11, 2010 at 2:59 pm SusanK said...
I’m with Eve! Teach! Please, teach! I’ve learnt so much from the pieces you have posted, I can only imagine how valuable a retreat or online workshop would be. I was reworking some dialogue recently and decided the only way I’d get it to sparkle, like yours, is to sprinkle the page with glitter. That’d gladden a publisher’s heart, I’m sure.
On July 11, 2010 at 3:57 pm Jenny said...
That’s my secret. That and the glittery hooha.
On July 11, 2010 at 3:37 pm Ingrid said...
When you get down to it, this whole originality thing is just a modern literary fad that is only about two hundred years old. For thousands of years writers strove to imitate great predecessors, and hopefully, if they were very good, ended up emulating them. Virgil’s Aeneis, for instance, emulated Homer, and Tasso’s Gerusalemme liberata emulated Virgil.
And even in these days of originality, if you call it ‘hommage’ that makes everything all right. And I bet that Henry James on his cloud prefers hommage to being forgotten, even if it is in a romance novel – which I thought you did not write anymore, Jenny?
Yes! My italics came out right!
On July 11, 2010 at 4:04 pm Jenny said...
Yep. Shakespeare stole every story he wrote. And then he did the best version of it ever which is why his is the version we remember.
Except for Taming of the Shrew. The best version of that is Ten Things I Hate About You.
As for romance, I’ll probably always write it. I think the reviewers who said this was a a ghost story with a romantic subplot are right. I also think the most important relationship is between Andie and Alice, but I could be wrong about that. I’m really too close to the book to see it clearly. Wait a couple of years and I’ll have forgotten it, and I can read it again with clear eyes.
Teaching: I dunno. I like to teach, and I know the format I’d use, the standard MFA creative writing format, but it’s tricky. And right now, I’m swamped. But I’m very tempted.
On July 11, 2010 at 5:06 pm Verona St. James said...
Do it!
On July 11, 2010 at 5:48 pm Carol Anne said...
Be tempted. Do you have a conference administrator? A Cherry? A Betty? A Cherry-Betty? A committee to do the administrating, procurring the room, a hotel or conference center, a registrar, a book seller, volunteers to do the leg work? You show up and the rest will be nothing but good times ahead.
On July 12, 2010 at 1:44 pm JulieB said...
Carol Anne, she had a genius Cherry on a Harley a few years back.
On July 11, 2010 at 7:25 pm inkgrrl said...
*dangles chocolate and yarn and other yummy shiny things*
*tempt*
*tempt*
*tempt*
On July 12, 2010 at 1:43 pm JulieB said...
I’ll come. But I need financial lead time.
On July 13, 2010 at 2:06 pm Carol Anne said...
It would be great if everyone could be in one room, with chocolate wouldn’t it. Oh, well, a Cherry on a Harley Part Duex or another catchy title on WizIQ so everyone could be there. Sigh… not everyone can be at Nationals or in the same room, in the same country, in the same time zone.
On July 11, 2010 at 7:31 pm Carol said...
If you do nothing more than what you have been doing on this blog, it would be good. I have learned. I will continue to learn. But an online workshop? That would be super cool! I could actually attend that one!
Whatever you do, I will be more grateful than I can say for what you have shared with us.
On July 11, 2010 at 7:47 pm Deborah Blake said...
Er…the glittery hooha isn’t much of a secret anymore
And just tell me when and where the retreat is; I’ll bring the chocolate.
I learned so much from you at the “Turning Points” workshop you gave last year at RWA Nationals. It completely changed the way I looked at my writing. (Which I’m pretty sure was a good thing…)
On the other hand, we can wait until you’re not so overwhelmed. *sits patiently and waits*
On July 11, 2010 at 11:36 pm Clever Cherry aka Judy Long said...
Two things – One – I was really enjoying this blog and all the comments earlier when I got interrupted by my gkids visiting. I also enjoy them. Because of their enthusiasm (read chaos) I didn’t get to say what I wanted. I love the quote about great artists stealing wherever it originated. Those times when I’m tired of my work and thinking I don’t have anything new to say, I remember that quote and I know; there aren’t any new things to say just new ways to say them, so I’m okay.
Two – I’m a writer and I really want to learn from Jenny. But I’m scared. I’m scared that if she is teaching formally she won’t be writing and I really want new Jenny books. I learn so much from this blog.
However, what I really want for Jenny is whatever Jenny wants for Jenny so whatever that is – go for it!
On July 12, 2010 at 1:15 am Eve said...
wow, didn’t know about Shakespeare. Looked it up thanks to you and found out there is also a possible further conspiracy theory – whether he ever really existed, at least as a single entity? spooky.
Thanks for considering the online method of teaching. If anything it could be more convenient for everyone involved – no traveling hassle and the opportunity to get to process the material over a longer period of time (although, that’s more for us
). I still reread some of the posts you wrote for HE Wrote/SHE Wrote and I’m so entirely fascinated with you making a cohesive theme out of something, I’m baffled as to why Ohio (or loads of other Universities) haven’t offered you a tenure yet.
I loved Lani’s class of Discovery so much so, I think I’ll take it again. And if I may put my last two cents in, I think the online method is wonderful but because you two do have different styles (at least to me, in the sense of writing/communicating), perhaps you would even incorporate weekly writing sessions (or bring back letters as a cool factor).
Sorry about the rant. I just got back from Sting’s concert with the Philharmonic (as part of the summer sessions at Nissan Pavilion) and still a bit jittery with excitement over all things good and creative.
I hope you are enjoying having finished another wonderful book. You should be very proud