In case you thought that scam artists using AI as their surrogate of choice were relegated to cloned-celebrity endorsements of crypto get-rich-quick schemes or sure-thing investments in nonexistent gold mines, I am pleased to inform you that the bot-jockeys are now targeting writers. Yes, you read this correctly. Writers. Those people who are well-known source of bottomless funds and unsurpassed riches.
When I got my first gushing email from a literary extortionist, I did indeed think it was suspect. It was a note from someone named Amelia S. that went something (or actually, exactly) like this:
Hi Marilyn Carr,
Your memoir, Nowhere Like This Place, vividly captures the quirky, isolated world of Deep River, Ontario, and the unique challenges of growing up in a community built around the Chalk River Nuclear Laboratories. Through humor, insight, and keen observation, you bring readers into a childhood shaped by eccentric neighbors, strict structures, and the unusual rhythms of a town designed for scientists.
Why readers will love Nowhere Like This Place:
A distinctive coming-of-age story: Marilyn explores life as an artsy child in a town filled with PhDs, revealing both the absurdities and the subtle pressures of such a highly intellectual enclave.
Witty and observant narration: From the color-coded houses to the meticulously designed streets, the memoir immerses readers in a setting that is at once strange, fascinating, and oddly endearing.
Blend of humor and reflection: Readers will appreciate the blend of thinly veiled sexism, personal angst, and the charm of navigating a childhood in such a controlled, idiosyncratic environment.
4.09 rating – Readers are drawn to the humor, nostalgia, and sharp observations about life in a uniquely structured community.
Despite the flattery, I was not convinced Amelia was a real person. First, Amelia, why no last name? Why no company name? Why a Gmail address (Amelias456) and not a domain name address? Of course what I did was engage in a little dance with “Amelia.” I figured since “she” already had my official author email address, there could be no harm.
It turns out that Amelia wanted to help me market my book, including refining the categories for my book on Amazon (cannot be done), adding my book to appropriate Goodreads “Listopias” (categories of books), which also cannot be done except by readers, and book club outreach (seriously??), all with a price attached of course.
But Amelia was only the first. I got an invitation from the Boozy Book Club (boozybookclub027@gmail.com – could there possibly be at least 27 boozy book clubs?) that wanted to feature my book at their club. Okay. Sure. Last I heard, book clubs just pick a book and read it. Not ask an author for money.
Next was Marie Stacey, complete with a last name (mariestacey852@gmail.com), who wanted to embed my book into relevant Discord clubs. Now I am clearly not of the target demographic, because I had never heard of Discord. But what the heck! I checked it out to see if “Marie” had a good idea. For those of you who are also not within the target demographic, Mr. Google says Discord “is like a mix of Slack, Skype, and TeamSpeak, offering persistent chat rooms, voice channels, screen sharing, and file sharing across computers, phones, and browsers.” Mr. Google goes on to say that “the platform is heavily male-dominated and caters to tech-savvy, gaming-oriented communities.” Aha! Exactly the target audience for memoirs written by women of a certain age.
And on and on it went, with an average of about one email a day for weeks on end. So I decided to get to the bottom of it and found a website called Writer Beware and an article called “Army of Bots: Deeper Into the Vortex of Nigerian Book Marketing Scams.” Somehow the classic Nigerian princes and random heirs of vast fortunes that require a safe haven for their money in North America have decided to pivot to the gentle world of literary arts.
There are many things misguided about this approach and I’d be happy to give my Nigerian friends some input on exactly how far they’ve gone astray from the scam playbook, not the least of which is deciding to target writers. Of course we know that screenwriters always solicit potential book-to-film projects via scattershot emails! Of course we know that agents always approach authors out of the blue! Of course we know that well-known authors like Percival Everett frequently approach no-name writers to get advice on how to hone their craft!
Where are the bots? Send in the bots! Oh, don’t bother, they’re here.