website come up again . “They aren’t entitled to just take whatever the hell they want, Kris. It’s not right. It’s so far from right, it’s sickening.”
www.samhainpublishing.com
39
Shiloh Walker
It made her sick, twisted her gut in a way that was almost physically painful, and for the next little while, at least until her rage passed, she wouldn’t be able to write.
“They aren’t entitled,” Kris said. “I know that. You know that. But we can’t convince them.” The ache in her chest wasn’t letting up, but she hadn’t expected it to do. “There are times, Kris, I swear, there are times when I wish I didn’t do this.”
“Honey, please, please don’t tell me that.”
“Sorry. I’m not going to lie about it. Putting all that time and work into those books and having people just take it makes me feel like shit—and they expect me to be grateful too. That’s like rubbing salt in the wound.”
“I know.”
“Hours, Kris. I spent sometimes twelve, fourteen hours a day writing. I bust my ass on those books. I do contests. I write myself into surgery. Half the time my back forgets its natural shape because of all the time I spend sitting at my damn computer. I spend thousands every fricking year on research, on contests, on promotional crap, on the damn website…” Her voice trailed off and she sighed, resting her forehead against the window.
The most frustrating part of all was that it was a violation, not just a legal one, although that pissed her off too. But this went deeper than that.
These books, she worked so damned hard on them. So hard.
“If I’d known this fight was waiting for me, I don’t know if I would have signed up for this,” Nikki said quietly.
“So you’re going to let the ones who don’t respect you ruin it for you? Ruin it for those millions who do respect you?” Kris said, her voice flat.
“Shit,” Nikki went to shove her hands into her pockets, only to realize the low-slung yoga pants didn’t have pockets. “No. Those readers deserve better. They are the reason I keep going, and you know it.”
“Yes. They’re worth it, baby.”
“Yeah.” Nikki smiled tiredly. “I know.” Then she sighed and shifted around, resting her hips against the windowsill.
“So I just keep sending take-down requests and searching the stupid internet for this crap. I’m a writer, damn it. I’m supposed to be writing, not messing with this.”
“Then don’t,” Kris said. “You can either forward the information to me and we’ll handle it or you could get an assistant to handle it.”
Nikki cringed at idea of an assistant. Somebody in her house. No. No, thanks.
It was a discussion they’d had a hundred times before and would have a hundred times again.
Blowing out a breath, she said, “You know I can’t just ignore it.” She rested her head against the window 40
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No Longer Mine
again, staring outside. “My work, Kris. If I can’t be bothered to protect my work I’ve got no right expecting somebody else to do it. It doesn’t matter if it takes time away from writing or not. I’ll handle it.”
“Honey, plenty of writers in your shoes do let other people take care of this for them. That doesn’t mean they don’t care. It bothers them as much as it bothers you. But you let this get to you, and it gets you depressed and it pisses you off and that interferes with your writing and if you’d just—”
“It’s my work, Kris,” Nikki interrupted, her voice soft but firm. “How other writers choose to handle it when somebody steals from them is their business, but when somebody takes a book I spend months of my life on and just passes it out like it’s nothing, it makes me feel like…like it’s nothing. Like I’m nothing.
Like all the writers are nothing…just automatons out there to create something for people’s amusement.
We do our damnedest to bring them a few hours of pleasure, some entertainment and these
www.samhainpublishing.com
39
Shiloh Walker
It made her sick, twisted her gut in a way that was almost physically painful, and for the next little while, at least until her rage passed, she wouldn’t be able to write.
“They aren’t entitled,” Kris said. “I know that. You know that. But we can’t convince them.” The ache in her chest wasn’t letting up, but she hadn’t expected it to do. “There are times, Kris, I swear, there are times when I wish I didn’t do this.”
“Honey, please, please don’t tell me that.”
“Sorry. I’m not going to lie about it. Putting all that time and work into those books and having people just take it makes me feel like shit—and they expect me to be grateful too. That’s like rubbing salt in the wound.”
“I know.”
“Hours, Kris. I spent sometimes twelve, fourteen hours a day writing. I bust my ass on those books. I do contests. I write myself into surgery. Half the time my back forgets its natural shape because of all the time I spend sitting at my damn computer. I spend thousands every fricking year on research, on contests, on promotional crap, on the damn website…” Her voice trailed off and she sighed, resting her forehead against the window.
The most frustrating part of all was that it was a violation, not just a legal one, although that pissed her off too. But this went deeper than that.
These books, she worked so damned hard on them. So hard.
“If I’d known this fight was waiting for me, I don’t know if I would have signed up for this,” Nikki said quietly.
“So you’re going to let the ones who don’t respect you ruin it for you? Ruin it for those millions who do respect you?” Kris said, her voice flat.
“Shit,” Nikki went to shove her hands into her pockets, only to realize the low-slung yoga pants didn’t have pockets. “No. Those readers deserve better. They are the reason I keep going, and you know it.”
“Yes. They’re worth it, baby.”
“Yeah.” Nikki smiled tiredly. “I know.” Then she sighed and shifted around, resting her hips against the windowsill.
“So I just keep sending take-down requests and searching the stupid internet for this crap. I’m a writer, damn it. I’m supposed to be writing, not messing with this.”
“Then don’t,” Kris said. “You can either forward the information to me and we’ll handle it or you could get an assistant to handle it.”
Nikki cringed at idea of an assistant. Somebody in her house. No. No, thanks.
It was a discussion they’d had a hundred times before and would have a hundred times again.
Blowing out a breath, she said, “You know I can’t just ignore it.” She rested her head against the window 40
www.samhainpublishing.com
No Longer Mine
again, staring outside. “My work, Kris. If I can’t be bothered to protect my work I’ve got no right expecting somebody else to do it. It doesn’t matter if it takes time away from writing or not. I’ll handle it.”
“Honey, plenty of writers in your shoes do let other people take care of this for them. That doesn’t mean they don’t care. It bothers them as much as it bothers you. But you let this get to you, and it gets you depressed and it pisses you off and that interferes with your writing and if you’d just—”
“It’s my work, Kris,” Nikki interrupted, her voice soft but firm. “How other writers choose to handle it when somebody steals from them is their business, but when somebody takes a book I spend months of my life on and just passes it out like it’s nothing, it makes me feel like…like it’s nothing. Like I’m nothing.
Like all the writers are nothing…just automatons out there to create something for people’s amusement.
We do our damnedest to bring them a few hours of pleasure, some entertainment and these
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