Today we have The Wild Rose Press author Monica Epstein, discussing song lyrics and their copyright, and her new release, Where There Is Will. This was a really neat post, so I hope you enjoy!
~Mia
May I Have Permission? To Use Song Lyrics, That Is
By Monica Epstein
WHERE THERE IS WILL began as a short story about a
middle-aged woman trying to boost her self-esteem by betting a young man that
she could find twenty songs on her MP3 player that he liked. (Desperate, I know. I think she and I were
going through a midlife crisis at the same time.) Much
of the story involved discussion of contemporary artists and specific songs,
with only a smattering of details that suggested what led to the demise of the
heroine’s self-esteem in the first place.
As the tale evolved into something much bigger than a short
story, music remained an underlying theme. In fact, the original manuscript (then
titled MUSIC SHOWDOWN) had the hero, Will, and the heroine, Michelle,
exchanging an MP3 player back and forth, each sharing songs, specific lyrics
included, that bore significant messages to the other or to their relationship,
which was growing from friendship to love.
So what would it take to gain permission to use song lyrics?
The more I researched, the more I learned it wasn’t feasible
to quote a multitude of songs. But there was one song I didn’t want to let go.
I went as far as applying for copyright permission, figuring that any publisher
taking a chance on a brand new author (me) wasn’t going to foot the bill for
copyright permission. The application included questions like, “How many copies
of the book does your publisher plan to print?”
Publisher? What publisher?
I made up a number.
I also had to include a book synopsis and the context in
which the lyrics were used. That is, I had to submit not only the text that
used the lyrics, but also the page before and the page after the lyrics. I
suppose this ensured that I wasn’t writing anything nasty about the song or I wasn’t
misrepresenting the song in any way, such as claiming a character wrote it.
A few weeks later—much sooner than I expected—I got their
response. For $75 (not an unreasonable cost), I could run a total of 500
copies, both print and e-book combined. Before even considering if I would
settle for so few books, I read the deal breaker: “ebook permissions granted
provided that the document is password protected and available digital rights
management software be embedded to prevent pages from being copied, pasted,
and/or printed.” That requirement was
too limiting.
This story has a happy ending, however. My final rewrite,
the one I did based on the suggestions of my Wild Rose Press editor, took the
story in a new direction—one that made the song lyrics obsolete.
The lyrics might not be in the book, but they’re still on my
iPod. :-)
WHERE THERE IS WILL by Monica
Epstein
Genre: Women’s fiction/Romance
Word count: 88,000
Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
Publication dates: World-wide
release April 11, 2014 (Currently available for Kindle)
Blurb for Where There Is Will...
When she moves to London following her divorce, Michelle
Loeser has no interest in looking for love. She needs to focus on surviving without
her ex’s six-figure income, coping with a severe fear of heights, and
rebuilding her confidence. And if she keeps her promise to her best friend,
she’ll pursue her passion for writing too.
Will Sheridan found his passion early in life. At age eleven,
he was cast in the starring role in a film series. Now, at the age of 25, he’s
a celebrity at a crossroads in his career. He has no time for women who don’t
understand his priorities.
When Will offers to help Michelle acclimate to the
unfamiliar city in exchange for cooking lessons, she figures what’s the harm?
But jealous fans and coworkers, eager paparazzi, and a distrustful mother see
it differently.
Excerpt from Where There Is Will:
Because we had a
product release to the American market fast approaching, I stayed late at the
office, picked up a bite to eat before boarding the Tube, and headed straight
to Caryn’s for mah jongg. I walked into her flat and knew something was wrong
immediately by how quiet my friends were. “What’s happened? Or have you been
talking about Will and me?”
Penny turned to
Amanda, who looked at Caryn.
I settled my gaze
on Caryn. “Well?”
“We have, but
there’s more to it.” Caryn faced Amanda.
“Will you three
stop looking at each other and tell me?”
“I’ll tell because
I saw it,” Amanda volunteered. “I was watching an entertainment news program
while eating dinner.”
Penny snorted. “A
gossip show.”
“Call it what you
like,” Amanda said, “but the point is you and Will were mentioned.”
I brushed my hair
away from my face. “What did they say?”
“They showed a
picture of you and Will entering your flat, and one of him leaving it the
following morning.”
“How could you
tell it was the following morning?”
“The one with both
of you was definitely taken at night. It was dark and the street light was on.
The one of Will alone looked like it was taken in daylight. And he was dressed
the same, so I figured it was the next day.”
I shrugged. “So
what? That’s no worse than the towel picture.”
“There’s more,”
Penny said.
I dropped into a
chair at the table.
Amanda continued.
“They mentioned your name, what you do for a living, where you live and work,
and that you’re a forty-five-year-old divorced American.”
“I won’t be
forty-five until the end of next month,” I corrected, although it wasn’t
important. “How do you think they found all this out about me?”
“I imagine it’s
public record who rents flats where,” Caryn said. “I can call the management
company to see if anyone has inquired about you.”
“Maybe they
followed Will and me. We were together last night. They either saw us at the
restaurant and followed us to my flat, or they had been following Will all
evening—from the studio, to my place, to the restaurant, and back again. Seems
like an awful waste of time.”
“Those pictures
can be worth a lot of money to them,” Amanda pointed out.
“Do you think
someone camped out in front of your flat all night?” Caryn asked.
“That’s a
frightening thought,” Penny said. She gave my arm a comforting pat.
“I think you
should tell Will,” Amanda suggested. “He should be on the lookout for someone
following him.”
“But now someone
could be following Michelle too,” Caryn added.
My stomach was as
tight as an overstretched rubber band. “Will warned me there would be issues if
our relationship was out. He’s always been so careful not to do anything in
public that might be construed as personal.”
“Except for
running around in a towel,” Amanda mumbled.
My glare caused
her to smile. “I was trying to lighten things up a little. And for the record,
I’m glad you gave in to your desires. How was it?”
“Amanda,” Penny
said, “our friend’s private life was revealed on telly, and you want to know
how the sex was?”
“What’s wrong with
that?” She turned to me. “Well?”
“It was wonderful,
fantastic, better than I dreamed of,” I said offhandedly. “But I’d still like
to know how the reporter found out so much about me.”
Caryn put her arm
around my shoulder. “It’s unnerving, but I’m sure you’re not in any danger.
Isn’t that right, ladies?” She turned to the others for backup.
“That’s right.
They’re not out to harm you,” Penny reassured.
Amanda remained
quiet, and Caryn gave her the eye.
“I don’t think
they intend any physical harm,” Amanda began, “but, undoubtedly, there have
been instances where harm has been done by paparazzi.”
“We’re not talking
about blood-thirsty paparazzi,” Caryn growled. “Let’s not scare Michelle. Can
we play now?”
Penny and Amanda
began shuffling the mah jongg tiles. I joined them, but my mind wasn’t on the
game. Now I understood why Will liked to keep his girlfriends out of the public
eye.
I took the Tube
home from Caryn’s like I always did, but this time I was more aware of my
surroundings: the Indian woman dressed in a sari, a cute little girl beside
her; the man wearing the herringbone ivy cap, reading the newspaper; and the
two teenage girls covered in tattoos and piercings, talking too fast for me to
determine what language they were speaking.
As I walked the
short distance to my building, I kept glancing over my shoulder, feeling like
someone was there. By the time I engaged the deadbolt, it felt like someone was
playing the bongos in my chest.
Despite sleeping
alone in my apartment every night without any concerns, tonight I placed a
chair against my front door and kept my phone within easy reach, just in case.
Author Bio:
Monica Epstein writes about topics that appeal to women like
A mother of three, Monica lives in a suburb of Washington, D.C. with her husband, their teenage daughter, and a small collection of hats and fascinators. She dreams of being the Queen of England in her next life.
Connect with Monica:
~*~
Thanks for stopping by!
2 comments:
I know a writer who paid, in her words, "a small fortune" to use the lyrics to a Billy Joel song. It doesn't seem to have helped her sales. And, I know another author who once made the NYT best seller's list who wrote about a song in one of her books. She wrote stuff like: "his voice when he sang about climbing mountains and riding bulls was a sexy as Tim McGraw's" Or "his sexy croon when he sang McGraw's 'Live Like You Were dying' made her fall in love with country music." She was safe from copyright infringement and it didn't cost her a penny. So, I think you made a wise move. :)
I ended up doing a little of what your friend did, but even then it didn't lend much to the story because I couldn't use names of real people either. But the final product is what counts, and I'm pleased with the way it turned out :-)
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