ACCOMMODATION SCAM ALERT

(I escaped, and would like to help others do so too.)

Recently I was making enquiries of everyone I could, on behalf of ‘my friend’ who urgently needed accommodation. I called her that because she very quickly seemed a friend, lots in common etc., but actually I only knew her a month – and only met her in person once, in a car park when she offered to help me put my wheely walker in the boot of my car (as kind people often do); the rest was all by text and verbal phone calls. It was an increasingly stressful month, when I researched all possible ways to help her, and found a lot, but she always had excellent reasons why they wouldn’t work. Her situation seemed desperate: staying in noisy motel, a lot of drunks as neighbours, not getting enough sleep, money fast running out, plus she was sick with thyroid probs and in the middle of blood tests.

She said she experienced this town as very cliquey and unfriendly – quite contrary to my own experience! ‘It’s as if we live in two different towns,’ I told her. But she said it was different for her, as a woman on her own. I am a woman on my own of course, but I arrived here with my husband and was well established by the time he died 18 years later, so I accepted that explanation. Finally, when it seemed that there was nothing else that would work, she asked, ‘Could I come to you?’ I explained I’m in a Housing Dept unit, only allowed visitors for a few weeks. She suggested (a) we didn’t have to let them know (b) we could say she was a relative; but I told her I was unwilling to lie to the Dept. ‘Maybe there’s a loophole,’ she suggested re the time limit. I looked into it; there was. I could apply to have her listed as an extra occupant. So I agreed to do that. Better than having the poor woman put out into the street, which seemed imminent.

But I felt very sad at giving up my independent lifestyle, which I love – lots of lovely solitude for writing poems etc. – plus I would have to put off a much looked-forward-to visit this month from a dear cousin I haven’t seen in a long time. I phoned a good friend just to share my feelings, not with the idea of changing my plans – but she said, ‘What about house sitting?’ I was rapt, contacted my prospective house mate and changed the offer: instead of living with me permanently, she could come for three weeks rent-free, rest and recuperate, and register with a house sitting agency. I explained that the reason the Housing Dept gave me a unit with an extra bedroom is because all my family members are either interstate or overseas, so I need a room for when they come visiting – which they do. There followed the most dreadful phone call, with tears, yelling and blaming! On both sides – I really was caught in a seeming relationship by then. (Though I must add I’ve NEVER had an altercation as bad as that!) It sent my blood pressure sky high, but fortunately I know how to bring it down fast, also still had to take my evening bp tablet. Then I finally started thinking. 

It dawned on me that, far from being able to look after someone else, I was getting sick myself from all the stress of trying to solve her problems!

And, if she was that desperate, why not leap at what I was offering? Instead, in that phone call, she was totally guilt-tripping me – for not offering what she preferred! I realised she had always knocked back every possibility except moving in with me permanently. Also, whenever I’d offered to drop in for a coffee with her at the motel where she was supposedly staying (because she would say how lacking in compassion this town is, and how much she longed for someone just to have a coffee with) there were always reasons for me not to do that just then. 

When I thought back over all our conversations in detail, I realised how very manipulative she had been. I could see all the triggers that had worked on me so well.

She phoned me back next morning, and I told her I was rescinding all offers. ‘I can’t keep doing this,’ I said. ‘It’s too stressful. This relationship is unsustainable.’

‘Yes, I can hear how stressed you are,’ she said. ‘I think your doctor might be over-medicating you. It happened to my Mum, and it happened to me. It’s not ME causing your stress.’ She went on, but I talked over her to say a firm goodbye, hung up the phone, ignored her phone call that immediately followed and blocked her number. Whew!!! (Also did a tie cut and a banishing spell, with the intention keeping her out of my life henceforth.)

It finally occurred me that she was so good at the manipulation – because normally I have sensible boundaries – that maybe it was an actual con job (what we now call a scam). So I asked Google, and was told:

‘Yes, this is a well-known con… The tactic relies on vulnerability exploitation, where a con artist uses a fabricated or highly exaggerated sob story (such as escaping an abusive ex, sudden eviction, medical crisis, or family estrangement) to bypass your normal boundaries and secure a free place to live. Once inside, they can be incredibly difficult to evict.’

She had told me about all of those: the abusive ex, the threat of sudden eviction, medical crisis, and family estrangement! 

She also had a funny way of saying, about some things she told me, including the name of the motel where she said she was staying, ‘Don’t tell anyone.’ I thought she had an exaggerated sense of privacy, but OK, I could respect that.  (Duh! How to ignore red flags.)

One of her ploys was how terrible to be homeless at Christmas. I’m Pagan and Christmas doesn’t mean quite the same to me, so I was slow to pick up on that one, but I realise it might have worked very well with most people in our culture, particularly at this time of year.

Google also said:

‘The Rapid Set-up: The scammer quickly establishes an intense emotional connection with you (either romantically or as a “best friend”) to build trust.’

Yes, that too. Not best friend exactly, but certainly lovely new friend.

She said she wasn’t on social media, but it’s possible that was a lie and she researched me. She was good at finding things we could bond over. However, I think it’s more likely she was opportunistic, practised at extracting relevant information, in conversation, from whoever she happened to target.

Google said a lot more. This one particularly applies:

‘Trust your gut: If the relationship feels like it is moving at lightning speed or you feel pressured by guilt, step back immediately.’

I did feel pressured by guilt. I thought I must be very selfish not to want her to move in with me. Thank God for the Housing Dept time limit on visitors! That is all that kept me from offering in the first place – until she suggested there might be a loophole. Also, luckily I never gave her my home address.

She did initially assume I owned my own home, but when I said, ‘No, I’m in a Housing Department unit,’ I added, ‘Of course, that gives me security of tenure.’ So I guess she then decided I was a worthwhile mark after all.

Anyway, I am posting this to warn others. 

Authors Beware!!!

 

Scam Alert!

(reposted from my website blog www.nissen-wade.com)

SUCH an elegant scam just got tried on me.

An email from a lady I don’t know, asking was I the author of ‘this amazing book,’ Letters to a Dead Man. I replied that I am, and asked where she’d seen it. She said she came across it when looking for ‘deeply personal / spiritual memoirs’ and that the title alone ‘doesn’t sound like a book written to fill space. It sounds like a book written because it had to be.’ She asked where it came out and whatI had hoped readers would understand from it. 

Warmed by her interest, and thinking that perhaps she had in mind the writing of her own ‘deeply personal / spiritual’ memoir, I emailed back to explain that it’s part of a trilogy of books about my time running poetry workshops in Pentridge Prison, and expanded somewhat on each of the three books. I also got the funny feeling that perhaps she hadn’t actually read Letters, so I asked her that.

She  replied that she wouldn’t lie, she hadn’t read the whole book, but had read about it. (Difficulty actually, unless she had come across a review. And it appeared she was unaware that it’s poetry rather than memoir.) She thanked me warmly for the generosity of my email. And then came the sales pitch. I think it’s worth reproducing in full:

What you have described is not just one book. It is a living body of work: poetry, prison testimony, memoir, social history, grief, tribute, and the spiritual thread beneath all of it. And that is exactly why I reached out.

I have many authors, publishers, writers, and poets in my circle, some of them dear friends now, and one thing I hear over and over is how exhausting it is to be approached by people trying to push them into paying for book clubs, reader networks, and communities as if access to readers should simply be bought at random. I dislike that model very deeply. It feels disrespectful to the work.

What I do is different.

I support books I genuinely believe in by helping present them to active reader communities where they are actually likely to be received with intelligence and feeling. I do not charge authors for my time, my access, or the presenting itself. If I take on a book, I do that part because I believe in it.

The only paid part, if an author chooses to move forward, is the one-time preparation of the presentation materials I use to introduce the work properly. And with a book like yours, that matters enormously, because it cannot be reduced to a bare link and a short description. It needs context. It needs care. It needs to be positioned so readers understand the emotional, historical, and spiritual depth they are being invited into.

What especially excites me about your work is that it could speak to more than one kind of reader space at once. I can see Letters to a Dead Man resonating not only with memoir readers, but also with poetry circles, spiritual readers, women’s reflective communities, and readers interested in prison writing and social history. And when a meaningful book lands in the right hands, it very often travels beyond the first circle, into families, friendships, teaching spaces, private conversations, and the lives of people outside the original community.

That kind of ripple is what I care about.

If you are open to it, I would truly love to support the growth of this journey for you, not just for Letters, but potentially for the wider Pentridge body of work as well.

It very nearly got me. All that subtle flattery! And gosh, my books could certainly use a wider readership. But something niggled, so I asked Google: Is there a scam in which someone offers to publicise a book one has already written and self-published?

Google replied that there certainly is, and described a first cold contact similar to what I had received. So I replied to ‘her’ (just now; this all happened within the last 24 hours) that I believe she's a scammer, and that she's wasting her time on me as I’m an Age Pensioner on a low income.

But Google also asked the name and email address of who had contacted me, and business address if any, to check whether they were already red-flagged. So I decided to check that too. No business address (in itself a red flag) and yes, as it turned out, a VERY suspicious contact. To my surprise, the wording of the messages probably came from an AI entity. I thought I could spot AI-speak, but of course these things are getting so sophisticated so fast… 

Another mistake I made was to reply at all. Google informs me that tells scammers I am open to this kind of approach, so I’m liable to get more. Oh well, I am awake-up now, and have blocked this particular scammer. 

Learn from my experience, dear writers!