I wrote Kid America: A Novel of Inheritance and Survival, got it published with Mission Point Press, and feel pretty good about it. I’m anxious to see how it does, and like a lot of happenings in my life, I’m on a perpetual pendulum between great aspirations and overwhelming despondency. It could do great. It could be a flop. Both possibilities are within the realm of possibilities. 

So like anyone who has accomplished something for the first time after years working at it, I’m ambivalent but hopeful…and I hang on every word of encouragement. So, after the start of presales on July 30, when the emails started rolling in from strangers telling me how great the book is and asking if I wanted to be part of a book festival or create a screenplay adaptation or allow them to market the book to great success, I was touched in the ego… for about ten seconds. 

By nature, I’m an optimistic person but inclined toward skepticism about everything. I trust people at their word until they start telling me how great I am. That’s because I know the truth about myself. The worst are those who don’t know me but presume my greatness. Seriously, I think. Do I try to live up to it, or do I quickly dispense with such nonsense? The latter is preferable.

The first email came a few days after Presales began. It asked if I wanted to be part of a major book festival in Scotland, with the opportunity to get my book in front of thousands of people. “Sure,” I said, in my head. I googled the festival and the email sender and lo and behold they existed. I asked for more details. The sender was forthcoming, but it was odd that she never directed me to festival website or even said much about the festival itself. Everything was about how great my book was (she had never read it, of course, since it hadn’t been released yet) and what the festival would offer me (program exposure and an interview). 

What was most odd, though, was that the festival began as we were exchanging emails. When I pointed that out, the sender said, yes, but that’s okay. She would get me in on the tail end. To her credit, when I said, “no thanks,” she said, “okay.” No pressure. No hard sell. 

It turned out the book festival offer was the most benign of all the offers to champion my book I’ve received the last six weeks. Some others were persistent to the point of asking me why I wasn’t responding and didn’t I want to sell my book. The inclination to respond that I had no interest in selling my book was strong but having worked with adolescents all my life I knew such a response would only open a can of worms the size of Pandora’s Box. The emails would never end. I’ve ignored nearly all these types of emails.

As I got more offers, though, I began to see patterns. Here’s what I’ve noticed. First, the senders are real people, often claiming to be part of real organizations (e.g., publishers, marketing firms, book promoters, radio producers [yes, KA would benefit from radio ads, I was told], etc.). Second, the bulk of the emails are a slightly edited version of what my website says about Kid America, with much of the information culled from the Mission Point Press’s press release. Everything is presented, however, as if the sender had come to the descriptions about the novel themselves. And third, the tone of the emails was such that either I’d be nuts to pass up what they’re offering me or their own well-being was contingent on getting my novel into the world. Such interest, such emotion. Like with high praise, overly emotional appeals get my guard up and do not serve the purpose intended.

After getting a few of these emails, I began not only to google the sender and organization but to ask the cyberspace if they are legitimate. Invariably, they—the sender and organization—were legit (real people and real organizations) but red flags were flying all over the place, including on Reddit, writers’ websites, and writing organization sites. Everyone who had lived these experiences before me were saying, yes, these are real people and real organization but the people sending the emails are impostors (A caveat: I’m not suggesting every ‘offer’ email I got was from an impostor. I’m suggesting, however, it appears to be a common practice.). You want to get an idea of how rampant it is, scroll down the Writers Beware website or “The Impersonation List.” There are hundreds of agents and agencies, publishers and imprints, production companies, directors, and producers, and others who names are being used to scam writers and other artists. 

I suspect some of the emails I’ve gotten are from the people they claim to be. They’re fishing, for sure, trying to sell me something, maybe of value, maybe not. Fishing, in this sense, is less insidious than fraud or identity theft. I’m sympathetic to those trying to make a real go of it and offer something of value. I just find it hard to believe what they’re selling when it’s premised on knowing something it is impossible to know at this point. Still, I hope they prescient and right about me and Kid America.