The deadline to file a claim in the $1.5 billion Bartz v. Anthropic copyright settlement passed at midnight on March 30, 2026. Now that all claims have been filed, I’m taking a look at where things stand and what’s yet to come.

If you need a refresh, my backgrounder on the settlement and the class action lawsuit that spawned it is here.

The Fairness Hearing is currently scheduled for May 14…

…though it could be further delayed. It’s already been pushed back once.

The hearing is a final step in the process of approving or rejecting the settlement. The court considers objections, opt-outs, attorneys’ fees, and the fairness of the settlement as a whole. Per the judge’s order, class members who’ve filed objections can speak at the hearing via Zoom (there’s a Zoom link in the order). I’ve heard from a couple of people who were hoping to attend in person; I don’t know what the status of that is.

Payouts to class members will be issued only after the judge has granted final approval, and any appeals of the settlement have been resolved. There’s currently no timeline for that; you can ignore the August 10 estimate in settlement FAQ #35, which was optimistic even last September when the FAQ was created. So don’t expect to get a check (or checks: payments may be issued in installments) anytime soon. On the plus side, the settlement fund, into which Anthropic is paying in installments, will be earning interest, so any delays will increase individual payments.

Disputes between rightsholders will be resolved by a court-appointed Special Master.

Class participation has been robust

The pirate datasets that Anthropic used for training comprised around seven million works. Because the settlement’s definition of the class excluded foreign works and works without a US copyright registration–with such works representing the vast majority of the pirated works–the estimated number of works eligible to be incuded in the settlement was only 500,000. The finalized list of eligible works wound up slightly smaller, at 482,460. (Settlement FAQs #51 and #52 explain how the list was compiled.)

According to the motion for final approval,

The Class’s participation in the Settlement has been outstanding. As of March 19, there are 99,450
claims for 264,809 Works, representing 54% of the Works List. By contrast, there are 350 opt-outs (less than 0.5% of the Works List) and 41 objections (only 32 of which are from Class Members).

If you’re wondering why participation of just over 54% qualifies as outstanding, participation in class action settlements is typically extremely low–below 10%, according to some estimates. Average payouts are correspondingly small. The Anthropic settlement, by contrast, guarantees a payout of at least $3,000 per eligible work–and unlike many other class actions, the settlement fund is non-reversionary, which means that any leftover funds will be distributed to class members, potentially making the payout even higher. Though many authors will have to split their payout with their publishers, the unusually large payout, along with major publicity about the settlement and extensive outreach by authors’ groups and others, has incentivized response.

The number of claims will certainly have risen in the two weeks between the filing of the motion and the March 30 deadline. Will they come close to the full number of eligible works? My bet is no, but stay tuned.

Lawyers’ fees have been reduced

Class counsel initially requested a fee of 20% of the settlement fund ($300 million plus several million in expenses), with a quarter of that amount going to the several additional law firms brought on to handle administration of the settlement. The original judge in the case (Judge Alsup, who retired at the end of December 2025), was extremely blunt in his opposition to this request, especially regarding payment to the proliferating law firms.

In a filing on March 20, class counsel capitulated, cutting their request nearly in half:

Plaintiffs move for (1) 12.5 percent of the $1.5+ billion Settlement Fund in attorneys’ fees
to Class Counsel; (2) reimbursement of $2,779,950.26 in litigation expenses incurred by Class
Counsel; (3) a cost reserve of $18,220,000 for future expenses, including payment to the Settlement
Administrator; and (4) service awards of $50,000 to each Class Representative.

Average lawyers’ fees in this type of class action typically range between 25%-35%.

Macmillan’s promise re: failure to register copyright

An unpleasant corollary of the Anthropic settlement has been writers’ discovery that their publishers may not have registered their copyrights as required by their contracts, making those works ineligible for the settlement even though they were part of the pirated datasets used by Anthropic. Alone among such publishers AFAIK, Macmillan has promised to address this lapse. From Publishers Lunch:

On that front, at least, there is some good news for Macmillan authors. The company shares with PL that it has been communicating to authors and agents who have inquired about unregistered copyrights, acknowledging, “From what we currently understand, this was largely our mistake and we take full responsibility. If your work was excluded from the settlement for this reason, we will make you whole by paying you what you otherwise would have been paid under the settlement.”

I’ve seen confirmation of this promise in a recent agency email.

It’s more complicated than just making payments for unregistered books, however. Macmillan will have to figure out whether the works were among the seven million included in the datasets. As far as I know, only one of the two datasets used by Anthropic (LibGen) is publicly available.

Anthropic wants to consolidate cases

Several authors who opted out of the settlement subsequently filed infringement lawsuits against Anthropic and several other AI companies. The lawsuits were filed as a group, but not as a class, with the plaintiffs seeking individualized awards of statutory damages to be determined by a jury.

In a March 25 filing, Anthropic gave notice that it has moved to sever these lawsuits’ claims against it from the claims against the other companies and, if severance is granted, that it will move to consolidate the claims with Bartz. While consolidation would presumably limit those authors’ restitution to the amount guaranteed by the settlement, which is considerably less than the up to $150,000 per work in statutory damages the authors are seeking, that’s less than pocket change to Anthropic, so I’d guess that it mostly doesn’t want to have to deal with the legal hassle of these individual suits. (The new judge in the case, Judge Martinez-Olguin, has indicated that she’s unlikely to grant Anthropic’s request.)

One objection to the settlement could make a significant difference…if the court agrees

In addition to claims and opt-outs, there have been objections to the settlement. As noted above, as of March 19 the number of objections stood at 41, 32 of which were from class members.

The motion summarizes these, starting on page 25, including those filed under seal (the court has ordered that these be unsealed, but as of this writing, most aren’t yet available on the docket). They include objections to the amount of the settlement (either that the total amount is inadequate or that the per-work award isn’t sufficient), objections to the amount of attorneys’ fees, objections to the court-approved notice sent to class members and/or the way it was distributed, objections from writers who missed the opt-out deadline and are seeking an exception, miscellaneous objections including one arguing that books that serve a “more important function” should recieve a higher payout than “fiction and humor” books (!), objections to the inclusion of publishers in the award distribution, and objections seeking to expand the class definition by including foreign and non-copyright registered works.

Regarding the latter two issues, one objection is especially interesting. Filed by law professor Lea Bishop, this objection takes issue not only with publishers’ inclusion in the distribution plan and the sharply-limited class definition that locks thousands of pirated works out of the settlement, but with class representation, alleging that class counsel and publishers coordinated to enable publishers to insert themselves as payees (in a post on the Authors Cuild’s discussion forum, the AG has disputed this characterization). The entire objection is worth reading, but here’s the basic argument:

Excluding publishers would obviously raise the payouts to authors. But including foreign and unregistered works would vastly expand the scope of the settlement, adding tens of thousands if not millions of works. If you’re thinking that would in turn reduce payouts, the terms of the settlement ensure otherwise (see page 13):

Finally, $1.5 billion (plus accrued interest) is the minimum size of the Settlement Fund….If the Works List ultimately exceeds 500,000 works, then Anthropic will pay an additional $3,000 per work that Anthropic adds to the Works List above 500,000 works.

This would be the exact nightmare Anthropic agreed to the settlement to prevent.

For that and other reasons, I’m thinking it’s a long shot. Ms. Bishop has asked to speak and present at the Fairness Hearing, but the judge has denied her request because she “is not a member of the class and therefore lacks standing to object to the settlement.”

Once again–stay tuned!

The post Anthropic Copyright Settlement: April Update appeared first on Writer Beware.

I’ve recently gotten a slew of reports of emails purporting to be from editors at Big 5 and other large publishers, in which the supposed editor expresses interest in the writer’s work and asks whether they have a literary agent.

I’ve posted a number of examples below. Apologies for so many images, but I wanted you to see, beyond the gen AI personalization and praise, how similar they are–including the identical phrases I’ve highlighted in red (I’ve redacted the authors’ details, along with information specific to their books).

I’ve seen additional emails–with the same highlighted phrases–using the names of Gabriella Mongelli of Hachette, Sarah Peed of PRH, Jesse Richards of Workman Publishing, Masie Cochran of Tin House, and Megan Tingley of Little, Brown. No doubt there are others. (UPDATE: Adding Brendan Deneen of Blackstone Publishing, Rosa Schierenberg of Viking Fiction, and Daphne Durham and Megan Wenerstrong, both of PRH, to the list.)

As you will probably have gathered, this is a referral scam–actually a double referral scam, as you’ll see below. It appears to be yet another variant of the prolific AI-driven scams from Nigeria.

Referral 1: A Fake Literary Agent

I heard from three writers who responded to the initial solicitation, and exchanged several emails with the supposed editor before the scammer got to the point: recommending “one of our company’s private and reliable literary agents”. (Note: literary agents do not work for publishers. That would be the opposite of their actual function: to advocate on behalf of authors).

• “Rosemary Brosnan” recommended Leslie James, Literary Agent (lesliejames.agent@gmail.com).
• “Alessandra Balzer” recommended Wreth Maine, Literary Agent (wrethmaine@gmail.com).
• “Gabriella Mongelli” recommended James Mustelier, Literary Agent (jamesmustelier.literaryagent@gmail.com).

The first two “agent” names are fictional; a websearch on them turns up nothing. James Mustelier, however, is a real agent with The Bent Agency, whose identity has been appropriated by the scammer. (UPDATE: “Megan Tingley” is referring to Sara Megibow, Literary Agent, at a really extravagantly fake email address: saraquery.megibowlitagent@gmail.com. Like James Mustelier Sara Megibow is a real agent with the Megibow Literary Agency.)

The three authors bowed out at the agent referral stage, and didn’t take the scam any farther. But I like to see where things go, and I’m always up for a challenge…so I contacted Leslie James myself, pretending to have been referred by “Rosemary”. Leslie replied warmly within a few hours (fast responses are a hallmark of this type of scam; they don’t want to waste any time getting your money, which is also why they keep nudging you if you don’t respond right away).

Here is my query (the attached manuscript is a trunk ms. donated by a friend of Writer Beware for use in such situations; it has no similarity to my plot summary).

You’ll notice that I’ve taken no trouble to conceal my identity–using my real name, email address (which I’ve redacted), and signature, which includes two links to Writer Beware. Along with the patently ridiculous query, this is an AI test: if these exchanges were monitored in any meaningful way, the scammer might cut off contact at this point.

At any rate, Leslie did identify a problem with my query–though not that my bloated fantasy novel ripped off the plot of a popular TV show. “After going through the query letter,” she wrote, “I noticed that it does not currently meet the standard format we would typically need for a strong submission to a major publisher such as HarperCollins.” (No kidding). “If you don’t mind, I can connect you with a professional consultant who has experience helping authors refine their query letters and prepare their manuscripts for submission.” Once my query was fixed, Leslie promised, “we can move forward with the submission process”.

This is at least a little clever: the referral to the “professional” isn’t a kissoff, but is framed as an intermediate step toward a reward down the road. It’s a tried and true referral technique, used by, among others, the myriad of fake literary agencies that referred writers to fraudulent editing service Edit Ink.

Referral 2: A Fake Book Doctor

The recommended professional consultant: Allie Oosta, Book Curator Doctor. This too appears to be an impersonation (there’s a LinkedIn for an Allie Oosta who’s an executive with Amazon Fashion); Fake Allie also is associated with the tipped reviewer scam.

I emailed Fake Allie. She responded within the hour, inviting me to send my query, which I did. Here’s her response, which again took less than an hour to get to me. As with Leslie, neither my excessive word count nor my improbable plot summary are a problem.

I could definitely afford it, I responded (so kind of her to ask!). Could she send me information for a bank transfer? (Note: never pay with bank or wire transfer! Unlike credit card charges, such payments can’t be reversed. I ask for this only because I’m collecting information and have no intention of paying.) She promptly provided it.

Once I get scammers to hand over their bank account info, I’m done with them. Being ignored makes them sad, however, and Allie emailed several times over the next few days to ask, plaintively, why I was ignoring her.

I also contacted “agent” Wreth Maine. His or her response was a bit different from Allie’s.

Hmmm. Maybe a human is monitoring things after all?

Spotting the Scam

Judging by the number of reports I’m getting, and the growing number of editor names involved, this is currently a very active scam.

Structurally, it’s similar to the Famous Author scam; an initial friendly solicitation, followed by a referral to a literary agent, who in turn refers to an editor or marketer who charges a fee. The only difference is that the initial contact comes from a scammer impersonating an editor, rather than a well-known author. In this circular process, the same scammer (or the same group of scammers) inhabits every persona, and writers are handed from one to the next, always arriving at a point where they have to pay.

If you see the emails all together, as in the screenshots at the top of this post, it’s obvious that they are using the same template, although personalized to the recipient. One email on its own, however, might seem at least somewhat plausible. But though it’s hard to conclusively say “never” in publishing, it is extremely unlikely that an editor at a major publishing house will contact you out of the blue, let alone invest so many paragraphs in summarizing and praising your work: these are busy people, and in any case, editors expect writers to come to them, not the other way around. Especially nowadays, with scams–in particular impersonation scams–being so prevalent, any emails like the ones above really can be dismissed outright as fraudulent. At the very least, they should be treated with extreme skepticism. And the moment money is mentioned, you should bail.

There’s also the matter of the email addresses. A genuine contact from an editor from Macmillan or Bloomsbury or HarperCollins would come from a company email address, not a Gmail or AOL address or a weird mashup like the fake addresses for Rosemary Brosnan and Alessandra Balzer, in which the recipient is “harpercollins” and the domain is the editor’s name. Those domains actually are registered, by the way; it’s common practice for scammers to register fake domain names in order to be able to email from them. This scammer seems to be fond of Squarespace.

There are even “coming soon” placeholder pages. Again, though, in terms of plausibility: how concidental is it that editor Alessandra Balzer would have registered her personal domain name just three days before contacting you? (The Alessandra Balzer example at the top of this post arrived on March 16.)

Finally, if you’re still in doubt, you can contact the publisher and ask. Most publishers are now extremely aware of the impersonation scam problem; all the majors have fraud alert pages (here’s HarperCollins’s), and are very willing to respond to questions.

And of course, you can contact me.

On payment, a few scam tips (other than the fact that there should never be a fee or purchase requirement associated with traditional publication or literary agent representation):

• As noted above, never pay for a publishing-related service via bank or wire transfer, because such payments can’t be reversed.
• When offering or demanding bank transfer, Nigerian scammers favor Wells Fargo and Lead Bank (I’ve collected dozens of examples).
• Be suspicious if you’re asked to pay via PayPal using the friends and family option. Scammers like this for the same reason they like bank transfer: these payments can’t be disputed.
• When I first started tracking Nigerian scams, many demanded payment to third parties via Upwork or Fiverr profiles. This seems to be less common now, but is still a caution sign.
• I’m seeing more payment requests routed through a platform called Coachli. There’s nothing fraudulent about the platform itself, as far as I know, but it is a platform specifically tailored to Nigerian and African service and content providers, and I’ve documented several Nigerian scams that have used it.
• If a provider invoices you from a payment platform like Payoneer, be extremely suspicious if the invoice lacks important information like a provider name and a description of services, or if the service description doesn’t match the service you want to buy. These are all problems I’ve seen with invoices from scammers.

The post Watch Out For This Scam Impersonating Editors at Major Publishing Houses appeared first on Writer Beware.

Last spring, I began hearing from writers who’d received the email below. (Note the phrase I’ve highlighted; you will see it again.)

Judging by the number of reports I received, as well as this lengthy Facebook discussion thread (which includes responses from Woodside), a lot of these emails were going out.

Emails received later in the summer looked a bit different. References to “proof of concept” and “visual representation” were gone, and, contrary to the first email’s caution that “this isn’t a submission to studios just yet”, Woodside now indicated that its interest was in finding books to present to “our network of producers and investors.”

In this one, received in November, the pitch is more elaborate, but also more vague, with the possibility of presentation to “real decision-makers” hedged about with disclaimers. Other than the non-obligatory review mentioned in paragraph four, it’s not really clear what’s actually on offer here.

What’s the deal? the writers who shared these emails with me wondered. Who was Woodside Motion? What kind of service or partnership, exactly, was it extending? And why?

Who is Woodside Motion?

Operating out of a residential building in Queens, New York, Woodside Motion is a relatively new venture, with a New York business registration filed on March 31, 2025. Here’s how it described itself when I contacted it with a list of questions.

Woodside Motion is a development-stage production company based in New York that focuses on visual storytelling initiatives, including short-form narrative projects and early-stage exploration of literary properties that may have adaptation potential. As a newer studio, we place a strong emphasis on maintaining transparent practices and clearly communicating the scope of our work with authors, collaborators, and industry professionals.

Woodside’s short-form videos, most of which focus on personal life stories or accomplishments, can be viewed on its YouTube channel. I’ve watched several of them, and they are professionally filmed and produced. You can also view many behind-the-scenes images and videos from photoshoots on Woodside’s social media channels and on the visual portfolio on its website.

Woodside’s website also offers photos and short bios of some of its team members (multiple others, whose names I’ve seen on emails like the ones above, are not included). Given how often the companies I investigate feature fake or AI-created staff, I always do reverse image and other searches. But I was able to verify the reality of most of the pictured staff, and the credentials of the videographers seem to be appropriate to their titles.

In other words, Woodside Motion appears to be a genuine video production business that employs qualified videographers and produces a professional product (though no doubt at considerable cost). How does that relate to the extensive book-to-film solicitation campaign described above, given that video services don’t seem to be on offer?

Or are they?

A Different Kind of Video: Apex Media Global

Writers who respond to Woodside Motion’s emails are asked to share information about their books, after which some are offered shopping agreements (I say “some” because I’ve heard from one writer whose application was rejected). A shopping agreement allows a producer to represent a project to production companies or other potential buyers for a limited period of time, with the goal of selling or optioning it; unlike the more traditional option agreement, the producer doesn’t pay a fee but also doesn’t acquire any rights in the project.

What are Woodside’s credentials for providing such a service? It isn’t clear. The Woodside website provides no success stories or client list, and the brief staff bios are vague about industry connections. For example, Executive Producer Scott Moseley’s bio offers no specifics about his producing history; the bulk of it is devoted to his real estate and business experience, and though I did find a profile for a Scott Moseley on IMDb, he’s described as a composer, not a producer. Similarly, screenwriter Maria Daniela Schleiwet’s bio doesn’t mention any films she’s written for. I found no IMDb listing for her, and the only internet references to her come from the Woodside website.

When I asked about credentials and track record, Woodside indicated that several properties were currently under review but couldn’t be revealed due to confidentiality concerns–which seems fair–but didn’t respond to my question about what qualifies the company to do this kind of work.

Woodside’s lengthy shopping agreement does not require any upfront costs or fees from the author. Composed mostly of boilerplate language, it extends exclusively for one year and allows Woodside to negotiate to serve as producer on any projects a third party expresses interest in picking up. There’s also a roadmap to lay out the shopping process, which extends over four quarters and begins “by reviewing your submitted materials: writer’s resume, manuscript/screenplay, and Proof of Concept (POC).”

(UPDATE: This post originally included links to full copies of the shopping agreement and roadmap. At the request of the individual who provided me with those documents, I’ve removed the links and rewritten the paragraph above to describe the documents’ content.)

What’s a Proof of Concept? In the movie business, it’s a short film or video that showcases the concept or story or tone of the project, with the goal of demonstrating to producers and investors what a film might look like and why it’s worth making.

Most writers, of course, are not going to have one of these just lying around–a fact acknowledged by one of Woodside’s Content Managers in correspondence with a prospective client. Not to worry, though: “In situations like this, we typically refer authors to a trusted creative team that specializes in producing cinematic teasers and visual presentations specifically tailored for book-to-film adaptations.” This referral is carefully framed as optional: only if the writer wants or needs it. But the POC itself is presented as an essential component of the process…and not only will most authors not have one to hand, they won’t have any idea where to go to get one. Woodside may lose potential clients at this point. But many others will sign on.

The “trusted creative team” turns out to be a company called Apex Media Global, which describes itself as “a production studio that combines creativity with corporate polish to bring your ideas to life.” Although it has a New York City address, Apex’s X account is posting from the Phlippines:

Here’s one of Apex’s POC service agreements; the author who signed it paid $3,000. A comment from another author suggests that costs could be higher (the comment can be seen at the very bottom of this article):

The author below seems to have been quoted a even higher figure (this is from the Facebook discussion thread mentioned above). Again, the author’s understanding is that they could supply their own POC–but that option comes with a caveat: whatever they turned in wouldn’t necessarily meet Woodside’s standards.

More than a hundred Proof of Concept videos are available on Apex’s YouTube channel. Most are for novels, but there are also a number for books that are unlikely film prospects (memoirs, self-help, children’s picture books).

I’ve watched a bunch of them (the things I do for Writer Beware!) and unlike the life story films produced by Woodside Motion, they are…not good. All seem to follow the same basic template (a flat re-hash of the plot or premise broken into segments by portentous “What if…?” or or “How can…? or “What happens when…?” questions rendered in text on static screens, like the title cards in silent films) and appear to heavily rely on gen AI (the voiceover narration seems to be entirely artificial, as are many of the images). There’s not always careful attention to continuity (protagonists represented by non-matching visuals, for example), the plot summaries don’t always make total sense (wait, who’s that character mentioned for the first time three-quarters of the way through?), and I found several instances where images were used in more than one video.

Most of the videos are under three minutes but feel much longer. They are, in a word, boring. Assuming these things actually get in front of producers, I can’t imagine them being impressed by such mediocre efforts. Which raises a question: why has Woodside chosen Apex to provide this service?

Here’s what Woodside replied when I asked about its relationship to Apex.

Regarding your inquiry on Apex Media Global, it is an independent media company separate from Woodside Motion. You may reach out to them directly. Authors who wish to develop optional materials, such as proof-of-concept videos, may work with any media company of their choosing. Woodside Motion does not require authors to use any vendor, and adaptation discussions are not conditioned on purchasing services.

As I was able to confirm, all of this is literally true. However, it leaves out some essential information.

Per a declaration made last month as part of a lawsuit, Woodside Motion is owned by Gabriel Ruiz of Cebu City, Philppines. Ruiz also owns a company called The Creative Portal LLC.

Woodside Motion and Creative Portal are separately registered businesses in the state of New York, with separate addresses and tax IDs. Creative Portal was initially registered on March 31, 2023, but on June 24, 2025, just three months after the establishment of Woodside Motion, it registered an assumed business name (an assumed business name is a name used by a company in lieu of its legal name, aka a dba). Guess what that name is?

In other words, Woodside Motion is referring writers for expensive videos to a company that, while indeed a separate entity in business and tax terms, is under common ownership. And it does not necessarily disclose that relationship to the writers it sends Apex’s way…an omission that doesn’t seem accidental, given that it also didn’t disclose it to me when I asked. At the very least, this isn’t a good fit with Woodside’s claimed commitment to transparent practices.

Woodside isn’t just recommending Apex for video creation, either. I’ve gotten reports of referrals there for the creation of screenplays, at a cost of as much as $15,000. Apex also does author interviews, which I doubt are free of charge; multiple authors who purchased Apex POC videos also have Apex interview videos (I was able to confirm that one of those authors is a Woodside client, and I suspect the others are as well).

The Last Word

So for all the writers who’ve gotten emails from Woodside Motion and have been wondering what’s going on…that’s what’s going on. Yet another iteration of the Hollywood pipe dream, peddled by two apparently independent companies that are in fact connected by a single owner and a network of referrals. And money made along the way.

I do appreciate Woodside’s willingness to answer most of my questions, so I thought I’d close with its final comment to me, which begins with a compliment and ends with…well, you be the judge.

We respect the work of Writer Beware in promoting transparency and trust that the same professionalism and fairness will be applied when discussing development-stage companies such as Woodside Motion. As a legitimate production company, we expect any published information to reflect accurate context and avoid statements that could be misleading or damaging to the company’s reputation. Woodside Motion maintains legal counsel and reserves the right to respond appropriately to any inaccurate or defamatory statements.

The post The Two Faces of Woodside Motion Co. appeared first on Writer Beware.

Just a reminder: if your book or books are included in the $1.5 billion Anthropic copyright settlement, the deadline to file a claim is fast approaching: March 30, 2026.

Relevant resources:

• My backgrounder on the settlement: how it came about, what it involves, and what it means for authors.
• The settlement website, which includes key deadlines (all of which, other than the claims filing deadline, have now passed), important documents, and a comprehensive FAQ.
• The master list of eligible works; you can look yourself/your books up here to find out if you’re included.
• The online claim form that you’ll need to file in order to receive a payout (currently estimated at just over $3,000 per work, which you may or may not have to split with your publisher, if you have one).

A note for Amazon Publishing authors like myself: Amazon will not be a claimant, and is assigning all rights of recovery to authors–i.e., if you’re an APub author, you don’t have to split your payout with your publisher. You can download the assignment letter–which can be included with your claim, or submitted to amend your claim if you’ve already filed it–here.

What’s next?

A Final Approval Hearing is scheduled for April 23, 2026 (though that date may well change). This is the final hearing to approve the settlement, which can’t take effect until the court has officially signed off. Class members, including anyone who objects to the settlement, can request permission to speak at the hearing.

Per the court docket, a number of objections and comments have been filed (under seal, so they’re not publicly viewable). Resolving these could take considerable time.

When Will Class Members Receive Payment?

All objections and disputes must be resolved before the settlement can be finalized and payouts disbursed, which could substantially extend the date of final approval. Right now, the FAQ estimates an initial payout date of August 10, 2026, but I would not advise anyone to hold their breath.

An Interesting Tidbit

If you’re a Writer Beware regular, you may remember my post about ClaimsHero, a third-party filer that specializes in recruiting claimants in class action lawsuits and filing individual claims on their behalf en masse (on the theory that individual lawsuits are easier to file than class actions, while blasting them out in big groups exerts similar pressure on defendants).

Back in November, ClaimsHero was running a highly deceptive ad campaign urging Anthropic class members to let it represent them, but not making clear that doing so would opt them out of the settlement. ClaimsHero got thoroughly smacked down by the judge in the case, and was forced to back off the ads and change the information on its website.

It’s still causing trouble for class members, though. It’s now recruiting for third party filings against other AI companies, and it is still aggressively soliciting class members, using the master list of eligible works to identify them (you may have received one or more of these solicitations; I’ve gotten several myself). This has, understandably, caused confusion, and class counsel is requesting that the settlement website FAQ be amended to clarify that ClaimsHero has nothing to do with the settlement.

Watch for an upcoming blog post on this subject.

The post Deadline Approaching to File a Claim in the Anthropic Settlement appeared first on Writer Beware.

For writers chasing a traditional publishing contract, an email from Big 5 publisher Simon & Schuster inviting submission might seem like a dream come true.

Just one problem: major publishers like S&S, which acquire mainly via reputable literary agents and expect manuscripts to come to them rather than the other way around, don’t email random authors out of the blue. Also, impersonation scams are extremely common these days, with fraudsters posing as publishers, literary agents, film production companies, even editors (see my previous post on this subject). Any publishing- or movie rights-related email or phone call that you can’t tie directly to a submission or a contact you yourself made is highly likely to be a scam–and with generative AI infesting every aspect of the writing scam industry, the scams can be quite elaborate and authentic-seeming.

Given the amount of time I spend writing and warning about such things, it’s always funny (well, kind of) when an impersonation scammer tries to target me.

The Bait

A few weeks ago, this landed in my Inbox.

Beyond the two warning signs mentioned above, the email address is a huge red flag. A Big 5 publisher (or, in fact, any other publisher) would be emailing from their own web domain–not a Gmail address. (Gmail addresses are also a feature of a certain type of scam from overseas.) Nor does a publisher like S&S need to tout the benefits it provides as if it were competing for authors (which it very much doesn’t have to do).

I decided to have some fun.

“Tell me more!” I wrote back, in the guise of a first-time author. Within hours, I received an invitation to submit, along with a fairly standard list of information to include. (Another marker of fakeness: the response arrived at 2:22 am my time on February 11, but the timestamp in the header indicated that the scammer sent it at 8:22 am, also on February 11. Since both I and S&S are on the East Coast of the USA, there shouldn’t have been any time difference at all. That discrepancy, with the scammer six hours ahead, was evident throughout our email exchange.)

Here’s what I sent, attaching three chapters of an unmarketable trunk novel donated by a friend of Writer Beware for use in just such circumstances. As you can see, I didn’t try to make it convincing–nor did I delete my signature, which includes not just my personal website, but both of the sites I run for Writer Beware.

This is the kind of query that publishers (or agents) tend to immediately delete. But S&S loved it! Within hours I received–oh joy!–a publishing offer, plus an extremely elaborate “publishing plan” covering all the many things S&S intended to do for me and my terrible book: editing, production timelines, marketing and sales strategy, author platform development, series and movie potential, and much more. And the cherry on top of this very fake sundae: a $500,000 advance, guaranteed to make any newbie author’s head explode.

The snippet below represents less than a quarter of the email, but it should give you a sense of the level of detail. This kind of ornate confabulation costs the scammer nothing, since it’s all done with prompts and chatbots.

The Switch

Naturally, newbie writer Victoria Strauss was thrilled. “This is so amazing! Sign me up!” I wrote back. At which point the “switch” part of the bait-and-switch kicked in (note the ongoing time difference, with the scammer six hours ahead: this arrived at 6:54 pm my time, on February 11).

Wait, what? Novice novelist Victoria Strauss was confused. Why would she have to pay? Wasn’t it true that traditional publishers never required authors to pay for anything? What was going on?

There followed a lengthy back-and-forth, with me asking innocent questions and the scammer trying to convince me that asking me to “invest” $200 to $500 in my literary future was actually a totally normal thing that S&S would do. Throughout these interchanges, they nudged me whenever I took a few hours to respond: how are you doing today? What do you think? Can we move forward with this now? This kind of pressure, along with claims of limited time or limited openings, is a common scammer tactic: they want to hurry you up so you don’t have time for careful thought.

Eventually they abandoned the traditional publishing pretense and admitted that what they were really trying to sell me was self-publishing–apparently expecting me to forget the elaborate trad pub plans and gigantic advance they’d initially promised. (Notice that the scammer is no longer signing off as “The Editorial & Acquisitions Team”, but with a probably fictitious name.)

The prices, which it took them another couple of emails to cough up, ranged from a fairly standard self-publishing starter package for $1,500 to an “elite bestseller package” padded with ripoff nonsense like “full author branding strategy” and “ongoing post-launch performance tracking” for $15,000. Yet another switch, since a few emails back they’d told me I’d be paying $500 at most.

The Reveal

I could have gone back and forth with Zahara/fake S&S much longer than I did (one of the hallmarks of AI-driven writing scams is the scammers’ willingness to engage in near-endless email dialog in order to keep the potential victim on the hook), but I have, you know, a life, and anyway it was no longer interesting.

So I asked, as I always do when I lead scammers on, for payment information, specifically requesting wire transfer instructions, since that forces them to hand over banking information. (Note: you should NEVER do this. Unlike credit card payments, wire transfers can’t be reversed…which is why scammers like them.)

Requiring payment to a third-party, often described as a “financial manager”, is typical of AI-driven scams from Nigeria, which, per the many wire transfer instructions I’ve collected from scammers over the past months, favor accounts with Wells Fargo and to a lesser extent, Kansas City-based Lead Bank.

Additionally, the name on the account is Nigerian; and remember the six-hour time difference? Nigeria is six hours ahead of the US East Coast, where I am. An additional indicator: the +0100 that follows the timestamp in the emails above. It identifies timezones that include West Africa, and is a useful, though not infallible, way to tell where a scammer is really located (since most scammers from overseas have fake US, UK, or Canadian business addresses).

Remember I mentioned the nudging? Fake S&S “followed up” three times in the two days after they sent the payment information (AI scammers often keep pushing for a tedious amount of time, even if you refuse their offers or tell them in no uncertain terms to buzz off). Their final message:

Which Google Translate says means “It’s a disaster”, but the wider internet suggests is a harsh Yoruba insult. So maybe they figured it out?

At any rate, it was time to terminate this small adventure. So I blocked them.

Generative AI is Making Scams Worse

I had fun trolling the S&S impersonator by pretending to be a clueless newbie author. But such scams are no joke. They are aggressive, prevalent, and the use of generative AI can make them extremely polished and convincing–not just impersonation scams like this one, but the highly personalized approaches that are flooding writers’ Inboxes, with lavish details and glowing praise designed to make you believe that the scammer has really read your book.

The goal, always, is to trick writers into handing over money. Though the scammer may not say so initially, that’s the destination they will inevitably arrive at. Any demand for money where upfront payment isn’t standard–which includes not just traditional publishers and literary agents, but Goodreads Litopia lists, self-publishing on KDP and IngramSpark, book club invitations, reading challenges, magazine features, print and radio interviews, and more–is a warning sign.

Hopefully this post has suggested some useful tricks and tools you can use to recognize and investigate the scams that land in your Inbox.

The post Not Simon & Schuster: Deconstructing an Impersonation Scam appeared first on Writer Beware.

This is yet another Writer Beware post about allegations of royalties long left unpaid. But it’s also about the challenges of work-for-hire arrangements, and what can potentially go wrong when intellectual property repeatedly changes hands.

The Complicated Background

The BattleTech and Shadowrun franchises–which included both games and novels–were originally developed and published in the 1980s and 1990s by FASA Corporation, a publisher of role-playing and board games. FASA closed down in 2001, and the two franchises were transferred to a new company called WizKids, founded by former FASA employees.

In 2003, the Topps Company, which manufactures trading cards and other collectibles (and candy, including the iconic Bazooka bubble gum), acquired WizKids and its IP, in a bid to expand its entertainment holdings. Topps closed WizKids down in 2008, citing economic factors; it subsequently sold WizKids and its IP to the National Entertainment Collectibles Association, but retained rights to BattleTech and Shadowrun.

Topps itself has changed hands more than once; it’s now owned by digital sports platform Fanatics Inc., which acquired it in 2022.

The Dispute

In 2016, Topps signed new contracts with two authors and two authors’ heirs for a total of fourteen books in the BattleTech and Shadowrun universes, written between 1996 and 2003 and published originally by FASA or WizKids (you can see all four contracts here, here, here, and here).

As with most novels produced for media franchises, the original publishing contracts were work-for-hire, with the publisher owning the copyrights. The new Topps contracts supersede those original agreements, with no gap between old and new (the old contracts are said to have “remained in full force and effect up until the Effective Date” of the new agreements, and also to have terminated as of that date) and no rights under the old agreements reverting to the authors. The copyright assignment “is deemed to apply retroactively to the date of initial publication of the Works by Publisher’s Predecessors”.

Language in the new contracts alludes to disputes between the authors/heirs and the original publishers, involving royalties and other matters:

There are also payments to the author or heir of one-time fees (Clause 7.a.) as “full and complete settlement of any Claims” up until the effective date of the new contracts; and a clause releasing Topps and its predecessors from all claims and liabilities, and barring the authors/heirs from suing Topps or its predecessors for any claims under the old contracts, including for “any failure to report or pay royalties under the Original Agreements and/or the unauthorized licensing of rights beyond the scope of the Original Agreements.”

All of which makes it at least somewhat ironic that the same authors and heirs are now suing Topps for non-payment of royalties under the new agreements.

The lawsuit, which can be seen here, alleges breach of contract, claiming that Topps has failed to report or pay royalties for any of the contracted books for 2022, 2023, and 2024, despite “repeated demands” (note the additional allegation in #19 below, which points to delinquency on the part of the original publishers):

Each of the authors/heirs make similar allegations. Overall, they estimate that they are owed at least $200,000 in unpaid royalties, and are asking the court to award monetary damages of at least that amount plus interest, compensatory damages of at least that amount plus interest, and the authors’/heirs’ attorney fees and expenses.

What’s Next?

The lawsuit was filed last August in the Supreme Court of New York County, and service was acknowledged in October.

Since then, there doesn’t appear to have been any movement in the case, with no response as yet from Topps. (Case documents are public record and can be accessed online; click the Case Information link in the right-hand menu and then paste in the case index number, which can be found in the top right corner of each page of the lawsuit.)

Work-for-hire is an area of publishing where exploitative contracts and poor treatment of writers is all too common. In this case, the repeated transfers of IP and the apparent failures of the original publishers make the situation even more complicated.

I will keep an eye on the case and update this post as information comes in. If you’re a BattleTech or Shadowrun author with complaints similar to those in the lawsuit, please reach out to SFWA or contact Writer Beware.

The post Authors and Authors’ Estates Sue The Topps Company for Unpaid Royalties appeared first on Writer Beware.