Wednesday, November 9, 2011

Assassin of Secrets

Its dunces cap time for me.

Eagle-eyed followers of this blog may have noticed that the last item I posted here has vanished overnight. It was a question-and-answer session between myself and Q.R. Markham, the author of a new spy novel, Assassin of Secrets. As is now being widely reported, that novel has been withdrawn by its American publishers, Mullholland, an imprint of Little, Brown. It will also be withdrawn by Mulholland in Britain, on the grounds of plagiarism. As I gave a fulsome blurb for the book (along with a couple of other writers), and a Google search for the authors name brings up this blog, I’ve already been contacted by one newspaper, and I don’t want this to drag out. I would also like to explain how this happened from my vantage point, and make sure that nobody wastes more time on this. Naturally, I’m embarrassed to have fallen for the deception, and wish I’d spotted it sooner.

In May last year, I received an email from someone called Quentin Rowan, a bookseller in New York who had also published poetry in The Best American Poetry of 1996 and a short story in Paris Review. He said he was a fan of spy thrillers and had enjoyed my first novel, Free Agent, which he had liked for its ‘merging of Bond-style action in the field with Le Carre-like behind-the-scenes/HQ intrigue’. He also mentioned that he had a blog about spy fiction, and that he had written a spy novel set in 1968, titled Spy Safari, for which he had an agent who was already seeking a publisher for it. 

I found the email flattering, of course, and thought that Mr Rowan was a very astute young man with excellent taste in spy fiction. The fact that his novel was already represented by a reputable agent also made me think that he was not simply buttering me up to read his unpublishable mess. We exchanged some friendly emails, in which I offered him some advice on the rather nerve-wracking process of waiting for responses from publishers, and soon after I invited him to submit a guest post to this blog, which he did (and which Ive since removed, for reasons that will become clear). Swimming, I thought. Uplifting. The internet: a collegiate place, after all! 

In July, two months after he had first contacted me, Quentin announced that his novel had sold to a major publisher, Little, Brown. He was taking the pseudonym Q.R. Markham – a reference to Robert Markham, the alias used by Kinglsey Amis for his 1968 James Bond novel Colonel Sun and the book would now be titled Assassin of Secrets. Some time after that, he asked if I would like to read the book with a mind to endorsing it if I enjoyed it, and I readily agreed.

I really did enjoy the novel, which seemed to me to combine all the familar tropes I like about spy fiction into one book, but to use some wonderful imagery and language to do so. I gave it the best quote I could, calling it an ‘instant classic’ (I am blushing). I agreed to help him promote the book by doing a question-and-answer session with his publisher for use on their website, which we did a few months ago together in Google Docs. As with the book, I was impressed at Quentin’s knowledge, insights, and command of language. Our exchange was published online just a few days ago.

Yesterday, while perusing a James Bond forum, I noticed that someone had started a discussion about Assassin of Secrets. Initial commenters were impressed by the excerpt on the publisher’s site (as I had been), but one commenter was not, noting that several passages seemed to have been taken verbatim from Licence Renewed, the 1981 James Bond novel by John Gardner. My eyes goggled. Verbatim? Really? I went to my bookshelf and took out Licence Renewed which I should say I haven’t read in several years. And by gum, the commenter was right. It was indeed verbatim. He had changed ‘James Bond’ to ‘Jonathan Chase’, the name of his protagonist, and Ann Reilly, Gardner’s character, to ‘Francesca Farmer’, but otherwise entire sentences were identical: ‘Then he saw her, behind the fountain, a small light, dim but growing to illuminate her as she stood naked but for a thin, translucent nightdress; her hair undone and falling to her waist hair and the thin material moving and blowing as though caught in a silent zephyr.’ The exact same sentence in both books. I took another sentence at random in the chapter, put quote marks around it, and entered it into Google Books. It was verbatim from another Bond novel, Zero Minus Ten, by Raymond Benson, which I haven’t read. Another sentence: verbatim from Second Sight by the American spy novelist Charles McCarry, which I also haven’t read. Another sentence: verbatim from The Prometheus Deception by Robert Ludlum, which I have read, many moons ago. He seemed to have taken most of his action scenes and dialogue from post-Fleming Bond novels (at least six of Gardner’s), and added long poetic descriptions from several of McCarry’s books, as well as the back-story for his protagonist. A bizarre personal playlist of his favourite moments in the genre, I guess, all sewn together with the magic of Controls C and V.

I had hoped that this problem, awful as it was, only affected the opening of the novel, but as I looked into it more I quickly realized that the whole novel was ‘written’ this way I was finding it hard to find sentences that had not been taken verbatim or near-verbatim from other sources. I came across a scene that was, apart from the names of characters and locations, precisely the same as one in Gardner’s For Special Services. Then I found a scene that was, word for word apart from the names, the same as one in Licence Renewed, for six pages straight.

I considered emailing Mr Rowan to ask him what in blue blazes he was thinking, but decided not to waste any more time corresponding with him it would make no difference what excuse he came up with. The evidence was incontrovertible, and it was also rather late in the day for explanations. The novel was due out in Britain this Thursday, and my name and now clearly idiotic recommendation was prominently displayed on the jacket. I immediately emailed the publisher, explaining the situation and giving the example from the Bond message board and all the others I had found, and asking them to remove the Q&A I had done with him from their websites he had of course also plagiarized many of his comments in it, from Dream Time by Geoffrey OBrien, which was also the source for much of his books prologue and to withdraw the book. 

This they have done, and very quickly, as well. I think they acted promptly and professionally, and I don’t attach any blame to them for any of this. It’s embarrassing enough as a Bond fan to admit that I didn’t spot massive lifts from these novels. (And ironic in its way, too, as two repeated topics of this blog have been the literary James Bond and Johann Hari’s plagiarism.) I don’t think it would be reasonable to expect a publisher to check through the thousands of thrillers out there to make sure a book on submission was not a collage of others’ work from start to finish. The idea that anyone would do such a thing never even crossed my mind until last night. I am, of course, embarrassed and irritated at having been duped, as it seems so very very obvious now, and disappointed at having wasted time on supporting someone whose writing I admired, when really it was the writing of John Gardner, Charles McCarry and several others.

I also find the whole thing fairly mind-boggling, and have no idea how Mr Rowan thought he could get away with it. He got rather lucky with me in that, although I’m a huge fan of spy fiction, these days I rarely read it, ironically enough because since starting to write spy novels I don’t like to expose myself too much to others’ takes on it in case some of it rubs off on me and I subconsciously start to echo what I have read elsewhere. I’ve read at least five of the books he plagiarized, but in all cases I did so long enough ago and I’ve read enough other books in the genre that I didn’t recognize the passages taken from them in a new context, even when they were so brazenly stolen. He managed to get it by Little, Brown, Hodder, me and several others (the book had starred reviews from Kirkus and Publishers Weekly), but it’s not as if nobody else has read any James Bond novels or Robert Ludlum, so I don’t really get it. Someone had already noticed from the short excerpt published online. Sooner or later, others would have been reminded of scenes in other books, too, and the game would have been up. Some are now combing through the book trying to find what he plagiarized. I wouldn’t bother it looks to me like pretty much every sentence in it was taken from elsewhere, so you’ll simply be wasting your time.

It’s such a bizarre thing to have done that I can’t fathom the reasons for it. But I do know one thing I won’t be blurbing any more books for a while.

29 comments:

  1. I feel for you. After reading some of the blurbs and positive reviews I bought and read the book and feel duped myself. Although I have to say, I wasn't as taken with it as others who read it. A I read it, it felt extremely cold, canned and without any heart. Not surprising now that it's come to light that it was stitched together like Frankenstein's monster.
    My only hope is that his 15 minutes of fame ends here and he doesn't try and spin it as some type of statement on the state of publishing or some such nonsense.

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  2. Shocking! I am sorry that your generosity of spirit was abused by a plagiarist. Thank you for being so honest and open about the situation, and I hope you can still find the internet "a collegiate place" after all this.

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  3. Please don't shoulder the blame at all, Jeremy, as you've done nothing wrong. I wouldn't be able to spot verbatim passages from my favorite books taken slightly out of context either and I'm guessing that's what the plagiarist was counting on. I hope that this terrible incident doesn't sully your goodwill for too long.

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  4. What a nightmare for you. I've never thought to wonder whether any of the books I've blurbed is plagiarized. Who would?

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  5. Your transparency is to be commended and surpasses your original generosity.

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  6. Ah, where is a dungeon when you need one? Now I understand why God made hell.

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  7. Almost certainly a psych experiment. It could be a very elaborate practical joke, but by Occam's Razor I'd go for psych experiment.

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  8. As painful as this experience no doubt was, it's also fascinating - and makes for a fascinating post now. Thank you for sharing it. I don't think I would have spotted passages from John Gardner books either, not having read them since the early 90s. It easily could have happened to anyone, but it has to be irritating nonetheless. I have to say, though, as a curious party, I kind of wish you HAD emailed him and demanded an explanation! I would really like to hear his excuse.

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  9. That is utterly extraordinary. You must feel awful, but really, as others have said, you're in no way to blame, Jeremy. It's such an outlandish hoax (for want of a better word) that it would be unthinkable anyone would even attempt it, and that you'd therefore be on guard against it. Bizarre.

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  10. I don't think you should feel uncomfortable at all. You took him at face value.

    My mind boggles at the amount of time this must have taken him..

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  11. Thank you for writing this explanation. Like other commentors, and like you, I would have enjoyed reading something which 'ticked the boxes' in terms of content and style, and it would not occur to me to wonder why (poor memory for specific lines, in my case)they were doing so - nor to assume it was such a con.

    I also avoid reading things in case they rub off & become part of my 'voice' without my realising it.

    I'm intrigued to know who this 'author' was, and whether he's written other work; but perhaps that is the kind of thing best 'imagined' in another novel about plagiarism or stolen manuscripts (of which there are plenty).

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  12. Let's try this in music terms. He made a mashup and you thought it was an "Instant Classic". He didn't tell you it was a mashup but that doesn't matter because you didn't recognize the samples to begin with when you heard and enjoyed it. Now that someone has pointed out the samples and you know it's a mashup, you don't want it to be heard.

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  13. what a lot of work it must have been to write a book that way--taking lines from various novels. not only is it stupid, immoral and wrong, but sounds far more arduous than just writing the damn thing himself.

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  14. I don't think that analogy really holds water, McSey. The point of a mashup is the illicit thrill of recognition of two usually well-known tracks, put together in a striking and sometimes creative manner. What Markham – or rather Rowan; he doesn't deserve the same pseudonymous surname as Kingsley Amis – has done is deliberately pass off other writers' work as his own – a LOT of other writers.

    I guess you could see it as a bizarre situationist prank – it's the kind of thing that would be amusing if posted online and then admitted to – but to hoodwink Jeremy – and the novel's publisher, and its readers – in the way he did just leaves a bad taste in the mouth.

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  15. Absolutely, Nick (if I may be so familiar; this is the internet after all). You go into a mashup knowing its a Frankenstein song. That's part of the fun.

    In fact, if Markham had published the novel as a mash-up, it would have been a fascinating experiment and commentary on the genre. Could he stitch together disparate parts and make it a coherent, interesting story?

    Instead, he tried to pass off others' work as his own, and got caught. Which tells me a) he must have spent a huge amount of time and effort to play with the cut and paste, and b) he was really, really stupid to expect people not to know.

    (And, if my vote matters, coming clean should be cause for what little forgiveness needs to be extended. At least you had the good taste to recognize good prose, even if heavily mixed, like discerning that filet was used in beef stew.)

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  16. Quite right, Bill – I'll be equally familiar, if you don't mind! On reflection, one couldn't even make an analogy with sampling. Even there, a person may not recognise where a sample's come from, but you almost always know it IS a sample. The Beastie Boys' 'Paul's Boutique' is a masterpiece, using a gajillion samples across its length, but in each case, it's obvious that a sample is a sample.

    Plus, these days, samples are cleared and the original artists get to see some cash. Somehow, I doubt Rowan cleared his "samples" with the Fleming estate...

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  17. My sympathies, Jeremy. I congratulate you for your diplomatic handling of a very sticky situation.

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  18. Thanks for giving us the inside story, Jeffery. But there's no way you would have been expected to catch this. Big reviewers didn't flag it. They starred it.

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  19. Mr. Duns, as has been said, your acknowledgement of your own unwitting part in this debacle puts you head and shoulders over anyone else (read: everyone else) in this internet-burnin' debate. This is a true bummer all around, I'd say, but you are certainly not culpable in any of it.

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  20. I agree, no blame attaches to you, or to anyone else who was taken in by this fraud. What upsets me is that time and money were spent editing and publishing a book that can't be sold. These resources could have gone to a more deserving, original writer instead of wasted on someone who hasn't earned them.

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  21. What a very peculiar story.

    I've had just that experience - of thinking "interesting argument, well put - this person can really write!" only to discover that the whole thing's plagiarised. But I'm an academic, and we expect it (sadly).

    This story is almost a contradiction in terms: you'd have to be pretty bright (as well as dedicated) to make it work in the first place, but you'd have to be pretty stupid to think nobody would spot it (I particularly like the detail that he used plagiarism in the Q&A). Weird.

    I wouldn't feel too bad about falling for it yourself, though - authors aren't fans.

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  22. Don't beat yourself up too much. It could have happened to any of us and you are not to blame. You were just trying to help a fellow spy writer and he abused your generosity.
    I'm just upset he didn't lift anything from Dead Spy Running! (Or perhaps he has - I haven't checked...)
    Best, Jon

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  23. Thanks for the kind words, everyone. Apart from The Other McSey, perhaps, who I would invite to read this:

    http://jeremyduns.blogspot.com/2011/11/highway-robbery-mask-of-knowing-in.html

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  24. Please don't be embarrassed - this collection of unattributed quotes made it past many presumed gatekeepers before it ever got to you.

    I just hope that the public remembers that blame rests squarely on the head of the sociopath who perpetrated this hoax. And I agree with Jordan Stoen - it's a damned shame that a slot in the publisher's rotation was used up like this.

    On to more pleasant thoughts: Puppies! Raindrops on roses! Exotic assassination techniques!

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  25. He possibly only did this to get his name out there, while simultaneously working on his real book, a much subtler but richer work about a suicidal writer who successful launches his career by pranking the literary world. After the smoke clears (1 year, maybe 2?), he will publish this book under his own name, to much acclaim. It's a good plan.

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  26. I think it's interesting that the pseudonym he chose was Markham. If memory serves, Robert Markham was the name Kingsley Amis used to publish the first non-Fleming Bond, Colonel Sun.

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  27. It was, as mentioned by Nick above. Rowan told me that he picked the name as a tip of the hat to Colonel Sun. I said 'great!' This didn't ring any alarm bells with me: Assassin of Secrets was a spy thriller set in the Sixties, and I was very aware it was Bond-*ish* - I just didn't realize a lot of it was straight from Bond! But it's set in 1968, and about an American secret agent called Jonathan Chase battling a villainous organization called Zero Directorate. So the nod to a late 60s (and somewhat overlooked) Bond novel seemed appropriate. I wasn't a fan of the title, which seemed very generic, but that may have been his publisher who suggested that.

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  28. Whoops! Sorry I missed Nick's mention of my same point.

    What a bizarre episode this whole thing is. I'm just finding out about it and it makes for fascinating reading all by itself.

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  29. Thank you for this post and for sharing your experiences. I too am baffled about why a person would do this, but I doubt I'll be picking up his memoir to find out.

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