Sure, they might be phishing, but I’m fully willing to let them compliment my talents. Even if they haven’t read a word.
In these waning days of a long, cold winter, sometimes I need a little pick me up. And that’s when I check my email. Hmm… The old Inbox is looking good today. A few samples:
“My name is Anabel Brooks, the curator of the Good Morning America Book Club.
As we prepare our Valentine season reading feature, I wanted to personally reach out. We’re highlighting a select group of authors and introducing their work to our community of over 151,000 engaged readers, and your work stood out during our selection process.”
Well, isn’t that nice. Good Morning America, a top US morning show has discovered little old me. Let’s scroll to my next email, this from one Gilmore Schaffer:
“I’m reaching out because The Granby Liar struck me as the kind of novel that lingers with a reader long after the final chapter—not because it shouts, but because it observes carefully, trusts the intelligence of its audience, and allows tension to unfold with restraint.”
Gilmore is obviously insightful, with discerning taste in elegantly written crime novels. Man, I’m on fire.
“Dear Author Maurice,
My name is Angela Morrettis, and I serve as the Member Relations Lead Coordinator for Lucy’s Book Club, a 4.9★-rated Instagram reading community of over 15,000 engaged readers who meet monthly to read, reflect, and share meaningful conversations around books.
For our January 23 National Reading Day gathering, our members would be excited to read and discuss one of your books. We believe your work would resonate deeply with our audience and spark thoughtful dialogue during the session.”
Wow, 15,000 engaged readers. Throw in a few disengaged readers and my book sales will go through the roof.
“My name is Karin D, and I lead the Wellington City Book Club, the premier literary community based at the iconic Circa Theatre in New Zealand’s capital. I am reaching out because The Granby Liar has been officially shortlisted for our 2026 Author Spotlight.”
Oh my, New Zealand. I had no idea I was an international phenom. I really love it when a reader from the other side of the globe connects to my deep love of Townships storytelling.
Wait, there’s another email from Veronica Clara. I bet she really understands what I’m getting at:
“The way you explore the many layered, sometimes conflicting ideas around tzedakah, its spiritual meaning, its human implications, and its role in wealth, repentance, and redemption is both profound and deeply moving. Your careful comparison of the Babylonian Talmud and the rabbinic compilations of the land of Israel brings a richness and emotional depth that made your work feel incredibly alive and relevant.”
Okay, I wasn’t expecting that.
Welcome to the modern life of the small name author. It seems that when it comes to scams, the con artists are really scraping the bottom of the barrel. It’s enough to make one long for the days of the Nigerian Spam Scam, where a stranger asks if you would give him your banking information so he can move his millions out of the country, and in return he’ll reward you most generously.
Yes, it seems the Nigerian princes have all moved away, your Microsoft Outlook is up to date, and your nephew has gotten his bail money. So now it’s down to the ink-stained wretches to support the online scamosphere. Limited time, get back to us quickly, only a few spots left. You too can be as successful as Louise Penny.
Of course, there’s a flaw in all of this, one that seems to have escaped the keyboard kings of the seedy underbelly of the Internet: YOU’RE TRYING TO GET MONEY OUT OF WRITERS. Toiling in obscurity, that’s kind of our thing, and we have the bank balances to prove it. We work on laptops that are older than our college age children, shivering in our pilled sweaters as we try to stave off the winter chill. A scant few make the big leagues, sparking hope in the rest of us. And there’s a lot of us.
But of course, as writers we aren’t just broke, we’re also suckers for a good compliment. Reading things like “I was struck by the depth of your storytelling,” or that my work “resonates with readers,” really warms the heart.
Thankfully, I have a deep sense of cynicism, honed by years of working as a newspaper reporter and magazine writer. When everyone is out to get you, paranoia is just common sense.
So no, I won’t be part of the Good Morning America Book Club anytime soon. I won’t be the featured author for the 2026 Author Spotlight. But I still might take a shot at comparing the Babylonian Talmud and the rabbinic compilations of the land of Israel. Just dig in, see where it goes.
Time to dust off my Old Testament.