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Monday was World Intellectual Property Day 2011.

In honor of that here is a brief description of copyright, courtesy of the US Copyright Office, a division of the Library of Congress.

Copyright … protects original works of authorship including literary, dramatic, musical, and artistic works, such as poetry, novels, movies, songs, computer software, and architecture. Copyright does not protect facts, ideas, systems, or methods of operation, although it may protect the way these things are expressed.

The Copyright Office FAQ answers two key questions: “Your work is under copyright protection the moment it is created and fixed in a tangible form that it is perceptible either directly or with the aid of a machine or device.” [So essentially, you need to write it down or type it up.]

Do you have to register a copyright to be protected? The Copyright Office says “No. In general, registration is voluntary. Copyright exists from the moment the work is created. You will have to register, however, if you wish to bring a lawsuit for infringement of a U.S. work.” [So, the answer is no, but …]

What’s the difference between copyright and trademark? Trademark is the domain of the US Patent Office which describes it this way:

A trademark is a word, name, symbol, or device that is used in trade with goods to indicate the source of the goods and to distinguish them from the goods of others. A servicemark is the same as a trademark except that it identifies and distinguishes the source of a service rather than a product. The terms “trademark and “mark are commonly used to refer to both trademarks and servicemarks.

Trademark rights prevent others from using similar marks that confuse consumers, but it doesn’t prevent others from competing under a different trademark.

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For some reason, as a small child I learned about ghostwriters (from where?  No clue), and instinctively learned to keep away from ghostwritten series.  I could spot one from a mile away.  Other than The Boxcar Children, and a few “horsie” stories here and there, I never read ghostwritten books because even as a kid, I could tell the quality wasn’t there.  I didn’t want to waste my time on something the writer didn’t care about, heart and soul.  So I spent my days reading Avi or Eoin Colfer instead.  And okay, The Boxcar Children too, but I definitely liked the ones written by the original author the best.

To me, something’s missing when a ghostwriter creates something, excluding perhaps autobiographies (I’ve never really read any so I don’t know).  Writing something in six weeks isn’t crafting something.  I won’t deny that it’s skillful, and probably a very interesting job, but it feels…cheap.  Churning out these books with little substance to unknowing children.  I mean, the Babysitter’s Club?  Sweet Valley High?  Barf-worthy.  They are fluff.  There are hundreds of children’s books out there written by the original author that are easy to read but contain…that higher something.

In an effort to explain what I mean by that, when I write fiction, though I rarely do, I’m invested in what I’m writing.  I love the words and the ideas, and I really care about the entire process.  It also takes me ages to write anything.  I could not see myself writing over a hundred pages in a month–I can barely write ten in that time.  But then again, those ten are good, on an amateur writer’s level, that is.  They have passion, and care, and soul.  Ghostwritten books lack that.  The idea is not the writer’s own.  He or she may be interested in the story, or interested in the audience that story will be read by, but I doubt many ghostwriters actually care that much.

When I was a kid, I hungered for quality.  I’m sure most people in our class grew up with the Harry Potter books.  Do you remember how excruciatingly wonderful it was waiting for each one to come out?  I wouldn’t have been that excited about The Babysitter’s Club releasing a new book.  Part of being a kid is that wonderful waiting feeling–the entire week leading up to Christmas, the last few days of school before summer starts, etc.

This is not to say that I’m demeaning a ghostwriter’s job.  I understand entirely taking the job.  I wouldn’t necessarily be opposed to it myself, although I think I’d find it wasn’t a good fit for me.  I’m more opposed to the business of it all.  Sure, making tons of money is awesome, but at the expense of children?  Come on.  Quality over quantity, always.

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Today, when writer-ghostwriter Laura Young came to speak to the class, I was not expecting my perception of the world to be altered forever. Well…that might be an exaggeration. But I was pretty shocked at the concept of ghostwriters for fiction, not to mention increasingly disillusioned every time Young mentioned another series I’ve read that uses ghostwriters.

Though it would be a logical conclusion to come to, I had never even considered that any of the books I’ve read were written by someone other than the name on the cover would indicate. I have always trusted that The Author once did the physical work of typing out what I read.

I am torn about my feelings on ghostwriting fiction. On one hand, I have read and loved books that were apparently ghostwritten; I would still love the book regardless of who actually wrote it, and I would be glad the book exists (whereas it might not have were it not for a team of ghostwriters). But my more immediate, and stronger, response is horror. I am questioning the integrity of every YA series I’ve ever read.

How can one of these authors betray my trust by outsourcing their story to people whose names usually don’t even appear on or in the books? I imagine the feeling is something like what a teacher catching a student plagiarizing would feel, a student who has supposedly written a phenomenal paper and whom the teacher trusts and expects good work from. That the student has used another’s work doesn’t make the paper any less phenomenal. It ruins the trust the teacher (or, the reader) had in that student (or, an author whose name appears on a ghostwritten book).

So I’m glad books that can capture and entertain young minds exist, regardless of who wrote them. And I’m glad these series do their part in making money for the publishing industry. But I sincerely wish I had some warning when a book was ghostwritten, because the ghostwriter deserves credit for doing the work (a book or series is more than a plot!) and because it changes my opinion of the author taking that credit.

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First, let me say that I had no idea ghostwriting could be so successful financially. I also did not realize how much work is actually put into creating a text. I mean I knew ghostwriting took a lot of work, but I did not know how much.

I think Laura Young did a fantastic presentation about book packagers and ghostwriting. There is defiantly more to both than meets the eye. From a previous presentation with Tim Wohlforth, I assumed book packagers just put together books, by providing editorial work, designing the book, and printing the book. I did not realize that they hired writers as well. Truthfully, for book packagers to hire writers of the ghostly/anonymous nature makes sense as book packagers need to carry the workload that publishers have given them. I do not think that the original authors of successful series have the time or energy to produce a fast-paced energetic book every month. Laura mentioned that in her ghostwriting ventures the common turnaround for a book was 6 weeks. I cannot imagine writing a book in 6 weeks. I cannot even imagine finishing a book, as I have tried several times and successfully failed.

However, while I might not be suited for a ghostwriting career, I still think it is a wonderful way for new writers to get into the market. Ghostwriting seems to pay well enough, even though it is a flat rate rather than a percentage of the royalties. It also gives writers the opportunity to adapt to different situations, tones, voices etc…, and it shows future employers/publishers that they (the writers) can work within a deadline. I defiantly think ghostwriting can be a wonderful learning experience, and I might try it someday, but I doubt I will make a career out of it. After all, if I am going to write a masterpiece I would like to have credit for it.