Speaking Out as a Victim of the ‘Young Writers’ Vanity Publishing Scam
How to con a family and get away with it: predators of the publishing industry continue the lucrative business of scamming children.
Growing up, one of my biggest dreams was to be an author. At this point that kind of dream sounds somewhat cliché to admit — everyone wants to be published, in some way, at some point. As a kid I didn’t realise that there existed a distinction between being ‘traditionally published’ and ‘self published’, and I vastly underestimated the sheer complexity of the publishing landscape. Which — much to my disappointment but not surprise — was, and still is, rife with landmines. All I knew was that I enjoyed reading and crafting stories, and wanted to spend the rest of my life doing that. And in that vein, I participated in as many writing competitions as my clammy little, ink stained, prepubescent hands could latch onto.
Looking back now, I feel I must begrudgingly admit that I had a lot more ambition and resilience as a kid. That dream’s been battered, bruised, and has shrivelled to dust over the years as consequence of the wear and tear of adulting. My drive to participate in these competitions did give me the opportunity to meet and share a meal with Cathy Cassidy. Unfortunately, it would be this same drive that landed me in the clutches of a (now) notorious organisation of fraudsters.
They’ve gone by many names in the past (although maybe ‘alias’ might be a more fitting description), more notably settling on ‘Young Writers’ in the UK. Catchy and unassuming, isn’t it? Yeah, I’m sure I and the many parent’s who’ve had the misfortune of watching their children ensnared in the companies schemes thought so initially too. In fact, I had all but forgotten about this ‘situation’, for lack of a better word, until the need for a writing prompt response sent me trawling through the deepest recesses of my memories (and Google). I stumbled across an article that exposed the owners of the company, and it didn’t take much digging to uncover further deceits.
GDTGuardiaCivil on YouTube.
As with Cathy Cassidy, I came to know the scammers through my Primary School, which is somewhat disheartening when you consider the expected responsibilities of the institutions that parents’ entrust their children to. It’s disquieting to realise that my school, and many others, could participate in a sham that basically preyed on their very vulnerable student body. The scam was presented to me and my classmates in 2007 as a national short story writing ‘competition’, with a horror-thriller theme, and winning stories were to be incorporated into an anthology titled Tiny Tales London & The Home Counties. I wrote about a (fictitious) vacation where I woke up one night to suspicious sounds in the house, and went to investigate (as you do in all great horror stories). It’s later revealed that, no, it wasn’t a monster or home invader, but just my mum in the kitchen cooking. I really thought I was the next Conan Doyle.
A few weeks after the submission deadline, my mum received a letter informing her that I had won the writing ‘competition’, and of course, I was ecstatic. Who could have imagined that I would be published earlier than I had ever even considered, and only at the ripe old age of nine. I’m sure fantasies of being awarded with trophies for being the youngest, most accomplished, and recognised writer of her generation whirled around my nine-year-old brain for days on end. The letter also contained information on how to purchase a copy of the anthology, quoting a fee of £14.99 for a single copy.
Some parents of students who had been declared ‘winners’ had paid for a copy of the anthology, but hadn’t received them, and Mum and I didn’t chase the matter up at the time. In my mind I’d already reached my goal of being published, and better yet, had received free book tokens as an extra reward. My classmates and I had more pressing matters to focus on at the time — like, who had the best handwriting, or who was the tallest in the class, or who fancied who in a game of kiss-chase. My Primary School days were very busy. Being the sole provider for a family both in the UK and in Ghana, and having to work multiple jobs to make ends meet, Mum was also very busy. If I ever really wanted to see my writing in the anthology I could borrow a copy from the school or from a friend, or even purchase one at a later date, I reasoned. The only problem was, that wasn’t how it worked.
Clare Mackintosh, herself a successful bestselling thriller author, continues in subsequent tweets to say:
My daughter is over the moon. She thinks she’s really special. She thinks she’s a published author ‘just like you, Mummy!’ If I don’t buy this book I will break her heart, and that is precisely how this company makes money.
My entry was titled ‘The Haunted Holiday’, but If you were to ever fork over the cash to purchase the anthology — which I highly caution against, please steward your money well — I doubt you would find my ‘winning’ entry in its pages. See, being a ‘winner’ didn’t matter much for this ‘competition’. All that mattered was the money Young Writers hoped to wring out of proud, guilt-riddled, parents. Unfortunately (or maybe fortunately, considering what I know now), Mum and I, other entrants, and their families weren’t aware that Young Writers receiving payment was a pre-requisite for our ‘winning’ entries being included in the ‘winner’s prize’ anthology. Parents, without realising it, were basically paying for their children’s writing to be printed in the anthology. To make matters worse, the anthology would only be published and distributed to the parents and schools who purchased a copy, and would not be made available in libraries or bookshops.
As you might have realised by now, the ‘competition’ wasn’t really a competition, but had been falsely advertised as such as part of a vanity publishing scam. The masterminds behind the scheme obtain a great deal of free content for their books through the children who enter, and by extension also garner a captive audience comprised of the parents (and other family members) of these aspiring authors, who are understandably emotionally invested in the scam. Quite frankly, I think it’s manipulative, predatory, and disgusting to not only take advantage of the hopes and dreams of children, but to then also weaponise these hopes and dreams against parents in a manoeuvre tantamount to emotional blackmail. The sad thing is, they’re still at it, having adopted a shiny new veneer.
