A colleague and I applied stylometric methods to the work of the world’s best-selling author, James Patterson, in order to form an impression of how much he contributes to the writing of his co-authored books. The results of the study show that, in each of the collaborative novels (we checked all where there was a relevant sample to test against – where the co-author had written individual texts), the dominant style is that of Patterson’s co-authors. This is quantitative evidence that, when collaborating with a junior party, Patterson’s contributions to the literary process are more concerned with plot than style. This isn’t a “gotcha!” moment: Patterson has always given the impression that he’s more about the plot. But it is confirmation that the world’s bestselling author may not principally be a writer. Read more in The Conversation.
This morning, I was proofreading an introduction that I recently finished, and wanted to share the following passage with the community:
“An analogy which jumps readily to mind can be traced back to a particular exchange at one of the community’s largest annual gatherings, the Digital Humanities Summer Institute, hosted by the University of Victoria, British Columbia. Each year, DHSI instructors welcome participants with an outline of what materials they will be covering throughout the Institute. Typically collegial and informal, this particular welcome session took on a Harry Potter theme, with the majority of instructors promising to teach students new bouts of computational wizardry. When the turn of David Hoover came, there was a change in the theme. Professor Hoover, an eminent figure in the field of computational stylistics, was quick to point out that his participants would not be doing anything magical with computers, but rather, using computers to assist their understanding of the magic that is literature.”
It’s a sentiment which I believe we would all do well to remember as we go about our work as digital humanists.
For a more detailed account of this topic, see the article, “Finn’s Hotel and the Joycean Canon”, which appeared in Issue 14 (Spring 2014) of Genetic Joyce Studies.
Ithys Press controversially published Finn’s Hotel in June 2013, describing the collection as “almost certainly the last unpublished title by James Joyce”. Ithys and Rose contend that the fragments warrant consideration as a standalone collection, the style in which they are written suggesting that such was Joyce’s intention: “The prose pieces of Finn’s Hotel … are written in a unique diversity of styles, much more so than Ulysses. Taken together, they form the true and hitherto unknown precursor to the multi-modulated voices of the Wake—but these first utterings from Finn’s Hotel are far easier to understand.” This view is not unanimously accepted, with some scholars countering that the writings are merely early drafts for what would later become Finnegans Wake, and thus should not be published as an independent addition to the Joycean canon. Terence Killeen notes, in The Irish Times, that “the pieces scream of Finnegans Wake itself”. He states: “It is true that one or two of them did not end up in the final text, but it is quite normal for a writer to draft and then abandon various passages in the initial stages of a major work.”
Star Wars fans with an interest in novels from the franchise will be familiar with the works of Michael Reaves and Steve Perry, authors of Darth Maul: Shadow Hunter and Shadows of the Empire, respectively. Reaves and Perry have also collaborated on a number of books, the most recent being Death Star, published by Del Rey in October 2007. Using the aforementioned single-author novels, I formed an authorial signature of both Reaves and Perry. Then, utilising stylometry’s rolling Delta* method, I analysed their contributions to the text of Death Star.