Spending a quiet and leisurely Sunday afternoon at home in Denver, Colorado, USA, I was directed to a post made at a public site on the Internet by Mrs. Alice Martin of Oakland, California:

“Your work is garbage!!!”

Mrs. Martin's critique of my work came complete with three exclamation points.  I probably have used an exclamation point three times in all of my own writing over the course of the past five years.  Thus, I am certain that Mrs. Alice Martin of Oakland California knows of what she writes.  (Years ago a janitor in Seattle, Washington, remarked that his cat wrote better than I do ... But, that is a tale for another day.)

Mrs. Martin took the time to make a follow up posting in order make sure that I knew of what work she referenced:

“By work, I'm referring to the books that you have written.”

What is most interesting about Mrs. Martin's review of my books is that she never actually has read a word of any one of them.  Not a single, solitary word.  Nonetheless, this episode with Mrs. Alice Martin points to a sad situation that is occurring on the Internet and World Wide Web today.  Because I share my platform at this magazine with other writers I admire, I wanted to take a moment to address a problem that has reached epidemic proportions.

The theft of copyrighted material is occurring on the Internet at an alarming rate in this day and age.  Moreover, those people who are stealing copyrighted material are doing so in a bold and brash fashion.

The reality is that my first encounter with Mrs. Martin was not in regard to her review of my fictional efforts; rather, Mrs. Martin appropriated copyrighted material I own, to which I am entitled to a royalty and for which she has paid nothing.  Obviously, I am far from alone.  Unfortunately, I would hazard a guess that there is not a single active writer in the world today who has not dealt with copyright infringement at one time or another.

When I demanded payment for my work, Mrs. Martin simply stated:

“I ain't stolen nothin'.”

And then proceeded to smear my abilities as a writer.  And my professional career.  And my personal life.  Indeed, there was nothing about my very existence that Mrs. Alice Martin of Oakland, California, did not attack – with plenty of exclamation marks and an abundant use of the “word” ain't.

As anyone who has read my books, visited my website, read items I have written, attended lectures I have given understands ... a dozen years ago I was involved in a pitched battle with alcoholism and depression.  In the midst of all of this, I ended up making terribly poor decisions in regard to a couple of businesses I was involved with at the time.  In short, my life was a horrible mess ... a dozen years ago.

Ultimately, as I have also shared publicly innumerable times through the years, I pleaded guilty to a couple of white collar charges, spent 13 months in a low level detention facility and on home detention and then carried on with my life.  (Actually, on the first night of my incarceration I was held in a dismal city jail.  All I had in my possession was a stub of a pencil and a roll of toilet paper.  I elected to take advantage of the two items I had in life and began to write the words – with the pencil stub and toilet paper – that would eventually become a part of my first book published.  The working title of that book aptly was “Toilet Paper Memoirs.”  But, again, that is a story for another day.)

While this walk down memory lane may sound unrelated to copyright infringement, Mrs. Martin (in part relying on interviews I have given with the media about the ups and downs of my life) used all of this as a reason why she was not paying for the copyrighted material she had misappropriated. 

Through this essay, I desire to make two points:

First, no matter how hot it might get in the kitchen – particularly if you end up dealing with the likes of a Mrs. Alice Martin – writers and artists must draw a deep line in the sand when it comes to copyright infringement.  We must stand our ground and demand that people who will steal our work be made to pay for these infringements.

Second, and perhaps more importantly, when you are faced as a writer with the malevolent rants of a person quite like my Mrs. Martin, step back for a minute and remember those people you have encountered on your journey who have remarked that your work touched them.  In the end, reaching a reader in this way is why you became a writer in the first place.