It is hard to be a writer sometimes. Not that I have the oeuvre to really claim this personally, but I think I can safely make this assumption based in part by films I have seen involving typewriters, piles of balled-up papers and ashtrays filled with chain-smoked cigarettes. I can also base this statement on the story below:

Journalist Paul Tolme: “When I traveled to South Dakota in 2005 to write a story about black-footed ferrets, I never imagined my words about the little weasels would one day appear in a trashy romance novel. I just wanted to write an informative and entertaining piece about these endangered prairie carnivores. Three years later my story (”Toughing It Out in the Badlands“) is at the center of 2008’s sexiest plagiarism scandal.”

The scandal involves a novel by prolific romance writer, Cassie Edwards, entitled Shadow Bear. I have included the synopsis below for your convenience:

“South Dakota 1850. Before he died from the Indian arrow that pierced his body while he was hunting gold outside Fort Chance, Shiona Bramlett’s father, the colonel, revealed a shocking secret. Now, armed only with her father’s map and her courage, she’s determined to honor him-and to fulfill her own destiny.

After a fierce prairie fire, Shadow Bear, Chief of the Grey Owl Band of the Lakota tribe, is desperately looking for his missing brother Silent Arrow. His search leads him to a beautiful woman in desperate need of help. Shadow Bear loathes the white man-but he cannot help but protect her. With a passion that is undeniable, they must learn to put their mistrust aside and share their secrets before all is lost.”

Perhaps it was the pressure of maintaining her reputation as a prolific novelist that forced Cassie Edwards into the dark corner of plagiarism? Perhaps it was a deadline? I can only imagine her desperation at the thought of trying to gracefully follow up yet another love scene. What in-the-hell would Shadow Bear and Shiona talk about after their wild tryst in his tipi? And then, like manna from heaven, an answer. After what must have been hours of frantically googling “South Dakota,” she found the topic that would save her from the sloth-like terror of post-coital writer’s block: the black-footed ferret.

Shadow Bear: They are so named because of their dark legs.

Shiona: They are so small, surely weighing only about two pounds and measuring two feet from tip to tail.

Shadow Bear: What I have observed of them, myself, is that these tiny animals breed in early spring when the males roam the night in search of females…Mothers typically give birth to three kits in early summer and raise their young alone in abandoned prairie dog burrows.

Shiona: I read that ferrets stalk and kill prairie dogs during the night. Using their keen sense of smell and whiskers to guide them through pitch-black burrows, ferrets suffocate the sleeping prey, an impressive feat considering the two species are about the same weight.

Shadow Bear: In turn, coyotes, badgers, and owls prey on ferrets, whose life span in the wild is often less than two winters … They have a short, quick life.

When it comes right down to it, I can sympathize with Edwards completely. I remember a 6th grade research paper I did on the Beatles, which may or may not have included some lifted sentences from Encarta. I honestly can’t remember for sure anymore. But I do remember the quiet agony of trying to describe Ringo’s troubled childhood in meaningful-yet-concise sentences before 10pm. I got an ‘A’ on the paper, but it was still really hard.

What I’m trying to say is that Cassie Edwards should be forgiven for her literary faux pas. We all lie and cheat and even steal, whether it be words or post-it notes from the office supply closet. Nobody is without guilt. But on today of all days, Valentine’s Day, I think we should forgive Edwards and remember what she was ultimately trying to do: write about the triumphs and trials of love … and the sweaty, rippling muscles of Lakota warriors.