Taubman Sucks (the book)

See It Now

Can't wait for the book? Taubman Sucks: The Movie is now online! You can view it at http://www.TaubmanSucks.com/movie.html. It's only six-minutes long, a brief but pleasant diversion for a hot summer's day (or a cold winter's night). Hope you like it!

I've been AARPed!

I don't even have a book contract yet, but my prose is already being torn apart by editors.

Here's what happened.

A few months ago, AARP Magazine featured a small article about revenge, its general import was that thoughts of getting even can become a harmful obsession. I decided that, since revenge is basically the idea behind complaint sites, I might be able to write a letter to the editor to draw some attention to my website – and, hopefully, to my book proposal.

I studied the style of the letters they printed, figured out what length and tone they were looking for, and I set out to write something that they might print. One problem: I didn't think I could mention "TaubmanSucks" by name, that seemed a little strong for their format. But I figured that if I at least mentioned the fact that my complaint site had triggered a lawsuit, people might Google it to see what it was all about.

Anyway, here's what I wrote:

In "This Is Gonna Hurt," Denis Boyles suggests that "getting over" an injustice is often a more rational (and more realistic) approach than "getting even." The Internet age offers another attractive alternative: You can post your complaint on the Web, where it can be read by millions of people. When I felt that I had been abused by a Faceless Corporation, I created a "complaint" website, and promptly got sued for my trouble – but the U.S. Court of Appeals ruled that I had a First Amendment right to voice my electronic opinion. I can testify from personal experience that eRevenge can be a powerfully cathartic experience!

And here's what they printed:

Denis Boyles [Life Etc.] suggests "getting over" an injustice is better than "getting even." I beg to differ. When I had a bad experience with a company, I made a complaint website to vent my anger. E-revenge is very cathartic.

So let's see: I sent them a letter of a little more than 100 words. They cut it down to 40. But of those 40 words, only 20 of them were mine! I don't mind so much that they eviscerated my letter, but I don't understand why they had to make up half of the words that they attributed to me.

Oh well, I guess it's good practice for when I get a real editor...

The TooFarBack Machine

Although I didn't know about the Wayback Machine when I first got sued, it quickly proved to be an invaluable resource once I learned of its existence.

Also known as the "Internet Archive," the Wayback Machine is a service that regularly saves copies of nearly every website on the Internet as a free resource to "researchers, historians, scholars, and the general public." The Wayback Machine allowed me to prove, for example, that my site included links to websites of the stores in the mall before Taubman's own website featured those links. (They were implying that I had copied those links from their site, a contention that the Wayback Machine easily disproved.) It also allowed me to recover information that, lacking the foresight to know that I was going to be sued, I had not saved, important things like the text of my site's original disclaimer and the approximate date on which I had added a link to my girlfriend's site.

I mention all this because I've learned that the folks who run the Wayback Machine are being sued for doing such an outstanding job on what must be an incredibly demanding but richly rewarding (in the non-financial sense) project. It seems that an intellectual property law firm (surprise!) doesn't like the fact that their opponent was able to use the Wayback Machine to gather information from archived copies of their client's website. The law firm isn't complaining that the information was inaccurate or incomplete. They simply don't appreciate the fact that the Wayback Machine has allowed someone to obtain perfectly accurate information about their client.

I guess that some lawyers feel that they can win cases only if their opponents have short memories. Unfortunately for them, the Wayback Machine ensures that our collective memory of what's been on the Internet is damn near photographic.

“The Business of Suing”

As more than a few people have pointed out, instead of suing me Taubman could have taken advantage of an arbitration procedure that not only is considerably less expensive (by several orders of magnitude) but that often favors plaintiffs in cases like these. (Of course, had they done so, not only might they have won the case, they might have deprived me of the opportunity to write a book about how much they suck.)

As evidence of the fact that Taubman should have arbitrated instead of suing me, consider the recent case of AirFranceSucks.com, in which an arbitration panel (in a split decision) awarded that domain name to Air France. Writing for the majority, a panelist said:

"The incorporation of a well known trade mark in its entirety as the first and dominant part of a domain name is confusingly similar to this trade mark regardless of whether the additional elements are pejorative as in this case."

In other words, if your domain name says, for example, "TaubmanSucks," people are likely to confuse your domain name with the Taubman trademark.

(No, I'm not making this up.)

So, with the courts tending to come down on the side of free speech but the arbitrators tending to favor the trademark holders, why did Taubman choose to take me to court? Did they have a quarter of a million dollars that was burning a hole in their pockets? Do they enjoy having their name dragged through the mud in protracted and very public (and, ultimately, unsuccessful) lawsuits?

To shed some light on this puzzle, I'll leave the final words to attorney Doug Sprinkle (representing Taubman) and Judge Danny Boggs, who engaged in this short but instructive exchange at the appeals hearing.

[Judge Boggs] Was there any effort by either party - I don't know whether - who can invoke it - to use the arbitration procedures of ICANN?

[Doug Sprinkle] There wasn't by us, I know that, Your Honor.

[Judge Boggs] Okay. Is there any reason that you didn't? Wouldn't that have gotten it resolved much more quickly?

[Doug Sprinkle] I didn't give it any thought, to be quite honest about it.

[Judge Boggs] I guess you're in the business of suing, not arbitrating.

Making Contact

Two weeks after she sent the proposal to three publishers, Vicki had still not received any responses – and so on Friday morning, she called them all.

Friday's a tricky day to call New York editors, Vicki tells me, because they traditionally work only half a day. (Must be nice.) But she did manage to get through to all of their admins, who promised that the editors would call back later Friday morning or on Monday.

One of them did call back later that day... yes, she had received the proposal... no, she hadn't read it yet... yes, she'd read it over the weekend. Vicki tells me that that's pretty typical, part of her job is to "prod" (nag?) the editors until they actually read the proposals. Today is Tuesday, Vicki still hasn't heard back from the editor. Either she wasn't impressed, or she hasn't read it yet. (I prefer to believe the latter, of course.)

The second editor called back today, Vicki talked to him at length and explained to him why the book will be so exciting (at least, that's what I hope she told him), he promised to read the proposal soon. I guess nagging... I mean prodding... does work.

Haven't heard from the third editor yet.

Vicki warned me that selling the book could take a while. Now I'm starting to see why.

A Decent Proposal

This morning, my agent, Vicki Eisenberg, submitted a book proposal for Taubman Sucks, The Book to three major publishers in New York City. (I'm not trying to be coy, Vicki asked me not to name the publishers.)

I should mention that it feels more than a little strange (and, somehow, more than a little pretentious) to refer to Vicki as "my agent." In fact, it feels strange to refer to anyone as "my agent." I've had two books published, but that was a long time ago, and in both of those cases the publishers approached me. This is the first time I've ever tried to sell a proposal, so it's the first time I've ever needed the services of a literary agent. (Both of my previous books are out of print, by the way, but you can probably track down used copies at Amazon.com. If you snap them up now, you should be able to sell them for huge profits on eBay once I become famous...)

I've known Vicki for many years, but as a friend rather than a literary agent. In fact, she hasn't worked as a full-time agent for some time, I had to coax her out of semi-retirement. (In a surprising and dramatic shift of lifestyle, she semi-abandoned the literary world a few years ago and went into the skatepark business.) When I told Vicki that I wanted to turn my TaubmanSucks.com saga into a book, she considered offering to represent me, but reluctantly passed me along to another agent instead. But when I found that agent to be less than responsive, I shamelessly begged Vicki to reconsider, which she graciously consented to do.

[By the way, Vicki has asked me to mention that that she's not accepting any more new clients. (I guess I'm so demanding that she doesn't want to take a chance on anyone else.) So please don't try to contact her or send her unsolicited proposals or manuscripts. Thanks for your understanding!]

We've spent the last few weeks polishing up my proposal – and finally, as you recall from the opening paragraph, it went out the door to three publishers this morning. The proposals should be on their desks when they return to work from the Memorial Day weekend, rested and eager to discover a promising new author.

I'm so excited I can hardly stand it.

Yes, I realize that the odds are stacked against me. Statistically speaking, Vicki probably won't be able to sell the book. And if she does manage to wrangle up a publisher for me, they may offer me such a pitifully small advance that it would barely be worth my time to undertake such an ambitious (and time-consuming) project.

On the other hand, Vicki may get me a fantastic contract and a fat advance, boosting me up into a far more desirable income bracket and changing my life forever.

Being an inveterate optimist (and having only a tenuous grasp of reality), I'm relatively certain that the rich-and-famous option is the one that's going to happen.

Want to see if I'm right? Come back and visit from time to time, I'll keep you up-to-date about what's going on.