‘Conflattery’: Another author email scam to be aware and wary of

‘Conflattery’: Another author email scam to be aware and wary of

October 20, 2025

Authors constantly being targeted by scammers and their AI bots

If like me you keep opening your inbox to find emails dripping with praise for your books – the latest one I received said I was basically the love child of Elizabeth Gilbert and MacGyver (choke!) – you’ve probably met the latest publishing scam trend, one I’ve named: conflattery.

It’s flattery with a phishing twist: scammers stitch together true snippets from your author bio, Amazon page, website and publicly available knowledge, wrap them in effusive compliments, and dangle an expensive “opportunity” in front of you. Though sometimes, they don’t make any ‘ask’ on the first email, they just try to engage you to reply.

What exactly is conflattery?

Here’s how I define it:
When scammers (often using AI) conflate bits of true information about you with over-the-top flattery to sound credible and sell fake services — such as turning your memoir into a Netflix show, your course into a book, or anything you’ve written into a “bestseller.”

Etymology:
Blend of con + conflate + flattery.

See also:
Phishing, flattery, fiction posing as an expensive opportunity, dodgy awards, author marketing schemes, “we write reviews”

How does conflattery work?

These scammers (or their AI bots) start by scraping a few details about you – maybe your book title, genre, location, or a quote from your blurb. They mix those facts with extravagant praise to make it feel personal.

They recently mashed up commentary on two very different books of mine:

  1. A memoir written about more than a decade of life on a small organic farm with lots of honey and native bees (Honey Farm Dreaming)
  2. My non-fiction book all about how to self-publish and market your book (Look-It’s Your Book!)

Once you’re warmed up, the scammer pivots to the pitch:

“We’d love to adapt your memoir for Netflix – our team can handle the screenplay for just $499!”
or
“We’ve selected your book for our exclusive award — entry fee $200.”

It’s manipulation and plays on author’s dreams, fears and hopes. And they’re improving all the time, but most of these scams still have obvious ‘tells’.

What’s a real-world example of this author scam?

Here’s one that landed in my own inbox, with a very hooky email subject line:

“Anna…be honest, did you write ‘Look, It’s Your Book!?”

Then it fast went downhill with the lack of sincerity and greasiness, saying things including…

“Okay, confession time. I started Look, It’s Your Book! thinking it’d be another “how-to” about publishing, something dry, practical, maybe even a little “corporate energy.” I figured I’d skim a few pages, nod wisely, and move on with my life.

But then… you came in with that no-nonsense Aussie wit, actual empathy, and bee-level industriousness, and suddenly I was three chapters in yelling, “WHY IS THIS WOMAN SO RELATABLE?!”

Seriously, who gave you permission to be this helpful and funny? You’re out here casually dismantling self-publishing myths while making readers feel like they could actually pull this thing off. You should come with a warning label: “May cause excessive motivation and mild panic about not writing faster.”

And your reviews, oh my god. 5.0 stars, every one of them glowing like the halo of a writer who finally figured out metadata. The only thing missing is someone saying, “Anna’s advice saved my marriage and fixed my printer.” Because honestly, I’d believe it.

Also, can we talk about your life for a second? Author, journalist, farm dreamer, bee enthusiast, and solar-oven chef (because of course you are). You’re basically what would happen if Elizabeth Gilbert and MacGyver had a love child who could teach self-publishing workshops.”

And on, and on it went.

Why does conflattery feel tempting/convincing?

Because it’s algorithmically engineered to flatter.

  • It uses real facts, giving the message a ring of truth.
  • It mimics potentially genuine reader enthusiasm (but no one is that effusive!).
  • And it name-drops familiar success tropes (Netflix, bestseller, Hollywood, global distribution, reviews etc).

Writers are naturally hopeful – we love seeing our words reach new audiences – and scammers exploit that optimism.

How can authors spot it fast?

Ask yourself:

  1. Does the praise feel oddly generic yet specific?
    (“Your unique voice and relatable storytelling…” could apply to anyone.)
  2. Are details from different works or genres mixed together?
    Big clue.
  3. Does the tone swing from gush to pitch?
    The moment it moves from admiration to an offer, beware. It might also though pretend to be a genuine fan and not ask for money…but if you respond and they get you on the hook, prepare to be taken advantage of.
  4. Are there fees involved?
    Legitimate agents, producers, and publishers don’t cold-email authors for money. And good book marketers and legitimate reviewers don’t need to either.

What should you do if you receive a dodgy email?

  • Don’t reply. Any engagement confirms your address is active.
  • Delete or block.
  • Screenshot it if you’d like to warn fellow authors or report it to your writers’ association (like the ASA, Writing NSW) and your writing groups etc so they can share it to warn others).
  • Educate others. The more authors who are aware of conflattery, the fewer who’ll fall for it.

Are there legitimate offers that look similar?

Sometimes! Real film producers, journalists or publishers can reach out — but they’ll:

  • Reference specific, verifiable work accurately.
  • Communicate via professional domains (not Gmail or WhatsApp).
  • Never ask for upfront payment.
  • And you’ll likely be able to confirm who they are by looking them up on legitimate sites, seeing how many followers they have etc etc

When in doubt, Google the sender, check scam-alert sites such as Writer Beware and the Alliance of Independent Authors (ALLi) regularly shares news on scams as well as has a list of vetted/trusted organisations. Run it past your writing community too before replying.

A conclusion on conflattery

Authors, consider conflattery your newest entry in the publishing-survival glossary. But remember, real opportunity doesn’t come disguised as garbly gush — and it certainly doesn’t ask for your credit card.