I've always prided myself on being an original writer. All my heroes are the ones who didn't necessarily follow the laid out rules, but went after their own dreams, chose their own paths. I try to do the same. I've never wanted to sound like anyone else or remind a reader of someone else. Therefore I work really hard to come up with something new each time that is wholly my own, brand new metaphors, and new ways of expressing myself. It's what I do. So imagine my shocked surprise when I was made aware of accusations, which were never forwarded to me, written on a public forum, about my writings? I was and am flabbergasted by the audacity of such a cruel and malicious act--and by someone I considered a friend. Now perhaps this just goes with the territory. If it does, that's a very sad statement about us as a community of artists.I'd like an apology but it seems unlikely.It happened to me, it can happen to you. Are we really so paranoid and petty? Jesus, I have my own brain, my own thoughts, my own creativity, why in the world would I want someone else's--it doesn't make any sense to me.Do we really think so little of each other's talents? This stinks. It's unfair and untrue and unkind, to say the least. You should be ashamed.
An ex-friend of mine accused quite a few of my other friends of being plagiarists a while back. It took threatening legal action to stop her from wreaking her vengeance on people who somehow didn't measure up to her standards. That is a terrible and dangerous accusation to make, particularly when there is no definitive proof that it is true. I hope, for everyone's sake, that this accusation came from the same ridiculous person and there's not another asshat walking among us. I am sorry that happened to you, Darryl. No one will believe it, and if they do, they're asshats too. xo
I have trouble believing someone who would do this was sober or of relatively sound mind when he or she made the accusations, Darryl. If it's someone familiar to us here on Fictionaut I would be even more troubled and saddened.
You hear about these kinds of things happening, a shark attack, a lightning strike, but you never think it will happen to you--until it does. At first I was good and mad. This person never even gave me the chance to defend myself. But I GOT MY HEAD CLEAR, and I know who I am, and that my art is my art. Mine and mine alone. I feel just like George Harrison defending My Sweet Lord against He's so Fine. They knew good and well that George hadn't tried to copy He's So Fine. Even after he showed them how he wrote the song--step by step--they still fined him. So anyway I'm not mad anymore. It still makes me sad, but you're stuck between a rock and a hard place. I'll just continue to make my art and let that speak for me. Thanks for your support.
Something like this shames the accuser, never the accused, and is especially heinous in the manner it was done. If it was intended to inhibit you, you've certainly brushed that aside with The Missing Letter, one of if not the very finest of yours I've read (in my fledgling poetry experience).
Look at my poem, Revolving Wheel, count the metaphors, all original creations--in one poem! I've got a million ideas for new poems each and every day I'm alive, so many that I have to write them down in notebooks and hope I'll have the time to get to them someday and possibly fashion a new poem from one or more of the fragments. My closets and drawers are crammed full of these books of ideas for future poems. I don't need or want anyone else's, I've got more than enough of my own, and only one lifetime to make something readable out of them. I'm as influenced as anyone by the things I read and see and hear in this world, but it's the world of imagination I am most influenced by.
I steal from others al the time. Story ideas, stories, napkins, loose change. Whatever i can get my hands on. That is the mark of a true author.
On a serious note, count the metaphors, all original creations--in one poem! I've got a million ideas for new poems each and every day I'm alive, so many that I have to write them down in notebooks and hope I'll have the time to get to them someday and possibly fashion a new poem from one or more of the fragments. My closets and drawers are crammed full of these books of ideas for future poems. I don't need or want anyone else's, I've got more than enough of my own, and only one lifetime to make something readable out of them. I'm as influenced as anyone by the things I read and see and hear in this world, but it's the world of imagination I am most influenced by.
Thank you Adam. Bill Yarrow can attest to the notebooks--since I gave him one when he visited my house. I would have written the same thing you did if it weren't me on trial here.It troubles me that people can just make these kinds of stinging accusations against anyone they want and post them without any exchange of meaningful dialogue between parties or even research into whether they are true or not. How about asking the person in question? Pretty simple solution. I've emailed this particular person repeatedly asking for more information, promising to give well founded information in return, all that I have and more, but have received no response so far. It seems odd. This is someone who once championed my work here and elsewhere--and I have the letters to prove it. But I don't want to descend into bitterness, there's enough of that already in the world. I'd just like to know what it is I've done that would cause someone to deliberately harm me or anyone else for that matter without even talking to me about their concerns first. That's about all I've got to say on the matter, folks, but I appreciate the listen.
What she did was criminal. She made up lies about me and posted them on the internet. I don't even know this guy or his work she's talking about. I don't think of her as particularly evil, just incredibly stupid. Nonetheless she has killed me. I will write no more forever. I hate all of my own writings now. I will never write another poem.That Darryl Price is dead.I want to thank you for being my friends in all of this sadness. You have been a good and loyal friend to me, but I'm going to disappear now, because my heart is terribly broken and I don't think it will ever be the same again.I trust no one. There's nothing to believe in now.Only despair that everything is in vain, especially my life and work up to this point.dp
DP-- Did you really write that? No one can have that much power over you unless you let them. That's what the individual wanted, and you're simply handing it to her on a plate. If it's who I think it is, she's a borderline personality who feeds on discord and dissension. Take back your own power and ignore her. You can and should do it. Please, for the rest of us who are uplifted by your astonishing, intelligent, and gentle work, put her cruelty behind you and write, write, write.
I read your comments in the forum about some person charging you with stealing. I have no idea who you are in conflict with or what it is all about.
However, I care about you as a co-sojourner in the plight toward the creative
Hang in there, dear poet. When we write about the beauty of a sunset is it any wonder that we might use similar ideas, metaphors, and phrases? If we are telling the truth about truth and all that which shows truth, then the simple truth is: Ultimately, there will be an overlap of consensus in language and thought. This can be a comfort if we realize we (along with a few others) have found a new Shangri-La. Or, this can be a bane or travesty in the case of feeling that we OWN this knowledge. Who can own the sun? Who can own the sunset? Who can own the recognition of how beautiful is the sunset?
The closer we are to the truth, the more we are changed by that truth. Each person expresses that change in a slightly different way but the general outcomes are related and therefore in relationship to each other, not in conflict or competition with each other. Recently I have come to some new understanding about myself and art and the body of artists.
My words here do not fully give the scope of all my thoughts on these matters. Just know that the good that one does with his writing cannot be stolen. That good can be reflected or imitated but the truth is the truth and we can only be part of it, walk along with it, but never be its owner.
Best wishes in all your endeavors, my friend.
I received a formal apology from her today, admitting her mistake, but my heart is still broken over this whole affair. It really hurt my feelings. I have been writing since the age of five, published since the age of twelve, and it's all come to this distasteful moment. I'm old now--in my body and my soul. My friends are beginning to die. I'd like to be stronger for all of you, but I don't feel strong, I only feel deflated. I don't understand the lure of hateful actions. I've tried to be the opposite, but this has just taken a lot out of me.
Darryl, an apology is not enough and, if this is the same person I'm thinking of, it's time to speak her name because she has done this before and will likely do it again... with disastrous results.
I've read your work for years now and I know that you have an original voice that needs borrow from no one. And for chrissake, don't let her or anyone else silence you out of some dark and hateful motivation.
For someone as thoughtlessly spiteful as this woman has demonstrated she can be, an apology must have required ingesting a huge meal of raw crow. I agree with JLD, it's not enuf, but from her it's as if she handed you her ego on a plate. The fact that she trashed you publicly, tho, requires that she extend that apology in a equally public venue. And I second Joani's plea to you to jump back into the fray with your marvelous poetry. Your sensitive, "astonishing," bravely insightful language heals the souls of those it reaches. Please don't take that from us.
Please do not stop writing, Darryl. I agree with JLD. Don't let anyone silence you, ever.
Darryl, Anyone who reads your work knows it's original. For someone to say otherwise, is, well, I have no idea what makes people do what they do. It's normal to feel upset and undermined by such a specious accusation, but please do not let her words stop you from moving forward with your poems. They're enriching to read.
Well said, Tina. Darryl is one of a kind. A splendid original.
Darryl, I know from reading your work that you are a much stronger person than you are feeling right now. And you know this kind of nonsense comes with the territory, unfortunately. So let your heart break for now but i swear it will mend and I believe deep inside you know that too. That's what an artist must go through. "The fire" as they say.
You would be the first one I could think of who would demand one should never give up. I know you will not!