This morning I received an email from a co-chair of Warner Bros. Entertainment. In the subject line of the email, she informed me that she wanted to option the movie rights to one of my books.
The immediate problem? The book won’t be released for another month. It is currently listed on Amazon as a preorder. I haven’t sent out review or ARC copies. Nor do I use so-called “beta readers.” So unless the co-chair of Warner Bros. Entertainment somehow gained access to my personal files, there is no way she could have read the book in question.
The email also came from a Gmail account. Gmail accounts have unfortunately become synonymous with this kind of scam email in recent years. I say “unfortunately” because in the past, Gmail was regarded as one of the more reputable email services.
Scam emails are nothing new on the internet, of course. As far back as the late 1990s, many of us would receive scam emails claiming to represent the Nigerian lottery. All we had to do was forward our banking information so that the lottery officials in Lagos could deposit the amount that we’d won. So easy!
But AI enables internet scammers to personalize their messages. Authors—most of whom have their contact information online—have become salient targets. A scammer can set up an AI agent that scrapes book descriptions from the internet. Then the same AI can craft and send emails that seem semi-legitimate.
I was (very) briefly fooled by one such scam earlier this year. I received a Gmail message from an author in one of the genres in which I write. He claimed to have read one of my books and greatly admired it. In this case the book had been out for a while and found some readership. That was the first element of believability.
The scammer also did not purport to be Stephen King, John Grisham, or another celebrity author well known to the general public. The impersonated author had received some media attention in the United Kingdom, but would generally be unknown to American audiences or people who are not avid readers.
The email, moreover, seemed genuine. The content of the message suggested that its originator had indeed read one of my books and was at least familiar with the basics of the theme and plot.
What did I do? I replied. I thanked the author for having read my book and taking the time to send me an email. I made a vague promise to check out one of his books. I assumed that would be the end of the matter.
But then I received a reply only hours later. The slightly famous author wanted to know details about my writing process. How did I come up with my brilliant ideas, and develop them so beautifully?
At this point, my built-in BS detector went off. On a hunch, I checked the author’s website. The author maintained a blog and his most recent post indicated that someone had been impersonating him and sending out fake emails in his name. So that was that.
When authors are targeted, such frauds are usually long plays. The aim is to gain trust, and then convince the dupe to spend a large sum of money on a specious PR agency or promotional scam—which will inevitably be based in Eastern Europe, the Middle East, or South Asia.
How many authors are fooled by such scams? Well, I replied to one such email once. Spend a week in any writing forum on Facebook, and you’ll spot a post by at least one individual who declares—breathlessly and not nearly dubiously enough—that John Grisham or Stephen King has emailed them to ask them what they’re working on. I suspect that most would-be victims smell a rat before sending money. But phishing scams in general still have a success rate of 2.7 to 5 percent, according to recent statistics.
Once again, it is important to keep in mind how AI has changed the nature of scamming. It is no longer necessary for tricksters to rely on lowest-common-denominator contrivances like overseas lottery claims. A clever scammer can now personalize a phishing scam for each one of us. And with AI, he can do that at scale.
This new landscape of online fraud has affected my behavior. I don’t give my personal email address out to anyone new anymore under any circumstances. When I absolutely must give out an email address as a consumer, I use one of several throwaway accounts that I have developed and set up solely for such purposes.
The email address on my author website likewise is a throwaway account that I use as a buffer. If I determine that an email sent to this account is legitimate, I will then reply via my regular author email address. (Note: I did not reach this stage of trust with the aforementioned scammer who claimed to be the British author.)
And I haven’t even mentioned the most pernicious email scam of all. There are millions of AI agents on the internet that are trying to break into our personal email accounts every minute of every day. Their aim is to use our email accounts to gain access to our banking information. Or—in lieu of that—to use our email accounts to send out more scam emails to more unwary souls.
Which brings us to email marketing. During the initial internet boom of twenty-five years ago, an entire cottage industry developed around email marketing. The B2B and B2C online marketing spaces are filled with claims that email marketing is still just as profitable as it was in 2001 or 2005.
The writing and publishing world is filled with vendors and consultants whose business models are based on email marketing. “Build your mailing list!” they declare, as they attempt to sell you a system for luring potential readers through a labyrinthine email funnel.
If you’re selling or marketing anything legitimately, an email list is probably still worth having and maintaining. But it’s also important to realize that the online environment has changed since 2001 or 2005. I know many adults who have eliminated email entirely, relying instead on their smartphones and text messages (game-changing innovations that did not exist in 2001 or 2005) for all online communications.
When every other email message is a scam, we’re all just a lot more wary of email.
-ET