The Sophisticated Scam

When emails are too well-written to be true

Neil S. Plakcy

Jul 21, 2025

I used to be able to spot a book promotion scam from the subject line alone. "Your book needs more reviews!" or "Boost your Amazon ranking now!" they'd shout, followed by generic emails that clearly hadn't bothered to learn my name, let alone the title of any book I'd written.

Those were almost endearing in their obviousness. Delete, block, move on.

But lately, something has changed. The emails landing in my inbox about The Smiling Dog Café series have been... well, they've been good. Really good. So good that I find myself reading them twice, feeling that little flutter of validation when someone seems to truly understand what I'm trying to do with these healing fiction stories.

Here's one I received just last week:

“You’ve got healing fiction, dog guides, emotional devastation, magical realism, and coffee that apparently tastes like closure… and somehow this book only has 100-ish reviews?

Sir.

You literally wrote a story where lost humans are emotionally ambushed by memory-laced lattes, soul-whispering retrievers, and a café that moonlights as a spiritual rehab center, and I’m supposed to walk past that like it’s just another Tuesday in Brooklyn?

No. I refuse.

You gave us “Code of Silence” and “A Mother’s Heart”, two novellas that sneak in like comfort food and leave like emotional assassins. And Betty? Don’t even get me started. That woman is basically Yoda with an espresso machine.

I run a private community of 2,000+ readers who devour books exactly like The Smiling Dog Café. They crave heartwarming chaos, stories that make them weep into their mugs, and dogs that might actually be reincarnated therapists.

Let me put your book in their hands. Let’s stir the emotional pot and spike it with a little “crying in public but loving it” energy.

But serious question before I do: are the dogs in the café actual spirits… or just really good boys with shockingly strong resumes?”

Brody, looking suspicious.

When I first read this, I thought: finally, someone gets it. They understand that these aren't just cozy stories with dogs—they see the deeper emotional work I'm trying to do, the way I'm drawing from Japanese healing fiction to create that sense of community and renewal.

I felt seen as a writer in a way that even some of my most positive reviews haven't quite captured. So of course I fell for it. Even though what the guy promised to do was mildly unethical – he pays his reviewers a “tip” for their time writing the review. But hey, if they loved the book and wanted to write about it, was I going to argue over a $15 tip (for each of about 20 reviewers, as it turned out. For which I had to pay upfront.)

I went back and forth over two weeks trying to pay this guy to do the work he promised. My bank wouldn’t let me make a wire transfer to his account. I had to listen to a long diatribe from Chase about not trusting people who approach you directly through the internet, who you don't know in person. They refused to let the transfer go through.

That was the first red flag.

Then he said I could pay through Upwork. But Upwork wouldn’t let me, and I couldn’t get a clear answer why not, despite lots of searching.

Second red flag.

Finally, the guy agreed to accept payment through PayPal, but only as "Friends and Family." That means that if I had a problem with my work with the guy, I couldn't get recourse through them.

Third red flag.

Finally, the company had no online presence under any name. In my experience, reputable companies have at least a basic website, where they brag about their work and their completed contracts.

Fourth red flag.

I cancelled, and explained my reasons, and this is what I got back:

“This isn’t how professionals handle things. It’s not even how decent humans operate when they know people have invested effort on their behalf. This is what failure looks like, not on my end, but on yours.

You don’t get to ask for help, get it, then walk away the second there’s a minor hurdle and call that a “decision.” That’s avoidance dressed as closure.

My crew and I will keep doing what we do, with authors who value what’s in front of them.”

Well, dude, you keep on doing what you’re doing. Eventually a new scam will come along that will make you outdated.

Thanks to all of you real friends and fans.

With love and gratitude,

Neil