Hi everyone, what tends to be the rule when using a (deceased) historical character in writing? Is permission needed - in particular with screenwriting? Cheers!
What kind of rule are you looking for? The only one I know that would
count is that you cannot libel a dead person (historical or not).
True. When I was a tabloid writer, we would end up writing anything
about someone who just died. You'll see biographies come out after
someone died making outrageous claims. Not that you should be influenced
by this nonsense. But say what you will.
I would've thought that as long as there's a disclaimer you're golden.
When you say deceased historical "character" - do you mean an actual
person, or a fictional character...? There is a huge difference, as I'm
sure you realize. For instance, God help you if you use Sherlock Holmes
since these works are the cause of near constant litigation here in the
U.S. But Doyle...? Fair game - as long as you don't use his great
detective.
With our extremely litigious society in the U.S., even the deceased's
relatives can go after you for libel. Best to have their heirs "okay"
your work ... or change the names to protect yourself. I'm completing
the first of two books, a biography called The Last Jewish Gangster - a
living person - who I interview in person twice a week. That makes that
part easier since he approves the work. However, we'll run into some
challenges when the publisher's editor jumps in and may have to alter a
few names (most of his references are dead). My additional challenge is
that my "gangster" wants to embarrass some of the people who've wrong
him over the years - so he "turns up the volume" in some of the scenes.
It adds a lot more flavor but it stretches the story/truth. Good luck.
I sat so merry in my abode
Loving hands around me
I dreamt of such glorious days
One day i would see
I remember the day I left
My room
I closed the door behind me
One quick look again
Then walked away
The room which would always remind me
The glorious days I had dreamt
I did merrily spent
How little did I then know
Life turns on a dime
My room is now not as it was
When I closed the door
Behind me
My room now is a prison
But not how one would invision
It is one of sorrow and grief
Sadness burns into the bare walls
I catch my breath
And weep
Why did thou'st doth betray?
The room which once embraced me
I ask with riddled heart
Jagged and torn
Which wicked riddles have I thus sought?
I sit still
I am now my room
No dreams as once before
I age before my open door
In my room long ago
I sat merrily in my loving abode
Loving hands did hold me
All gone
My room and myself
Now one
Two thrust to be together
Forever
Alone