I opened my email one morning and nearly spit out my hot chocolate. There it was in my inbox—the email every author dreams of getting. An invitation from Terry Gross to be interviewed on NPR's Fresh Air. She had supposedly read Between the Fenceposts: Tales of Mud, Mayhem, and Manure and thought my stories of life on a small farm would make an entertaining interview.
For about half a minute, I was already being interviewed by Terry Gross on NPR's Fresh Air. My biggest concern wasn't what I was going to say. It was what on earth I was going to wear for such a prestigious event.
Like most women, I have a closet full of clothes and nothing to wear. Actually, that's not entirely true. I have a closet full of perfectly good clothes that I've kept for the unlikely event my diet finally pays off and I lose enough weight to wear them again. They're hanging there in hopeful anticipation of the day I can once again button them without holding my breath. I just know someday I'll be glad I didn't donate them to Goodwill. Unfortunately, that didn't solve my immediate problem. Did I own anything that DOES fit me that didn't look like I'd just come in from feeding the chickens?
It was about then that my practical side finally wandered into the conversation. Why was Terry Gross emailing me from a Gmail account? That tiny little detail burst my bubble like a balloon at a porcupine convention.
I went back and read the email more carefully. It was beautifully written and surprisingly flattering. Then it hit me. They hadn't read my book at all. They'd read my recent OpenShelf interview and review instead. The glowing compliments sounded awfully familiar because they were little more than a reworded version of those. Whoever wrote the email had simply stolen OpenShelf's thoughtful observations about my book and presented them as their own. I have to admit, that's a pretty nice compliment to Justin and the OpenShelf team. Apparently, the scammers liked them well enough to plagiarize them.
They had done just enough homework to sound convincing without ever mentioning a single story, a single animal, or even one goat by name. The more I looked, the more obvious it became. Terry Gross wasn't inviting me onto Fresh Air. Some scammer was inviting me to become considerably lighter in the wallet.
A few days later another email arrived. Different sender. Different sales pitch. Same bait. This one came from someone calling herself a "Global Book Marketer & Discoverability Strategist." She assured me my book deserved a much larger audience and offered a complimentary "Book Snapshot" before explaining how she could help me reach thousands of eager readers.
Then came another one. Apparently, my writing career had reached the point where I was attracting professional admirers... all of whom would eventually want me to compensate them.
I never replied to any of them. Not because I was tempted to believe them, but because I knew replying—even to say "SCAM!"—would simply confirm that a real person had opened the email. Instead, I marked each one as spam and let AOL quietly escort them to the digital compost pile. From now on, they'll go there automatically. Then I wandered into the kitchen and raided the refrigerator instead. The leftovers were considerably more trustworthy. Unfortunately, they did nothing for my diet.
Looking back, I'm almost grateful for the experience. Not because Terry Gross never interviewed me. Not because I still haven't found the perfect outfit. And certainly not because those hopeful clothes are still hanging in my closet, patiently waiting for the day my waistline finally decides to cooperate.
No. I'm grateful because in the end, even though I didn't get an interview with Terry Gross, I did get another story. After all, when you're a writer, that's not a bad consolation prize.
Enjoyed this tale from the barnyard?
Don’t miss the next round of critter chaos — to get new stories by email,
just send a note to sandydavis@aol.com
or follow on Facebook.
🐑 If you liked this story, please click one of the small share buttons below instead of copy-paste—it helps folks find their way back here for more tales from the farm.🐓
©2026 Sandy Davis | American Way Farm
No comments:
Post a Comment