One of the oddest things I have encountered as an indie author is the “Mean-Well Fraud”. A “Mean-Well Fraud”, a title or term I have coined myself, is someone with the best of intentions or thoughts who nevertheless wants to take advantage of you, your art form or material, and your independence. They come in many forms and want many different things. All of them, however, will have a negative impact on you if you follow through.
I encountered two in particular early on. One was a “reviewer” and another was an “acquisitioner”.
The “reviewer” approached my table at a local convention with eagerness. The bright galaxy patterns that have become an icon of Requiem Series often earn this reaction. They flipped through the free-read copy and asked a few stereotypical questions. Then, the excuses came. They could not pay. They already had their eyes set on other items at the con. It was too bad really. They liked the book and wanted to read it. My offers that the book was available outside of conventions for a slightly higher cost and was also available as an eBook went purposefully straight over their head. I had seen such reactions before though. I was ready to disengage and let them continue on their way through the artist alley with only a 0.01% of hope that they would come back and buy a copy later. However, that was when they played their trump card. They leaned with one hand on the table, gesturing with the other as they spoke, and launched into a lengthy explanation about how they ran a literary review Facebook page. Instinctive doubt led to me pulling out my personal phone and looking up their page as they spoke. A Facebook page with 20 followers. Shallow reviews no more than four or five sentences with unprofessional language and basic grammar errors. And a “reviewer” who was smiling down at me and fingering a copy of my book expectantly. Absolutely not. There are concessions to be made between people just starting out in their field, but those come with certain understandings and standards as new professionals. I made a comment about how fun it must be to be a literary reviewer and promptly turned my attention elsewhere. The “reviewer” left without fuss or comment.
The “acquisitioner” was a fascinating encounter. I had received scam phone calls and emails already of people attempting to get a hold of my money by promising marketing opportunities (easy to spot since they were harassing me through my private contacts instead of my business ones), but to face someone in person was entirely different. The “acquisitioner” did not want my money. No. They wanted my credibility and labor. They had been rounding the artist alley and eventually came to me, fingering through a copy of the book and reading the back synopsis. They pulled out a business card and gave a brief speech about working in acquisitions for a small publishing group and about how their boss was also attending the con and would be interested if I wanted to come talk to them. It sounded professional. It sounded put together. Such opportunities do arise, and certain indie authors would more than love to sign on to a company and save themselves quite a bit of production costs. This was not one of those opportunities. I did not have to do any research. I merely had to turn to the card in my hand. It was printed on something better than printer paper but limp and rough, already wearing away at the edges. Matte with neon purple text … in two different “crazy” fonts. Having ordered business cards myself for multiple small ventures even before Requiem Series, I know exactly how easy it is to create a professional business card. If anything, a business card shows minimal effort and is taken for granted in the early stages of investigating an offer. However, the “acquisitioner” had not even bothered with that basic step. It was an immediate red flag. I confirmed my suspicions later on with a bit of eavesdropping and gossip trading with other authors at the convention. The “acquisitioner” and their company were looking to amass indie authors and use our numbers to make them look stronger. No one involved seemed to have any idea of the cost of publishing, and no one involved had any definitive answers when asked about editors, printers, formatters, and other needed staff. They wanted to find already produced content and slap their name on it, taking credit and likely taking a cut of profits. I kept the card to show to others when I told them the tale and nothing more.
Neither of these “Mean-Well Frauds” was directly looking to hurt me or my business. The “reviewer” wanted a free book and at least offered something seen as valuable in exchange. But the $15 comp was not worth a small review that would likely be unquotable due to grammar errors or lack of content. The “acquisitioner” believed in their cause and company but failed to consider the actual effort, professionalism, and contacts needed to be taken seriously and to be fully utilized. There is a definite line between professionals and “Mean-Well Frauds”. Be watchful and be careful. But don’t be rude. Those in this category do “mean well”. They willingly promise more than they can give, and so you must be cautious, guarded, and polite. Their problem is that you cannot make a living or be a professional simply because you mean well.
