Earlier today, dark whispers fell upon my ear, warning of a website that might be offering, for free, downloads of a number of stories published under the name of my Other Self. Upon investigation, I found the abomination to be true.
Thieving! Piracy! Violation of copyright!
There seems to be an infuriating percentage of vile humanity that feels justified in taking the hard artwork of others by hook or by crook. Such entitlement! Were the world under my regime*, I’d see all such individuals given their due.
*Soon, you wretches. Soon.
Something involving boiling oil, perhaps, poured into their eyes, that they might never read another word again. Or maybe just a crippling attack from the vicious malware not uncommonly attached to illegal downloads like these*.
*A cruel but fitting irony, that. I could almost approve.
To my disgust, however, Other Me (though every bit as displeased as I
was AM) made no move at sweet retaliation — only contacted the perpetrating site with a no-nonsense message stating that they did not have her permission to distribute our work and were to remove it from their cache of ill-gotten booty at once.
I halfway hope they ignore her, leaving the way open for us to do things my way.
Keelhauling. Plank-walking. Hanging. That’s how you deal with pirates.
Though it crush the dreams of starry-eyed aspirants to hear it, authors aren’t so glamorously rich that swiping their labor of years from unauthorized sources doesn’t hurt them. If you wish to undermine their careers, risking the discontinuation of the stories bookish thieves can’t seem to do without, this is a fine and dastardly road toward that very end. If, on the other hand, you want a free book without a black spot on your soul to show for it, ask for it at a library.
Villainy has its time and place.
THIS. IS. NOT. IT.