![\"\"](\"https:\/\/blogs.otago.ac.nz\/digital-lit2017\/files\/2017\/10\/imagespoek.jpg\")
<\/a><\/p>\nThe experience of 18th Cadence was one I found extremely thought provoking. Especially questioning what makes someone an author. It was interesting at the end of the eighth workshop to be faced with the idea that I had perhaps written a poem. I did not set out with the goal to write something and so wondered if I could I claim authorship of the final product. Was I partly involved or just a player of someone else\u2019s game?<\/span><\/p>\n I originally approached 18th Cadence with some frustration<\/a>. There seemed too much information, presented across too many tabs, for anything meaningful to emerge in an hour. The first thing that struck me was a moment in 1932 where there was only the phrase, \u201cAll was quiet\u201d. This made me pause and pay closer attention to the types of phrases appearing across the different rooms and decades. I began to pull out moments of sound, arranging these moments in chronological order, leading towards a final moment of silence. What I managed to<\/span> create<\/span><\/a> during the half hour does not follow rules of prose or poetry, nor tell a clear story. However, I found myself enjoying creating something. I chose to limit the sentences, removing context to hopefully draw focus to a sound and its immediate emotional response. Despite me arranging the words, none of them are mine. Can I claim authorship for simply arranging these words? I questioned if this was any more active than making a limerick or poem out of fridge magnets? A key difference to fridge magnet analogy however, is that the base text has its own meaning. Whatever you create works best within that context, or is at least enhanced by the context. I could present what I wrote separately but it would become very interpretive and nonsensical. For my work to only be understandable within the context of 18 Cadence to me suggests I cannot be the author.<\/span><\/p>\n Later, I returned to 18 Cadence and attempted to write<\/span> a poem<\/span><\/a> following the same idea of sound. This time I made a more active attempt to put something together that told a story and followed a form. I did this by including the years, and using each occurrence of the phrase \u201cAll is quiet\u201d as a refrain. In this instance, I felt more like the co-author I expected to be. There was active intent behind my use of the words, and more exploration of the base text. So perhaps authorship in a digital space is about collaboration and active intent? A guest lecture later in the semester also seemed to reflect the ideas. Craig Cliff used other people’s songs to create new poems and narratives. He did so with an active intent and little editing of the base words. He suggested that his role as an author was proportional to how much editing he did after the fact, how much the final text was removed from the base. This concept was incredibly interesting to me, especially because who would consider the editor of a traditional print text the author? These experiences made me consider if the digital narrative world will lead to new concepts and understandings of what makes an author.<\/span><\/p>\n What Makes A Digital Author? The experience of 18th Cadence was one I found extremely thought provoking. Especially questioning what makes someone an author. It was interesting at the end of the eighth workshop to be faced with the idea … Continue reading <\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"