For more Indy coverage, see KaavyaGate.

When Random House executive Steve Ross flatly rejected the apologies offered by Kaavya Viswanathan '08 and Little, Brown, her publisher, for the similarities between Viswanathan's novel How Opal Mehta Got Kissed, Got Wild, and Got a Life and two novels by Megan McCafferty, it was clear that the publishing-industry giant was not willing to let the controversy blow over just yet. It even fanned the flames by upping the documented number of allegedly filched passages from the Crimson's thirteen to 45 (PDF), though some of the new examples seem less forceful than the evidence previously available.

But in 2005, the shoe was on the other foot: according to public court records obtained by the Independent, Random House faced accusations that a book it published — a book delivered to it by the same company that "packaged" Opal Mehta, 17th Street Productions/Alloy Entertainment — willfully plagiarized a text belonging to someone else. And the alleged pattern of plagiarism — including the repetition of minor details, but with trivial alterations — is suggestively reminiscent of the kind of copying discovered in Viswanathan's novel.

Monkey business?

Instead of pitting the author of one book against the author of another, entirely separate book, the dispute involved two drafts of the same children's novel, Blackwell's Island, commissioned from 17th Street by Random House. Random House rejected the first draft, and the writer, Susan Daitch, claimed ownership over it, having never agreed in writing to transfer her rights to 17th Street. She alleged that the rewritten version of the book that was eventually published had a great deal in common with her spurned draft.

For instance, she alleged, her draft includes as "a key plot point...a mysterious key," the head of which is "shaped like a jaguar." In 17th Street's published version, there is also an important and mysterious key. Its head is shaped like a monkey.

In Daitch's manuscript, according to her complaint, the villain Coldbuddy "is accompanied by an animal that lies draped around his neck[:]...a ferret named Pecksniff, a character from Dickens' 'Martin Chuzzlewit.'" In 17th Street's published version, Coldbuddy still has a neck-draping pet — but this one is "a monkey named Tulkinghorn, a character from Dickens' 'Bleak House.'"

17th Street denied Daitch's charges but never rebutted them in much detail. In February 2006, the case was settled out of court. When contacted on Tuesday, Daitch declined to comment on the allegations in the suit, citing a confidentiality clause that was part of the settlement agreement.

At first glance, Daitch seems like an unlikely author to collaborate with a book-packaging company best known for Sweet Valley High and Gossip Girl. Before she wrote her Blackwell's Island manuscript, she wrote two adult novels and a book of short stories. Fellow author David Foster Wallace has called her "one of the most intelligent and attentive writers at work in the U.S. today"; notoriously caustic New York Times book reviewer Michiko Kakutani praised her "observant eye" and her "gift for capturing the hectic rhythms of...downtown Manhattan." But Daitch's books were never best-sellers.

In 2003, she met with 17th Street and, perhaps for the sake of a steadier paycheck, agreed to assist the company with Blackwell's Island. According to Daitch's legal complaint, "17th Street had prepared two draft chapters of the potential book and a rough outline of the remainder." 17th Street contended that it also supplied Daitch with "character sketches" and historical reference materials — the book was to take place in the past on what is now Roosevelt Island in New York City, which was formerly the home of a number of mental asylums, correctional institutions, and hospitals, some of which came under fire from muckraking journalists, including villainous-pet–name inventor Charles Dickens.

Double-take

Daitch reworked 17th Street's preliminary efforts into "a formal proposal for a book" that Random House soon accepted. She then set about writing the novel itself, and after eight months of drafting and revision, she submitted her final manuscript to 17th Street. A seasoned and respected novelist, Daitch was paid $12,500 — 2.5% of the advance that Viswanathan, a complete novice, reportedly earned for her two-book deal.

But when 17th Street showed the manuscript to Random House, the company sent it back, demanding a new draft from the packager — written by a new author. Daitch was dismissed. Her agent told 17th Street that Daitch's manuscript of Blackwell's Island belonged to Daitch and that the packager would have to "consult" with her before using any of the original material that she created. But even though it admitted that Daitch had signed no written contract, 17th Street insisted that Daitch's copyright claims "were without merit." Nonetheless, alleged Daitch, Random House told her in January 2004 that "it intended to have a new manuscript created, authored by a different writer" — presumably without her contributions. But Daitch, apparently still suspicious of 17th Street's plans, took the preemptive step of officially registering her manuscript with the U.S. Copyright Office.

Sure enough, when 17th Street's new version of Blackwell's Island reached the final stages before publication, Daitch learned that its "plot was substantially similar to that of her copyrighted manuscript." She obtained a galley copy of the book from Random House and found many aspects of it all too familiar.

"Those similarities," according to her complaint, "include, but are not limited to, the following":

The impetus for the boy protagonist being shipped off to Blackwell's Island in both books occurs when he fights with the leader of a waterfront kid gang...Both books feature a female lunatic character who knows the whereabouts of the children's missing mother...The boy protagonist's younger sister plays an important role in the escape planned by the three boys when she steals paddles from the Blackwell's Island laundry to use as oars...The descriptions of a failed boat escape in the two books are extremely similar, from the water-logged planks that ultimately sink the home-made escape boat to the younger sister's persistent skepticism concerning the merits of the escape plan.

A history of shady dealings?

Faced with Daitch's accusations of copyright infringement, Random House and 17th Street, according to their answer to the complaint, "took all reasonable steps to prevent any further distribution of" Blackwell's Island, of which "less than 3,500 copies" had been distributed at the time. But they still insisted that Daitch's copyright to her manuscript was invalid and that, even if it was valid, the published version of the book was "not substantitally similar to any protectible elements of [Daitch's] manuscript." And even if it was similar, that similarity inhered in the two texts' common origin: 17th Street's initial concept.

Because the case was eventually settled out of court, neither Daitch's allegations nor 17th Street and Random House's counter-allegations passed through the crucible of a jury trial. Each party's arguments remain, by the very nature of an adversial system of justice, one-sided and biased.

But even if the merits of Daitch's legal position are murky, it seems unlikely that she wholly fabricated the documented similarities between her manuscript and the published book. After all, if the similarities did truly arise from 17th Street's original idea, the book packager could easily prove it in court — presumably, it still possessed the early materials and could juxtapose them with the texts in question. Instead, 17th Street chose to settle confidentially.

To be sure, the situation described in Daitch's lawsuit differs in many ways from the current controversy surrounding Kaavya Viswanathan's alleged plagiarism of Megan McCafferty's novels. McCafferty, of course, never wrote a draft of Opal Mehta, making the shared language harder to justify than in Daitch's case, in which both texts descended — to some extent — from a common ancestor.

And unlike McCafferty, who can issue a j'accuse against the visible and highly promoted Viswanathan instead of the more nebulous and obscure packaging company that shares her Opal Mehta copyright, Daitch seemed to have no such individual to target. The author listed on the cover of Blackwell's Island, Serena Graff, has apparently written nothing else and is not named as a defendant in the lawsuit. In fact, Daitch alleged that the name was a pseudonym; if so, there was no one but 17th Street and, less directly, Random House to blame. Blackwell's Island never received the media attention that Opal Mehta has, and with no obvious "hook," the story of Daitch's suit seems to have gone untold until now.

Did the Opal Mehta packager unscrupulously, if not illegally, copy extensive portions of a manuscript that belonged, whether by right or by copyright, to Susan Daitch? The court records cannot conclusively answer that question, and in light of the confidentiality clause attached to the settlement, none of the parties involved can discuss the case. But while two hazy instances of alleged copying in books packaged by 17th Street cannot convict the company of serial plagiarism in the courts of law or public opinion, they can and do suggest probable cause for suspicion.