PROLIFIC EVEN IN DEATH
Many authors, it seems, continue to ‘write’ and publish new novels long after they’ve died
There’s a new V.C. Andrews novel coming out June 30, and her fans are counting down the days until they can read it.
Shadows of Foxworth is the final volume in a trilogy marking the 40th anniversary of the publication of Andrews’s first huge bestseller, Flowers in the Attic. That launched a “career” that has now seen the arrival of more than 80 novels under her name, as well as international sales topping 100 million.
Not bad for an author who has been dead for 34 years.
If you check out her publisher’s website, you get this: “One of the most popular authors of all time, V.C. Andrews has been a bestselling phenomenon since the publication of Flowers in the Attic …”
There’s no mention of the fact that when Virginia Andrews died in 1986, she left only seven completed novels, or that her survivors saw a lucrative franchise beckoning and accordingly took action. Hence a ghostwriter named Andrew Neiderman was hired to complete any unfinished works and then continue producing volumes under the Andrews label for decades to come.
It only took a few years for Neiderman to be outed in the media as the actual author of the books. But it took nearly a quarter of a century for publishers to come clean publicly — and even then his name would continue to remain absent from the Andrews books.
So have followers of V.C. Andrews been duped and deceived? A 2014 article on the Buzzfeed website puts it this way: “Though Andrews’ death was not a secret (all the major newspapers carried her obituary) in a pre-internet age it was easy enough to continue publishing books so prolifically that the news of her death might have faded from your memory — if you happened to hear of it all.”
But it’s also reasonable to suggest her readers don’t care — and that’s a reflection of our times. The V.C. Andrews books reflect a culture in which true authorship no longer matters because it’s the brand that counts. Or as Buzzfeed cynically observed, keeping Andrews alive — if only in spirit — was “simply smart business.”
To be sure, ghostwriting in various forms has long been part of the scene. Many celebrities — politicians, sports figures, movie stars — hire professionals to turn their words into gold. There’s some doubt as to whether Donald Trump has ever finished reading a book, including his own Art of the Deal, but it earned him a few more millions once someone else navigated his thoughts into coherent print. Some of these celebrities admit they’ve had help. Others don’t.
Furthermore, some of the past century’s most popular children’s books — many still in print — are products of a syndicate. The Carolyn Keene responsible for the Nancy Drew books never existed. Neither did Hardy Boys author Franklin W. Dixon. Instead, they were inventions of an enormously successful operation founded by a maverick bookman named Edward Stratemeyer. He hired professional writers including Mildred Wirt and Canada’s Leslie Mcfarlane to ensure an ongoing flow of stories featuring the likes of Nancy Drew, the Hardy Boys, the Bobbsey Twins and Tom Swift. These ghostwriters were paid as little as $125 for each book and were legally required to give up all rights and maintain confidentiality.
Another category testifies to the durability of popular fictional characters such as Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes, Ian Fleming’s James Bond and Agatha Christie’s Hercule Poirot. Other authors, writing under their own names, have kept these characters alive for decades after the deaths of their creators.
New Bond thrillers have appeared under several distinguished authorships — among them such award winning novelists as Kingsley Amis, William Boyd, Sebastian Faulks and Anthony Horowitz. The Christie estate has commissioned Sophie Hannah, an established crime writer in her own right, to add new mysteries to the Poirot canon. As for Horowitz, he is also one of many writers who has dusted off Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson and given them new life. In none of these instances has there been an attempt to pass a book off as the product of the original creator, although the U.S. editions of Hannah’s books continue to give top billing to the Christie name.
Meanwhile, the case of V.C. Andrews remains an unsettling example of how the truth can be fudged. And popular literature is a big offender. Ex-jockey Dick Francis won critical plaudits and huge sales for a succession of taut novels with a racing background. It was only after Francis fell silent with the death of his wife that the truth began to emerge about the man whose writing “skills” had garnered countless honours both home and abroad — most notably being named Grandmaster of the Mystery Writers of America. He certainly had the background knowledge to give these thrillers authenticity, but he wasn’t the one in the marriage who wrote them.
Consider, as well, the productive post-mortality careers of Tom Clancy and Robert Ludlum, two novelists of dubious literary talent who reportedly started using “collaborators” while still alive and remain profitable commodities in the wake of their deaths. Clancy hero Jack Ryan and Ludlum’s troubled protagonist, Jason Bourne, are essential to these posthumous money-making machines — their legacies continuing to be celebrated in new books and on the screen.
The continuing flood of novels from these “writers” offers partial transparency. With Clancy, his name in giant letters continues to dominate a book jacket — with far tinier print identifying the various commissioned authors who have actually been writing them.
Members of the legal profession are raising uncomfortable questions. Writing in the University of Arkansas Law Journal, lawyer T.J. Fosko argues that because the goal of ghostwriting is the deception of the consumer, it should be subject to restrictions as a form of false advertising.
(Tom) Clancy hero Jack Ryan and (Robert) Ludlum’s troubled protagonist, Jason Bourne, are essential to these posthumous money-making machines — their legacies continuing to be celebrated in new books and on the screen.