Literary jackals must die!
by James Norton

I write garbage. A lot of it. Many other creative writers do exactly the same thing. The act of assembling a news article may sometimes be rote, but building a story or novel is a balancing act, a war against chaos and a personal struggle. Sometimes the result is sweet and inspires pride. Usually, it's the digital equivalent of hog manure.

So to many writers, the thought of having their messy, disorganized, incoherent creative goblins pushed through a printing press and displayed to the world is truly horrifying.

This is exactly what is happening to recently deceased author Douglas Adams. Plans are now underway to assemble and publish a collection of the author's unpublished work, including an unfinished novel and a screenplay for a film version of "The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy."

The author's literary agent, Ed Victor, was quoted by the Independent as saying "A very careful decision will have to be taken about [the unpublished work], because Douglas was always very particular about what he submitted, not just because of his problems with deadlines, but also because he was a perfectionist."

Because he was a perfectionist.

If a "perfectionist" were to speak via Ouiji board about how'd he'd like his uncompleted works in progress handled, what would he most likely say?

A) "Oh, what the hell. I'm dead. Just print everything like it is."

B) "Why don't you just putter around and see if you can't fix it up? I'm sure it'll be fine with a little re-writing. Then let's take it to press!"

C) "Burn it all. It's not ready yet. It will never be ready. It's not a fair representation of my work."

It is entirely possible Mr. Adams left specific instructions recommending option A or B, although neither the Independent nor BBC accounts indicate this. But if the author left no final testament recommending the wholesale gutting of his intellectual storehouse, it seems to be an act taken in rather bad taste by the profit-hungry jackals of publishing.

Why would anyone ever want to publish a clutter of unpolished projects by a recently deceased author? In an ideal situation, it would be to preserve and better understand the foundation of Adams' talent, and the essentials of his creative process. However, this could be acheived just as well — although less profitably — by storing his unfinished work in an archive, accessible to scholars and determined laypeople alike.

However, it is quite possible that Adams' publisher, agent, and assorted business partners have a real fiscal incentive to plunder and publish everything they can possibly obtain from the author's hard drive. Moreover, they probably have the legal and contractual right to do so.

But until we know that Adams' work was handled with good taste and in accordance with his explicit last wishes, his readers have a duty to seek full disclosure about the terms of the book's publication, and to make our purchases — or boycotts — accordingly.

E-mail James Norton at jrnorton@flakmag.com.