Let's start with one of the most absurd statements on the Internet, propagated at places like the misc.writers frequently asked questions site:
"If you post a piece of writing to an electronic bulletin-board (USENET, GEnie, FIDOnet, et al.), or mail it to a generally- accessible mailing list (sf-lovers), you have published it. This means that you cannot sell "first rights" to that manuscript to a magazine, anthology, et cetera. Furthermore, most publishers won't buy secondary rights to a piece that has been published on an electronic network. (Sending E-mail copies of a manuscript out to a few friends and reviewers probably doesn't constitute "publication", but posting definitely does.)"
It's amazing to me how many writers' organizations honestly believe those words have meaning. Now, let's be clear. They aren't talking about an e-mail newsletter, or an Internet magazine distributed entirely over e-mail. Those things are often controlled by an editor, and can and should be considered publication. They are talking about Internet workshops. There are a huge number of places on the 'Net where one can go to discuss writing, and offer writing for peer review and critique. People go to these boards, share their work, and hopefully gain good advice. We have such a board. As I've explained, it is nearly impossible to permanently delete something once it's been placed on the Internet. Therefore, one could say it is legally correct to call such an action "publishing."
Legally correct or not, it's completely insane to consider a workshop "publication," and despite how a struggling writer might feel, the vast majority of editors and publishers are neither insane nor hostile to struggling authors. While it is true that a workshopped piece will remain on the Internet forever, very few people are going to run across it when it's posted, let alone when it's a few years old. Most writing workshopped in such a way is an early draft, and the gems to be found in such workshops are usually buried under reams of stuff that don't warrant another draft. With the huge amount of free, edited reading material available for free on the 'Net, no one will choose to go to a workshop to read the next bestseller. People go to workshops to participate, or to observe.
Anyone familiar with the literary community on the Internet already knows this. So treat it as a given that no e-zine editor will consider workshopping publication. Furthermore, any real publishing house is going to have Internet expertise (and if they don't, they really aren't capable of marketing your manuscript properly, are they?), and you wouldn't post an entire manuscript in a workshop anyway. The only sort of editor likely to be confused about the nature of Internet workshops is the publisher of a small print magazine, with no paid staff. Such an editor might or might not pay money out of their pocket just for the joy of paying writers, and such an editor might or might not understand what an Internet workshop is.
It is so important to realize that even if that editor is a bit afraid of the Internet, he or she is a human being. If you talk to him or her like a human being, you can expect to be treated that way in return. Take the time to explain the situation, and you'll make the person happy. Even if you can't convince him or her to join the 21st Century, he or she will likely ask to see your next story when he or she realizes what a stand-up, ethical author you are. And if an editor isn't inclined to treat ethical people ethically, you have no need to deal with him or her. Publication by an unethical editor is usually not considered very prestigious by those who know the editor is unethical.
While you're focused on the humanity of others, check out Plagiarist.com.
Do you have poetry there? If your works do appear there, the site's managers will not notify you, let alone pay you. Many poems are there illegally.
The really fascinating thing about ethics is that despite the passion with which we demand them, no one can quite determine what they are. Earlier, I used the word civilized, and the managers of Plagiarist.com are perfectly civilized in the way they propagate their unusual and illegal ethics. But, to the best of my knowledge, they follow their ethical code, which is that great poems should be available to everyone, all the time, whether the author agrees or not. You might disagree with their principles. So do I. That's anarchy, baby. They'll keep on doing what they think is right. Your legal recourses against them are nil, and being rude to them will hurt you more than them.
On the other hand, once you've taken that deep breath and reminded yourself that they believe themselves to be in the right, an open discussion of ethics is both relevant and productive (and they've shown themselves willing to openly discuss ethics with polite people). While it's unlikely that you'll convince Plagiarist.com to shut itself down, you may influence others, or even learn from others, if you're into the whole "learning" thing.
There are an awful lot of sites like Plagiarist.com on the 'Net. Not exactly like them—they're the best at what they do—but you'll find a multitude of sites at which the owner has nontraditional, illegal ethics, and lives by said ethics in the basically lawless society of the Internet. Most of these people are not only willing to discuss their ethics with those who disagree in a non-hostile manner, but anxious to. Part of believing you are right is the desire to share your right-ness, and while we can wish both those with traditional and nontraditional ethics were better listeners, most will listen to the civilized.
We will next discuss the truly unethical, the actual plagiarists and wannabe sociopaths that hide in the anonymity of the 'Net. We will discuss how to deal with them. It is vital that you draw a distinction between the unethical and the nontraditionally ethical. If you spend your time attacking sites like Plagiarist.com, you will only hurt your own credibility. Save your battle strength, which is nothing but your name, for those who have no respect for what an author is.
