Author Beware - Yeah, they tried to scam me

First, let me start by saying that I didn’t get scammed. They tried, but since this is one I haven’t heard of I thought I would share. Especially for authors out there that may not work in film as I do.  I did some research and found out this was happening more so two years ago, but now it’s back.

It started with an email.

An email came to the account I use for my amazon KDP, not my public email. It was from some director interested in talking to me about movie rights to one of my books. I looked up this director, Peter Andrews. The email looked legit, he had links to his IMDB, etc. So I replied, saying I was interested in what he had to tell me.

He replied the next day, which scammers are usually waiting for you to reach for the hook. He said it would be better to talk on the phone. We set up a call time and I gave him my work number.

I get a call, right on time from a man that identified himself as John Greene. He said hw was an acquisition agent with Amazon Prime. He was looking at my catalog and was interested in acquiring movie rights to My Dead World.

“Ok.” And that was what I said in a confused sort of way. “Ok.”

“Now Mr. Andrews is ready to pitch this to our team of investors next Thursday.”

“Ok.”

“Now are you familiar with how the process works, getting investors, pre production?” he asked.

“I’m a filmmaker.”

“Great! So I don’t have to explain all this to you. Now we’re prepared to offer you 400k for rights to the series.”

“Hmm.”

“What?” he asked.

“That seems a little high, ok, just go on.”

He did and asked if he could send me a test email. I told him yes and which email to send it. When asked if I received it, I said yes. This is what I got.

“What do you need from me?” I questioned.

“We need a treatment and a concept trailer, which is a high quality pitch to—”

“Yes,” I cut him off. “I know what it is. I see this company listed in the email. Creative Films.”

“Yes, they are willing and ready to do the trailer for you. That’s what they do.”

“How much?”

After going back and forth he told me, “Five grand.”

“John, why would I give Creative Films five grand for something I can do. I have access to the best equipment, filmmakers and editors in the country. I’ll do it. Send me the specs, I’ll handle it.”

Silence.

He gathered himself and chipper said, “I’ll talk to Mr. Andrews. I don’t see that as a problem and I’ll get back to you tomorrow.”

He never did.

Apparently, I learned this is a way to take advantage of authors. Sort of like those publishers who charged ten grand to edit and do a cover for a book that sells ten copies, promising the moon.

I suspected it was a scam, but knew when he said the amount for film rights. How many others wouldn’t know and would be so excited for an opportunity. Shame on Creative Films for taking such a dubious approach. If a film producer is really interested in your work, I won’t dismiss that they won’t email you if you’re self published, but chances are, they aren’t going to pump sunshine with a high offer up your butt before asking for money from you.

Tale of Three Turkeys

 Nothing says Thanksgiving more than holiday visits with family and friendly sibling competition, especially when they don’t know they are competing.

This year 75% of my kids held their own Thanksgiving Dinners. Three out of four in case you don’t know how many offspring I have. The lone non-cooker, was happy just to not cook.  I decided that during the course of my holiday I would go to every child’s home and have their dinner. It was the morning of that I created a score sheet. Why not? It would be fun.

Upon finding out that my first former husband was doing the same, I figured we’d compare notes.

I went to Drew’s home first, he went to Roni’s home first, we switched and met up at Noah's.

When they found out we were secretly voting, the competition began. They wished they knew ahead of time, but what would be the fun in that?

I preselected my scoring criteria and off I went.

Three houses. Three Turkeys. All prepared three different ways. Deep fried, roasted and smoked.

Off I went.

First stop, my son Drew. Let’s start by saying that 75% of my children cook well, the final 25% can care less, but I am willing to bet in ten years she’s on Top Chef. Okay, maybe not.

Drew had just purchased his first home with his family a month ago. So I knew this would mean a lot to him. He wanted to deep fry the bird and spent more money getting the things he needed than he did on the turkey.

I had deep fried turkey once before  and was not impressed. The worrisome mother in me was frantic about my son working with a vat of hot oil. So fearful of him catching himself on fire, I sent him an article on what NOT to do when deep frying a turkey.

It was quiet at his house, just him, Gina, their kids and Gina’s mom. He and Gina were working together to get the food out. Drew proudly boasted that deep fryer and the fact he hadn’t caught himself or anything else on fire. It looked good in there. Golden brown, and after pulling it out, he basted it in the final touch of some butter coating.

I thought maybe I had the advantage of having the turkey fresh, but it was the best tasting, juiciest turkey I have ever had and his gravy, I could have drank it. In my mind though, he was going up against Noah in the gravy department and Noah is a gravy master. Bring on the competition. Hating to leave the quiet, relaxed feel of Drew’s, I knew I had to get to my daughter’s and his father was due to arrive and needed my parking spot.

Let me pause to say that my daughter and her best friend, ‘Life Partner’ were cohosting the dinner at Roni’s and were prepping and planning a long time.

I thought somewhere in my journey I entered a twilight zone. Because when I walked into my daughter’s home, I didn’t recognize a single person in the living room. Who were these people? Surely I was in the right house. They looked at me as if to say, ‘who is this old woman that just wandered in? Aw, is she in the right house. Bet she’s lost.’

Then I saw my daughter and she was dressed exactly like her best friend. They both said ‘welcome’ at the same time. Like some sort of Shining Movie Moment. I was led into the kitchen where I truly saw the fruits of their planning. Martha Stewart’s best effort probably looked like a Truck Stop buffet compared to the Kardashian bonanza my daughter put out.

There was so much food, so much variety, appetizer buffet, and there wasn’t just a charcuterie board, there was a charcuterie table. It was visually stunning and the food was fabulous.

It was evident how much hard work and effort they put into this Thanksgiving celebration.

The only downfall was I just didn’t feel comfortable because I really didn’t know anyone. Strangers packed at tables set up all over the house. And that’s okay. When I was her age, I invited anyone and everyone. People came to my home and stayed all hours. It was her show and she did a great job.

Onward to Noah’s.

I was going to stop right here and just because, say, “It was okay’ to mess with him, but that wouldn’t be fair. I know my oldest so well, that when he says a time, I know to go late. I was greeted warmly and stepped into a house where I knew everyone’s name and was perfectly on time. His company was long time friends and his wife’s family. Like an episode of Cheers, they all said ‘Hi’ at the same time. I was waiting for my son’s famous gravy, anxiously awaiting diving into it, and then I looked at the stove and experienced that Jason, screeching violin moment.

“Um, that’s not your gravy,” I said.

“No,” he replied. “I didn’t have enough drippings.”

“No!” I cried out.

“Here, Ma, have a drink.”

Ah, yes, my sons (And I say sons) know me. About the point I dove into his juicy, tender smoked turkey, Ex Hubby 1 arrived. After dinner, we shared notes. Both of us shared our dismay over the lack of Noah’s homemade gravy. But we did agree on who did the turkey best.

But I didn’t leave after that. I stayed, laughing with his guests and genuinely enjoying myself.

Pick a winner.

I went into this thinking I would pick a winner, but like picking your favorite child, how can a parent choose who did it best.

Each shined in one way.

Best food – My son, Drew. Ex husband and I both agreed his turkey was unforgettable. He focused on his meal and flavors, he didn’t culinarily spread himself thin, and it was comfort food at his best. The quiet, at home feel, was so relaxing.

Hands down Roni has to have it for the best planned Thanksgiving. Her spread and party planning were undeniable. All of her guests, at least 30 of them were comfortable, chatting, and enjoying their food.

Noah gets the award for the ‘Most like Mom feel’, eclectic guests that are enjoyable and an atmosphere that makes you forget the time. Honestly, he could have served Banquet chicken, canned corn and Little Debbie Pumpkin cakes and it wouldn’t have matter. Although, I really wish he made his gravy.

I am so proud of my kids, beyond proud. They all, in their own way killed it. I can’t pick one winner. As much as it sounds like a copout, they were all winners in their own way.

Next year though should be interesting because they are going to know I am keeping score.