I have a confession. I feel sorry for the scammers and con artists who darken our in-boxes with fictitious offers of publishing success. I want to help them.

Once, I delighted in baiting them, trading jibe techniques with fellow writers, and reading up on ways to piss them off. How long could I keep this fake publisher believing I was on the verge of signing a nonexistent contract? Would that phony famous author engage in a time-sucking dialogue about an imaginary writer’s group?

Each time I heard about a writer who had lost her savings to a sketchy movie deal, or one whose “publisher” had stolen her manuscript, I was motivated anew to upset and irritate the scammers. It was fun to help others taunt the evil-doers, too, and not just other writers.

For instance, my web designer, a tech guy, excitedly forwarded what he said was an offer about my memoir, A Version of the Truth. It came from the acquisitions editor of a Big Five publisher! She wanted to work with me! She was legitimate, he said. He had found her profile on LinkedIn. He thought it would be a great opportunity for me.

I glanced at the offer, dropped everything, and got back to him before he could get into mischief. It’s a trap! (He’s a big Star Wars fan.) Big Five publishers don’t recruit authors, or send messages at 2 a.m., or use generic Gmail email addresses. I suggested he do a deeper dive into that profile of the real acquisition editor. He did, and sure enough, she had posted that she was the victim of identity theft; someone was impersonating her. I encouraged him to confront the faux person with evidence of her nefarious ways, and the taunting torch was passed.

It’s been fun, but as a psychotherapist (I needed a way to earn money while I was writing), little by little, I began to feel the scammers’ pain. True, they make us suffer, but they suffer, too. As we have become more skilled at ferreting out their schemes and scams, their careers have become endless rounds of whack-a-mole. They’re pitted against a population of creative, literate, angry writers. They come at us with a new scam, we catch them, we publicize their gaffes, we mock their desperation, they’re forced to invent yet another baroque scheme, and it all starts again. How frustrating and embarrassing it must be for them. And they’re victims, too!

It can’t be a coincidence that the scams are virtually identical. Clearly there are masterminds running the show. The folks emailing us are merely drones, trapped under harsh fluorescent lights in echoing data centers in Nigeria, Pakistan, the Philippines, and other places where this type of fraud originates.

They needed help, but what could I do?

Then, three fortuitous situations solved the problem. One insulted my intelligence, one insulted my writing, and one gave me the answer. [Note: All names and identifiers in the emails below have been redacted and identities hidden, but the content appears exactly as it was sent and received.]

The first came in the form of a pitch from a scammer impersonating an incredibly famous author whose work has spawned an industry that encompasses books, a movie, and several mighty philanthropic involvements.

Let’s say she wrote a book called Consume Food, Appeal To Deities, and Feel Intense Affection.

From: [Incredibly Famous Author]
Sent: Friday, April 10, 2026 4:55 AM
To: [Me]
Subject: A Creative Conversation?

Dear [Me],

I’m a big fan of your work. Your book A Version of the Truth is such a compelling and emotional read. Your storytelling carries a strong sense of atmosphere and feeling that really draws the reader in. I’m [Incredibly Famous Author] of [Consume Food, Appeal To Deities, and Feel Intense Affection]. My podcast is a space where I speak with fellow creatives about their journeys, the realities of the writing life, and how to overcome fear to find creative courage. Past guests have included inspiring voices like [names of more famous authors].

I’d love to invite you for a relaxed, conversational episode to air on [name of fake podcast]…

The rest of the email was identical to dozens of pitches I’d collected in the “fellow author” long game con. It was a scam that, if I fell for it, could carry a hefty price, and leave me dazed and embarrassed when I learned that the “famous author” had no idea her name was being exploited. The person behind the glowing email was a con artist.

In the past, I would have just put the scammer through some paces (“if you read my book, what was the name of my dog?”), and then enjoyed the process of exposing her as a fraud. This time, though, something shifted. True, I was miffed. This scammer thought I’d believe a world-renown author was sitting around in her jammies and bunny slippers at 5 a.m, sending emails to unknown writers.

But there was a bigger picture. What sad history has caused this hapless con artist to commit identity theft just to make ends meet? It can’t be an easy life. My heart went out to her.

The second incident, closely following the first, shifted me closer to the remedy. Someone can insult my face, my cooking, and my inability to make a left turn across traffic, but they must not disparage my writing, as this scammer did. The email was from a “book visibility and sales strategist.” She sent me the usual pitch, and I responded with my usual challenge: Had she actually read my book?

She replied:

From: [Book Visibility and Sales Strategist]
Sent: Saturday, April 11, 2026 12:14 PM
To: [Me]
Subject: This story lingers because it never gives easy answers

Dear [Me,]

I completely understand your position, and I respect it. So let me speak to it directly.

I have read A Version of the Truth. Not skimmed it, not summarized it through an algorithm, I read it. I am not here to pitch you a package. I am here because this book deserves to find the readers who are already looking for exactly what it offers. If you are open to a conversation, I would welcome it.

Warmly,
[Book Visibility and Sales Strategist ]

Do we have the facts in order? She read it. She did not skim or summarize through an algorithm. She read it. Ready?

From: [Me]
Sent: Saturday, April 11, 2026 2:30 PM
To: [Book Visibility and Sales Strategist]
Subject: RE: This story lingers because it never gives easy answers

Thanks, [Book Visibility and Sales Strategist]. Since you’ve read my book, would you tell me which scene you found most significant?

Thanks,
[Me]

From: [Book Visibility and Sales Strategist]
Sent: Saturday, April 11, 2026 7:47 PM
To: [Me]
Subject: This story lingers because it never gives easy answers

Fair question, and you deserve a straight answer. I have not read [emphasis mine] your book…. [Wait, what?] My role is to act as a bridge, matching the core themes and market potential of a book with the specific interests of my readers.

[Long justification for why, as a promoter, reading an author’s work is “unnecessary.”]

It’s unnecessary? Reading a writer’s work of art, over which the writer has labored for months, sometimes years, is unnecessary? It’s like saying reading War and Peace is unnecessary: It’s about Russia, what more does someone need to know? (Not that I compare myself to Tolstoy.)

I was initially blinded by the cloud of steam issuing from my ears, but when my vision cleared, it was replaced by an image of yet another struggling scammer forced to engage in a life of crime just to make a few bucks.

I was coming closer to an epiphany, and catapulted over the edge with a comment made by Angela Hoy, founder and publisher of Writers Weekly, in WritersWeekly’s May 15 article, “How Angela Got a Facebook Scammer’s 3 Bank Accounts Shut Down.”

She asked the scammer, “Does your mother know what you do for a living? She must be so ashamed of you!”

And there it was. Shame, the great motivator. Having facilitated support groups with felons in jail, and with heroin addicts in treatment programs, I knew that, in the company of others who share a similar history, someone can recover from a life of bad choices, even when their loved ones have abandoned hope, and their parents wonder how such a cute baby could end up, in this case, working in the shadows as a professional swindler.

Clearly, the way forward for our scammers, and a way out of our lives is … a support group! Imagine it. Con artists from all over the world, with their fingers calloused from typing reams of fake promises, with their pasty expressions and thick bifocals attesting to their hours of making us miserable, gathering remotely to help one another change the trajectory of their unhappy lives.

I sent the email below to five scammers: The book marketer, the incredibly famous author, my tech guy’s Big Five acquisitions editor, someone pretending to be a publisher at HarperCollins, and the fake author of a series of children’s books that resulted in a television show.

From: [Me]
Sent: Thursday, June 4, 2026 2:47 PM
To: [Scammer]
Subject: An End to Your Shame

Dear [Scammer],
I feel your pain! What a travesty to your self-esteem, when your CV lists only acts of fraud and deception. But I offer an end to your disgrace. It’s S.C.A.R.E., the Scammers and Con Artists Recovery Experience. In weekly Zoom meetings, you will meet fellow scammers, share heartfelt stories about your life of ignominy, learn coping skills when you are shunned at family gatherings, and when your neighbors cross the street to avoid you. Help is just an email away. Please contact me to discuss the particulars of our recovery packages.

Warmly,
[Me]

In the interest of full disclosure, I admit that, so far, my idea hasn’t been a success. Only the Incredibly Famous Author responded, and she seems to be unclear on my concept.

From: [Incredibly Famous Author]
Sent: Saturday, June 6, 2026 7:26 AM
To: [Me]
Subject: An End to Your Shame

Hi [Me],

It is clear that you are uncomfortable moving forward, and I completely respect your boundaries. I will remove your book from my referral list so we don’t take up any more of your time. I genuinely wish you the best of luck with A Version of the Truth and all of your future writing endeavors.

Best regards,
[Incredibly Famous Author]

With regret, but with no other options, I’ll go back screwing with the scammers. My pleasure in returning the grief they cause will be diminished, now that I know there’s a better way. Still, I believe that, in time, my method will find its way to the vast population of scammers who will want to end their indignity and reach out for succor. I will be waiting.

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• HUH?!?! Author Admits Getting Scammed for $8K, But THEN Tries to Convince ME the Scammer is Real???
• AUTHOR ALMOST LOST $50K!! We Saved an Author from a FAKE “Fox” Movie Deal, Which is Connected to a Known Publishing Scammer! By Angela Hoy and James M. Walsh, Esq.

Marsh Rose is a psychotherapist and freelance writer. Her essays and short stories have appeared in a variety of publications including Cosmopolitan Magazine, Hippocampus, San Francisco Chronicle and others. Her memoir, A Version Of the Truth, was published by Sunbury Press in September and her novel, Escape Routes, was released by Sunbury in 2021. Her website is MarshRoseAuthor.com.

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