
Stephenie Meyer and Vladimir Nabokov might not seem to have much in common.
The former is a 34-year-old Mormon housewife-turned-author who (at a rather rapid rate) writes best-selling vampire romances for young adults. The latter died in 1977 at the age of 78 as one of the century's greatest novelists, a master stylist whose carefully written books are known for their elaborate wordplay.
Events that had the literary world buzzing the past few months have made strange bedfellows out of these two: In both cases, their wishes about their work have been disregarded, raising thorny questions about the ethics of publishing unfinished manuscripts.
Mrs. Meyer's four-book series about a teenage girl torn between a vampire and a werewolf, which has many adult fans, is known as "The Twilight Saga." The last installment, "Breaking Dawn," was published last month and sold more than 1.3 million copies the first day. The writer will become even better known when the movie of the series' first book, "Twilight," reaches theaters in November.
She had been working on "Midnight Sun," a companion novel to "Twilight" that told its events from the perspective of a different character. Late last month, an uncompleted draft appeared on dozens of Web sites. The author was not pleased.
"I think it is important for everybody to understand that what happened was a huge violation of my rights as an author, not to mention me as a human being," she wrote in a hurt note on her Web site.
Such leaks have happened before in the Internet age, though it's usually music tracks that are being stolen. What was unprecedented was Mrs. Meyer's reaction to it. "I feel too sad about what has happened to continue working on 'Midnight Sun,' and so it is on hold indefinitely," she wrote.
The radical decision, which probably cost the author millions, disappointed many fans who were looking forward to the book.
We'll never know just what Mr. Nabokov would have said about his unfinished work being published. It's unlikely his reaction would have been any less severe.
He was working on "The Original of Laura" during his final months; he said the novel was "completed in my mind," but he didn't live to get it all out on paper. He composed on small index cards and had handwritten 138 of them - about 30 manuscript pages. The perfectionist with exacting standards told his family to burn the cards on his death.
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