Scams, and the Scamming Scammers Who Scam

Almost daily, I get emails from earnest-sounding people wanting me to participate in “writers’ forums,” appear on panels, or be the “featured author” at some symposium or another.

A few years ago, the first one came in inviting me to Springfield, Ohio, to be part of a writers’ panel. Well, I have dear friends living very near Springfield, so I started thinking about combining the event with a visit.

Exchanging emails with the sender was a pleasure. Their words were honey. Their motives seemed pure.

But there was a catch.

A $300 entry fee for “admin” purposes. And I had to send it immediately to nail down my spot at the table.

The next day, only two seats remained.

Then there was only one.

They couldn’t hold it much longer.

Hmmm.

Wait. Shouldn’t they be paying me?

Clearly, something was wrong. The old advice to “listen to your gut” rang true. The deeper I investigated, the less legitimate the invitation became. I deleted the emails and blocked the sender.

Then came a virtual flood of similarly enticing offers.

Some were so poorly written I had to laugh. I was addressed as “Meikel” once and, other times, by a completely different name while being congratulated for a book I hadn’t written.

Laughable.

These days, when one of those emails arrives, I usually recognize it for what it is. Delete. Block. Move on.

But this morning brought a new variation.

A supposed literary agency had discovered Witnesses. They wanted to know whether I owned all the rights to it because, they said, the book might be considered for film or television adaptation. Netflix was prominently mentioned.

It was a clever pitch. Anyone familiar with The Chosen could look at Witnesses—stories about ordinary people on the margins of the Gospels—and see why a screen adaptation might not sound completely far-fetched.

And—wouldn’t you know it?—there were only three slots left.

There’s that ticking clock again.

While I’d love to see Stone Thrower and Witnesses adapted for the screen—and I happen to think they’d be pretty darn good at it—I'm fairly certain this isn’t how Hollywood comes knocking.

The names change. The promises get bigger. The scammers get a little more sophisticated. But somewhere along the way, that ticking clock usually appears.

Act now.

Send money.

Only two spots left.

Only one.

Funny how nobody ever seems to run out of those last spots.

Just a little glimpse into the glamorous life of an independent author.

Have a beautiful day, friends.

Mike