For some writers, writing on Tumblr is practice. They hone their craft and hope to get feedback, and learn from it. (Or defend their material tooth and claw.) Meeting other aspiring writers, those who are in the middle of actually writing a book and planning to publish in the future, is a bonus. The pieces that these potential authors post (“potential” because they are “doing something” to break into the world of publishing) is the kind of stuff that publishers don’t buy. These pieces aren’t complete. You cannot sell heartbreak. You cannot sell ponderings. A book needs characters, plot, conflict, and catharsis. Having 20,000 followers doesn’t mean you are ready to be a novelist. It is something to be proud of, but it won’t get you a publishing deal. Creating a book worthy of one’s target market takes more than 2000 posts about your soulmate. So, for those who use Tumblr as an ‘experiment’, or That Agonizing Period Before A Book Deal, the things they post have very little value compared to the things they don’t (offline work, if you will). What they post are those they only deign to share. (Does that sound arrogant? Well, if you consider yourself an artist, strap on a pair. Art cannot exist if you have no pride to own it.) With this in mind, these people are aware of the dangers of getting plagiarized. They know how defenseless they are against the thieves. It’s more difficult to pin the culprits down because there is no copyright infringement (i.e. piracy, something that involves money). It is, in my own opinion, safe to say that “potential authors” post only things that they wouldn’t mind giving away. Plagiarism is evil, no question about that; and being plagiarized, although a tad flattering, is akin to being skinned alive.
I had posted a novella a few months back, an “offline work” that I wanted to share while I was in the process of writing it, and a shark attempted to steal it. I will never post a story that I intend to publish in print on here again. But I am still writing. Is the distinction clear here? I don’t want people stealing my stuff, but if they do, I don’t think it’s a big loss (for me, anyway; my posts have time stamps; it would be easy to figure out who the original author is). I have my “offline work” to cling to. And those, I will keep safe.
But let me talk about another kind of Tumblr writer. These writers do not consider themselves “potential authors”. Several don’t even believe fully that they are good enough. They know they are good, but they don’t know exactly how much. These people do not aim to publish novels. To them, their blog IS their novel. These are the writers that share, not just their words, but their souls. Some people say “just because you lineate your bullshit doesn’t make you a poet.” True. Talk to me about my standards on poetry. I have a lot to say on it. But those standards are reserved for books. My standard for Tumblr is ‘soul’. And these things shine from the words I read. It doesn’t matter how good these things are written, or how bad; the heartbreaking beauty of these writers’ souls, their tragic glories, glimmer from the pieces they share. And without the shadow of an “offline work” to put pressure on their processes, these writers are more raw, honest, experimental and unique. Not pretentious, but passionate. Not haughty, but overflowing with the magic of words.
Obviously, it depends on the writer’s aims. The two “generic” kinds I had described may interchange or interweave. There is really no way of knowing. But give the benefit of the doubt and believe that, more often than not, the things you read here are pieces of someone’s soul. Be kind in treating them. You were given the privilege to partake. If you don’t like the taste, scuttle away. If you can leave without granting damage, be gracious enough to do so. If you do not have the grace, then don’t be lame and just fuck off. I digress. What I meant to say was, before you steal the words, before you even think of stealing the words, from someone’s blog, never forget that you are stealing someone’s soul. If you are fine with it, it speaks a lot of how you were raised. It speaks about how you exist. It speaks about an emptiness. I feel sorry for the plagiarists. To be that hollow as to subsititute someone’s soul for theirs, that’s an emptiness that consumes. There’s a loser right there, through and through.
