Franz Kafka, on his death bed, asked his best friend Max Brod to burn his work. Brod ignored this request, and because of the denial of Kafka’s dying wish, The Trial was published. This is a story not entirely surprising as we have many writers who publish posthumously. However, this demands attention to be brought to the ethics of posthumous publishing. Do we obey an author’s dying wish? If you write something down, don’t you risk it being read? As a writer, should our biggest fear be our unfinished drafts coming to life, similar to the “Incunks” referenced in Stephen King’s Lisey’s Story (2006), a term given to the scholars or collectors who want every unfinished manuscript, draft, letter, or prose stripped from the author’s cold, dead hands and put on display? If we listened to an author’s orders to destroy their work or chose to not publish their writing after death, the reading world wouldn’t have some of its most beloved classics. Here’s a brief list:
Basically, all of Emily Dickinson’s poems and letters. Dickinson told Lavinia, her sister, to destroy her work after death, to which Lavinia replied, “Nah, I’m good,” and published her collected poems four years after her death in 1890.
The Diary of Anne Frank, (1947) published two years after her death by her father.
Sylvia Plath’s Ariel (1965), despite Ted Hughes’ rearranging and cutting of some poems from the collection, it still won a posthumous Pulitzer Prize.
As someone who is intrigued by the writing world and all things horror, the thought of post-death publishing has crossed my mind. Here are some of the most interesting things I’ve stumbled upon in my research to find a clear answer as to what the ethics are concerning posthumous publishing (spoiler alert: there is no clear answer). Despite this, as a writer, it may not hurt to keep these things in mind for any extreme, unforeseen circumstances.
Getting Work Posthumously Published: How to go About it?
Typically, the writing falls into the hands of the family or the agent. Essentially, from there, they can do as they please because it’s “intellectual estate.” For example, Stieg Larsson did not have a legitimate will, so the rights to his series Millennium Trilogy went to his father and brother instead of his wife. She wanted the rights, so she could publish his writing in a way he would have wanted.
Let’s Talk Royalties: Who Gets the Money?
Some people designate a "literary executor," who would be someone the author felt understood the creative aspects and business side of the work. The literary executor would deal with things like renewing copyrights, licensing movie rights, or designating another author to carry on the legacy. Author’s rights are protected under the laws of testacy, (testacy refers to the condition of leaving a valid will. It is distinguished from intestacy, in which someone dies without leaving a will and their estate passes under state laws of descent and distribution) and would be transferred under terms of a will. Royalties are treated the same as any other property, basically meaning if you pass from this world without a spouse or children, your inheritance net will be broadened to include siblings, aunts, uncles, cousins, and so on.
A Writer’s Reputation: Do We Respect the Dead?
In many cases, posthumous publishing can help bring fame to a deceased author. For example, Henry David Thoreau never knew fame during his lifetime. John Kennedy Toole’s A Confederacy of Dunces was released 11 years after his death and won a Pulitzer Prize for fiction, despite the author constantly getting rejected during his lifetime. But sometimes, first drafts and jotted notes do more harm than good. An example of this refers to Philip Larkin, to which Stuart Kelly of The Times Literary Supplement said, “how can one read ‘what will remain of us is love’ with the knowledge that the same person wrote ‘I want to see them starving / the so-called working class’? Publication after death can taint what was made public in life.” The ethics on respecting writers’ wishes are often argued, such as in Harper Lee’s case with Go Set a Watchman. It’s no secret Lee often stated that To Kill a Mockingbird would be the only book she published. Lee’s sister, Alice, was in control as literary executor, but after her death, that role was assigned to Tonja Carter. Carter was the one who found the manuscript for Go Set a Watchman and had the book published shortly after Alice’s death, who presumably would have some issues with the situation. While an investigation found there to be no elder abuse, some locals argue that Lee was not in the right state of mind to know what she was signing when the book was published. The will was signed eight days prior to Lee’s death in 2016. This controversial subject clearly answers just how unclear the ethics are surrounding death in the publishing world.
Moral of the Story?
As a writer, things like this may be important to keep in mind. The boundaries between ethics are often muddied, especially when money can get involved. The ethics of respecting a request and respecting morality rarely offer a clear, concise answer, which is why it’s important to brace for the extremes. Life is short and unfortunately some things end faster than we could ever imagine. As a writer, words hold such importance, and we often keep those words close to our hearts. Our words will outlive us, and it would be a shame if those words fell out of our hands when we didn’t want them to.