An Interview about Intellectual Property

Kat Siddel, an artist and writer from Vancouver B.C., wrote to interview me on a tender subject.

KAT:
So my first question is just a detail that I'm curious about ...

On your site, when you talk about Intellectual Property, you advise people to "avoid making your stuff look like anything from the patterns for Genevieve, Claude, Syd, Jordan and Estelle".

JOHN:
Wow, you don't mess around do you?

KAT:
Why isn't Wronky on the list? (I noticed because Wronky was the first creature I made from the book). Is it because Wronky looks like a rabbit, and is therefore too difficult to claim as an original pattern?

JOHN:
Wronky's not on the list because his shape is so basic. Tubular arms, legs and ears are really not something I think I can copyright. I could copyright my arrangement of those elements, but Wronky's set up in such a normal, symmetrical fashion with his arms, legs and ears all in the regular places. And yes, he's too much of a traditionally accepted bunny or rabbit for me to be particular about copyrighting his design.

As for the intellectual property thing goes, please observe the page towards the front of the book facing the dedication. There is copyright information stating that the patterns are for personal use only, and that other use, especially commercial (selling), is prohibited without written consent from the author. So that's that. If you want to sell sock monsters, please do. Just come up with your own designs (this does not mean rearrange or mixmatch mine). Sure, it might be the work of your hands, but it's not your idea. Get the difference?

Honestly, I'm really glad people like my work enough to emulate it. I move so frequently from defensiveness to gratitude that it's hard to tell really how I feel about people selling my designs as their own. I know I can't stop everyone, but I hope that if people find they've got a creative streak for plush toys that they do the right thing and come up with their own designs. Know what I mean?

I've watched some people start off blatantly selling work from my exact patterns, and even imitating other creatures from my website that have no presence in the book. I think that's incredibly inconsiderate. But as I've watched these people work over time, I've often seen their own styles develop. If I'm simply a stepping stone to others discovering their own talents, then I can accept that. I'll try to be less on edge.


KAT:
That's a great answer.

This tension between inspiring others and receiving credit for your own creative ideas is exactly what I'd like to explore in this article. Making art is such a social thing--it's communicative. We want to share our work and ideas, and inspire others as we have been inspired. Yet, it's also very individual, and personal. It takes time and effort and we feel rightfully possessive of our original ideas.

Add etsy.com and crafter.org to this and it gets very easy to step on people's toes. Your case is obviously pretty cut and dry--you wrote a book, you weren't posting patterns on your blog-- but I think that almost makes it more interesting.

But enough of me talking. Question time again:

1. How many times have you stumbled onto someone selling sock creatures modeled on your designs/photos? How does this usually happen?

JOHN:
Ah, goodness. Quite a few times. Every now and again I'll search online for "sock monsters" or "stupid creatures" or "stupid sock creatures" and see what turns up. Nine times out of ten I'll find an Etsy page of a sullen, power-pop, digi-cam-in-the-mirror teenager who, with embarrassing obviousness bought my book. They'll call 'em "sock dudes" or "stupid monsters" or some variation. I try not to be mean about it. Most of the time these kids haven't seen the copyright notice in the book.

Truth be told, I'm not the only person vigilant of this infringement. The publishing company keeps a watch over who out there is making money off the books they publish. They have a stake in my book too, and I'd hate to be the one whom they pursue with legal action.

Usually these designers go "Whoops!" and take the stuff off their websites. Then I feel kind of guilty and give them that list you mentioned earlier (of techniques of mine to avoid) and try to encourage them to pursue their own plush designs. I'm not the wicked witch of the west. I want every serious designer to know the success they deserve, and if I can help them, I'm more than glad to. You know?

Originality is every artist's golden ticket. Without it, you're just a sham. I don't want anybody to be a sham. Each one of us has a voice and a story and a life experience to share. Why share mine just 'cause you like it? You can't take my life, paint it pink and call it your own, you know?

But every now and again, hooo boy, I find someone who tries to deny they've used my patterns, and insist they have the legal right to keep doing it. That's when the gloves come off and they get a formal cease and desist notice (for starters). I try to be nice, but if you can't play nice in return, I hope your shoes have decent traction 'cause the slope you're on is about to get darned steep. My four years of working my tail off to pay bills and stay fed and these people are just gonna treat me like a paper towel dispenser? No way, pal. Not at all.

KAT:
2. How many people (roughly speaking) have asked you for permission to sell sock creatures?

JOHN:
Goodness, tons. Several times a week I get emails from people asking my permission. They're usually art or design majors, sometimes high schoolers. I thank them for their interest in my work and tell them they've got their whole lives ahead of them to invent new and different things all of their own. I emphasize the importance of originality and encourage them to explore their own imaginations. I always offer a permanent open door to anyone who needs my help, critique or technical and professional knowledge. I've even told people to call me on the phone if they want. I seriously do want to help people find their voice and use it.

I've had nonprofits and other altruistic organizations ask me if they can sell creatures they made from my book at fund raisers. If I'm convinced they're not lying, then I usually say it's okay if it's for a good cause. I just can't take legal action against a group of well-intentioned church ladies trying to put a dent in a parishioner's cancer bill, you know? I'm not a scrooge.

One particular college student wrote me saying she couldn't find a job, and that someone had offered to buy ten of her creatures. She said she just needed to eat. That struck a chord with me in a huge way. I myself started off in 2003, having just lost a job, peddling the creatures shop to shop out in San Francisco just to buy a sandwich. Poverty SUCKS and the fear of starvation or eviction is inhuman. She totally could have been lying, but gosh, if she wasn't, I'd have hated myself for telling her no.

KAT:
3. When you wrote the book, did you anticipate any of this happening?

JOHN:
Well, yes and no. I had that concern when I was offered the book deal. My publishers told me that even if people did start implementing my designs, they'd never be able to make their work look like mine. Evidence shows that either my instructions are extremely well written, or my designs are just that darned easy. I've seen some people's work that looks like I could have made it myself. But at the time I wrote the book, I had nobody's experience as a standard but my publishers', and they said it wouldn't be a problem.

Though definitely present, I consider the copying problem minor in the long run. I have had an amazing experience because of this book and I do not regret writing it. There are more worthy candidates for this kind of opportunity than me. I am grateful and blessed to have what I've been given. The fan mail.. gosh the fact that stupid little me even gets fan mail to begin with, is staggering.

When a ten year old boy from Iceland emails you photos of him with creatures he's made, dang. That's huge. When a mother of 3 small kids makes you a scrapbook of them with their creatures, and their crayoned thank-yous. I'm floored. People are actually thanking me for writing this book. For bringing my creatures into the world. I want to beat myself with a stick and atone for all my wrongs. You know? It makes me want to do better and work harder at everything.

Am I totally off the subject?

KAT:
I think it's very interesting that you brought up the response that people have had to the book. Would you say that people have responded more intensley to the book than to the ready-made creatures?

JOHN:
Yes indeed. But I still get a fair amount of orders for custom jobs and ready mades.


KAT:
(I'm going to wax on about your book for a minute or two--hope you don't mind)

It's funny -- when I was making my sixth creature using your techniques (I branched onto my own variations pretty quickly), I realized how freaking hard socks are to sew with. They fray quickly, and it's really hard to estimate how much the material is going to stretch when you stuff it. It's much easier to sew with normal fabric!

JOHN:
I know, it's wild. Socks are incredibly forgiving as a material. These days I have a harder time getting used to fabric that doesn't stretch, but I have enjoyed branching out.

KAT:
This made me really appreciate--and wonder at--how compelling the book was, given how difficult the materials can be, especially for inexperienced sewers. The directions are very clear, it's true, but I think it's more than that.

Making the sock creatures feels very creatively empowering. I would credit this to the strength of the general aesthetic of the creatures--they're distictive and appealing.

JOHN:
Thank you. That's very gratifying to know.

KAT:
Also, one of the sub-themes of the book is your gradual success as an artist. I think that your story--as it's protrayed in the book--is very inspiring to people.

JOHN:
Wow. Thanks. All this really has been unintentional. I've always loved stuffed animals, but never saw myself designing toys or even being an author. In fact, when the creatures took off for me, I was pursuing a career in freelance illustration. You just never know what the world's gonna like that you have to offer. It could happen to anyone if it can happen to me.

KAT:
Perhaps the problem was that the book was too good. People feel very empowered by it--now, they too can make these incredibly appealing creatures! And now that it's easier than ever to sell handicrafts (partly because of the internet, etsy, etc, and partly because of the genderal trendiness of crafts and indie products) they feel empowered to sell the sock animals.

JOHN:
Well, if they feel empowered to create, fantastic. I'm not opposed to that, in fact I love it. The job market is so odd these days, at least in the states, that the more a person can do for him or herself, the better off they'll be in the long run. Sewing is a survival skill like any other. And if you have a great idea and a business sense, then you'd be wise to consider going pro.

Every artist grows from the inspiration of artists who have gone before. It's like DNA that we get to choose. These days, due to advances in technology, the fast pace of our growing culture, and as you've mentioned before, the availability of opportunity, many artists are growing from the inspiration of their contemporaries. This is how our aesthetic culture is apparently evolving.

But I think there's a difference between revisiting and paying homage to the work of artists who have died and piggybacking on the ideas of someone who is still alive and needs to make a living. At least cover bands admit that they're performing covers. Know what I mean?

KAT:
I should also add--when I showed people the creatures I made from your books, they encouraged me to sell them! I didn't, obviously, but some of them were very insistant, even after I told them about the book.

JOHN:
Well, if your work is distinctive enough, then I won't stand in your way. I wish I were perfectly comfortable opening the floodgates to the rights to my designs. I have considered before that perhaps I'm just a steward for this opportunity, and a conduit for this change in our artistic and economic culture. Perhaps this "career" is not mine to own or to hoard. Perhaps if I just let this go, carte blanche, I'll be rewarded with new opportunities. That suspicion is definitely on a warm burner in my mind, but I'm just not ready to let fly with it. Call me crazy.

KAT:
SO. What do you think of this? Does this theory hold any water?

JOHN:
Sure, your theories are good. Are you interviewing me or presenting a case? I'm enjoying this discourse very much, Kat. I've never been asked so thoroughly about this issue and it's good to really soul search and know how I feel about it. The creatures are an important part of me. They're more than just an idea or a product. They basically helped me survive when I was broke and jobless. I hope the readers of this article will find themselves a bit more informed about my rhymes and reasons, and consider that other artists might feel the same way about their own work.

KAT:
I'm also enjoying this conversation! It's really helping me articulate my thoughts on the the subject.

I think I may take a couple days to look over the stuff you've already sent me, and maybe write a draft. You've already sent me a lot of material, and I don't want to ask a lot of you when I'm not sure how much I can fit in. Most of the articles in Craft run fairly short, and I don't want to take more of your time than necessary.

I will be back in touch though. And if you have any other thoughts on anything we've talked about, please, please send it it my way!