The Death of Lost Manuscripts#

Every once in a while I run across an article that describes how the family of a late author finds, tucked away in a box in the attic or in the back of some forgotten cupboard, a manuscript the author has left behind. Maybe it’s a completed novel that, for whatever reason, the author chose to not submit for publication. Or, maybe it’s an incomplete manuscript that the author started but abandoned. Or, perhaps they started it but met their demise before completing it. Whatever the case may be, the author left behind as part of his or her legacy, this unfinished, unpublished work that the family chooses to complete and publish so that the world benefits from their late family member’s efforts.

Posthumous publication of an author’s work is not uncommon. In fact, quite a number of books have been published by a number quite famous authors: Charles Dickens’ The Mystery of Edwin Drood; Ralph Ellison’s Juneteenth; F. Scott Fitzgerald’s The Last Tycoon; Jane Austen’s Sanditon; Ernest Hemingway’s The Garden of Eden; and the list goes on. There’s probably a Wikipedia page that lists them all, though I didn’t actually bother to look because that’s not really the point of this post.

Of course, the reason that these manuscripts were found in the first place was because they existed in some physical form. The author typed them out on a typewriter, wrote them free-handed in a notebook or legal pad or, in some other way, created a physical document that could be stuffed into the back of their sock drawer awaiting discovery years after their death.

As I was working on another writing project it occurred to me that I was writing in a medium that, while it may certainly live beyond my lifetime, does not lend itself to such posthumous discovery. And, as I thought about this, I realized that this is likely true for most all writers working today.

Think about it: Today almost everyone writes on a computer. Now the thing about a computer is that it is generally locked behind a password. That password, unless the user is careless or takes the time to document it or share it with someone else (which generally is not advisable), is known only to the user. Consequently, whatever work the author puts into an essay, article, short story, etc, will be locked behind that password. And that means that those works will not likely be discoverable!

I’ve written dozens of essays. Most have ended up published on my rarely visited website, but a few have yet to see the light of day. And, of course, they may never, as I deemed them not worthy of publication. And I’ve got quite a few documents that were created for classes or for other purposes that might also be publication worthy but which I’ve chosen to not make public. I imagine that most people who write, either for a living or as an avocation, also have many manuscripts that they’ve begun and abandoned. Perhaps they lost their plot line. Perhaps they didn’t like the direction the story was taking. Perhaps they felt the topic was simply too dry, racy, controversial, (put your list of adjectives here) for publication at the time it was written so they set it aside. The question is: Will these ever see the light of day? Will they ever be published and read by an appreciative audience?

The more I think about this the more upsetting it becomes. How many great works of fiction, or even non-fiction, will be lost forever because they are locked away in some digital locker on an abandoned USB drive or discarded computer because they were inaccessible to others, locked in that digital vault?

The interesting thing to me is that often these ‘found works’ provide greater insight into the mind of the author. Being able to see what they discarded or abandoned or simply chose not to publish provides insight into their values and their thinking. They might provided a richer image of the author. Yet, future generations may not have the same opportunities with respect to today’s authors.

So, the death of the lost manuscript is, if not upon us now, certainly imminent.

To be sure, there are ways around this potential loss. Saving your files to an unencrypted external drive that is not password protected is one way. Using plain text files rather than proprietary formats such as Microsoft Word, makes accessing those files at some unknown future time much easier. And, of course, printing out copies of your work and storing them in a notebook or file cabinet also ensures that your works may be found by your descendants or others.

Now, to be honest, I don’t do any of those things. I do have my files shared across multiple devices, but each is password protected. Why? Mostly because I’m lazy. And, well, I’m not a famous author with a following. And I’m not likely to produce a Pulitzer Prize winning work that finds its way to publication following my death. So, for me, taking the time and effort to ensure that future generations may find my unfinished, unpublished works tucked behind cushions of my favorite easy chair just seems, well, a bit arrogant.

But then again, John Kennedy Toole’s mother (Confederacy of Dunces) found a smeared carbon copy (remember carbon paper???) following Toole’s death and doggedly pursued its publication. So, then again, maybe I do need to look into printing out my work …