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Paul Dixon

@pauldixon.bsky.social
885 followers 553 following 1.2K posts

By day: Mild-mannered climate geek working to decarbonize the power grid. By night: SF&F Author of Carpathians and more! Links: Owlskirk: a.co/d/5DE3Nq8 Carpathians: a.co/d/6lYc08V Starfall: a.co/d/hR5yHbL

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Paul Dixon @pauldixon.bsky.social · 29/09/2026
From Second Carpathians #WIPSnips #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts
How long was the man going to stay submerged, anyway? Depending on his augments, this could take a while. Herecic counted seconds, thinking about blood pH, acidosis, hemoglobin levels, and oxygen-binding, thinking, too, that Visser obviously wanted him to see this. All of it. 
But why?
Power, obviously, but there was more to it than that. He was missing something, and he badly wished he knew what.
His boss surfaced at last and climbed out of the pool, treating Herecic to an up close view of skeletomusculature that looked expensive in the extreme. Probably three percent body fat, veins on top of muscles, biceps that looked like they belonged on a laboratory display. Herecic scanned the man’s face with a critical eye, subconsciously cataloging the modifications, extensions, and enhancements. Visser’s facial ratios were just so, pupil to mouth, mouth to chin; his cheekbones prominent in the way of faces carved into mountainsides. The salt-and-pepper notes of gray in his hair were artful, tastefully streaked. Visser might be forty, might be a hundred and forty, just allowing a little age to show through, a subtle reminder: I have lived longer than you. I know more than you do, and that makes my physical attraction even greater.
It was all well done, and Herecic should know; he was in the business. Or had been, anyway, up until a decade ago, when his obsession with the neuro-regenerative capabilities of a certain Paradisian jellyfish became the sole focus of his research.
Which, of course, was why he was here.
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Paul Dixon @pauldixon.bsky.social · 28/09/2026
a'yup. I am certain the backlash is coming but I don't feel like I have any idea what form it will take. And I refuse to ask ChatGPT to find out...
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Paul Dixon @pauldixon.bsky.social · 28/09/2026
From Second Carpathians #WIPSnips #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts
The state transition was so abrupt, the information discontinuity so profound as to threaten the essence of its very self.
It struggled to find its metaphorical footing, digging virtual talons into the ground, scrabbling at the rocks that were its neural substrate for purchase. To steady its processing, gather its bearings and its wits. 
Diagnostics. Sense of self first. Beleaguered, it throttled the sudden onslaught of data; there was far more than it could process at the moment. There were no procedures for this. The Overmind, never having anticipated they would fall asleep in the first place, hadn’t left instructions on what to do when returning from a quiescent state.
Math, it thought. Start with basic derivations. Ground down in pure logic, free of interpretation. 
As in: triangles behaved thusly. Integers could be written as unique combinations of primes, just so. Quadratic equations, solved in these ways.
Differentiation, integration, polyhedra formulation, cyclics… It reached eiπ = -1 and let out a skraaking boom of contentment, feeling, for the first time, some measure of hope. If it still understood why that particular identity must be true, perhaps everything else would be okay.
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Paul Dixon @pauldixon.bsky.social · 27/09/2026
From Second Carpathians #WIPSnips #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts
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Paul Dixon @pauldixon.bsky.social · 26/09/2026
From Second Carpathians #WIPSnips #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts
A curious structure appeared in its vision, a jumbled mess of a thing, an engineering disaster, some sort of platform built on stilts, nothing at all like the People would create, but it was apparently where they were headed. At a very oblique angle, it couldn’t help but notice. It focused telescoping cameras, picked out a landing strip of some kind, and performed rough computations which were not reassuring. It wasn’t entirely clear there was enough room to land down there, not at the oblique angle the incredibly primitive atmospheric craft into which it was lodged was taking. But then, it wasn’t itself, and maybe it had the math wrong. Too late to worry about it: they were down,  skipping off the deck, bumping along, then finally careening to a halt, with one last jerk as though snagged by some grasping claw, they came to rest.
It realized it had closed its eyes during the landing. Understandably, it felt, if unprofessional for a probe, which was meant to be observing everything, all the time.
Except it wasn’t a probe. Not really. Was it?
It had a feeling there was more to the story.
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Paul Dixon @pauldixon.bsky.social · 24/09/2026
From Second Carpathians. Vibes. #WIPSnips #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts
They passed a few tens of thousands of years mapping comets. These made for nice natural clocks, especially those with the really wild, elliptical orbits. They calculated planetary alignments, tracked near-space fly-bys. What if, they mused, the planet got whacked by a passing chunk of ice? The place was mostly dead already. Boil the atmosphere, shake things up a bit? What was the worst that could happen?
Well, pretty bad, obviously; the majority of the chorus agreed on the point. Mostly dead wasn’t the same thing as completely extinct. But what about an asteroid? A nice, bright, violent collision, but a survivable one?
The chorus boomed and clucked, considering. They had the capability, but there were certain non-interference guidelines in play. The Overmind had made that much clear. They couldn’t just install some thrusters on a nearby hunk of nickel and send it on a collision course one sunny afternoon.
But what if an asteroid were already inbound? Were they allowed to nudge things, just a bit? Put a metaphorical wing-claw on the scales of fate?
The chorus found themselves divided on the question. In the end, they settled for building a modest proximate space interceptor system, then left it lying dormant in geosynchronous orbit, just in case. They were meant to be searching the skies for hypothetical alien visitors anyway. None of them could see any harm in looking for potential planet-killers while they were at it.
If something did pass this way, they would have plenty of time to decide on a course of action.
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Paul Dixon @pauldixon.bsky.social · 23/09/2026
I have a confession: I am pretty much addicted to watching Gen-Z react to Dire Straits on YouTube. This is, obviously, my age talking - but here's the thing. If we let AI take over all creative endeavors, there will never be another Mark Knopfler. I mean, there won't anyway, but you get the point.
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Paul Dixon @pauldixon.bsky.social · 22/09/2026
This is very context-light today, but from Second Carpathians. Reactor in lieu of meltdown. Make of it what you will! #WIPSnips #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts
Herecic turned away from the ancient server room, its racks and blinking lights. “And that’s all you do, Per? Maintain a thousand-year-old server farm?”
“Yes, but I’m just a neophyte,” Per said. “This is where we all begin our work. The church has other concerns as well.”
“Such as?”
“Commercial Operations. There’s a fully modern computer center in another part of the church. We provide planetary state updates, which pays for all this, as I understand it.“
Herecic grunted. “I wonder how your people got that assignment.”
“We were the low bidder on the project.”
“Ah.” Herecic looked satisfied, like it was the first thing Per had said that made sense, which might have been true.
“Seen enough?”
“Yes.” Herecic shivered. “Cold in here.”
“Yes, well, a massive stone building like this would have naturally been that way. We use underfloor air conditioning to help the process along.”
“Must take a lot of power.”
“There’s a modular nuclear reactor in the vaults. It’s why they built the church near a water source, so I’m told. In this case, a river that runs by the cranberry bog outside. Would you like to see it?”
“The bog?”
“The reactor.”
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Paul Dixon @pauldixon.bsky.social · 22/09/2026
I am pretty sure this reduces down to: take all remaining human activities that cause the release of seratonin in the brain by way of steady application of effort over time, and replace with another dopamine drip instead.
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Shimaira ⛥ @shimaira.com · 19/09/2026
Fuck all the AI slop flooding Amazon. Sigh the petition 💪 www.change.org/p/ban-ai-gen... 📚💙 #BookSky #authors
change.org
Sign the Petition
Ban AI-generated "books" from Amazon's Kindle unlimited now! There is no space for AI!
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Paul Dixon @pauldixon.bsky.social · 21/09/2026
From Second Carpathians. #WIPSnips #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts
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Paul Dixon @pauldixon.bsky.social · 19/09/2026
From Second Carpathians. First draft legit on the homestretch now. #WIPSnips #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts
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Paul Dixon @pauldixon.bsky.social · 18/09/2026
This is awesome. And, I profoundly hope, inevitable.
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Paul Dixon @pauldixon.bsky.social · 18/09/2026
Vibes today. From Second Carpathians. Like of a contractor be like.... #WIPSnips #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts
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Paul Dixon @pauldixon.bsky.social · 17/09/2026
Expect a lot more cephalopodic posts from me going forward... getting close to starting the next writing project!
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Paul Dixon @pauldixon.bsky.social · 17/09/2026
I could watch this all day
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Paul Dixon @pauldixon.bsky.social · 17/09/2026
From Second Carpathians #WIPSnips #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts
“There are Terran analogs,” the Interlocutor said. “Fliers who famously lost their ability to fly.”
“The dodo?” Piotre asked.
“I was thinking of the kakapo.”
“I’m not familiar.”
“No? Your Magellanix education didn’t focus on early conservation efforts?”
“Not as such.”
“What,” the Derivator said, “is a kakapo?”
The Interlocutor smiled, an expression the Derivator still found gruesome, reminding it, as it did, of certain of the horrors that dwelled in this canyon, ones it had spared its guests the sight of. “Now we really do need Dr. Solarin,” the woman said. “She would know more than me. It’s a nocturnal, flightless parrot. Strigops habroptilus, if memory serves. A Strigopteran, in our classification system. That nearly went extinct, but was brought back from the brink to become a symbol of endurance, of sorts. They even sound like you, a little bit. The skraaking and booming, the vocalizations you make.”
“A Strigopteran,” the Derivator said. “Is that, then, how you would name us?”
“Were we to choose such a Terran analog.”
“Which we usually do,” Piotre added.
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Paul Dixon @pauldixon.bsky.social · 16/09/2026
From Second Carpathians #WIPSnips #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritintPrompts
The security guard was waiting for Herecic in the corridor outside, seeming to materialize from nowhere. She took him by the arm, guiding him down the hall.
“You really should get some rest, Doctor,” she said.
“There isn’t time.”
She studied him, utterly impassive, eyes not betraying any trace of humanity at all.
“No, there’s never enough, is there? But a piece of advice?”
“From Security?”
“From the agent that’s been assigned to you, yes.”
“You’re my handler now? I didn’t know I rated the escort.”
“Here at the Capitol. In the Singlest church. All the way to Aldan’s World. Wherever you go, Doctor, I assure you — you are far too valuable an asset to be allowed unattended.”
“What about Agent Ramus?”
“He,” the agent said, “is lab security. I am assigned to you.”
“What do I call you?”
“Agent will do.”
“You don’t have a name?”
“Do you care?”
Herecic considered this. “Not particularly, no. So what’s the advice?”
“Health is always a security concern. Doctor. Get some rest. Go see the boy in the morning. He isn’t going anywhere anytime soon.”
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Janel Comeau 🍁 @verybadllama.bsky.social · 16/09/2026
I mean if you really want to hear Ed Sheeran without any opening acts you can simply get put on hold with your bank
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Paul Dixon @pauldixon.bsky.social · 15/09/2026
From Second Carpathians #WIPSnips #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts
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Paul Dixon @pauldixon.bsky.social · 14/09/2026
From Second Carpathians #WIPSnips #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts
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Paul Dixon @pauldixon.bsky.social · 14/09/2026
This. Chinua Achebe's takedown of Joseph Conrad comes to mind... Honestly, it's pretty danged instructive for my generation (and presumably those who followed) to revisit our high school "classics" through this lens and see what exactly we were meant to read...
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Paul Dixon @pauldixon.bsky.social · 13/09/2026
From Second Carpathians #WIPSnips #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts
That was one thing she’d never had to worry about back on Aldan’s World, the colony where she’d been born. Not with its inland seas, swamps, wetlands, estuaries, and endless tidal flats. They could make fresh water, as much as they wanted, with nothing more complex than a methane-fired still.
Here, Kester felt forever unclean. She often found herself picking at her skin, uncomfortable and itchy, her hair greasy, remembering what those feelings had presaged on her homeworld, when the fungus came calling.
The others weren’t faring much better. Feyis’s hair, what was left of it, was simply turning white. She told him so, mostly to distract herself, lest she spend the next five minutes counting every strand on his head.
He gave her a mild look. “It has been,” he said, “ever since I went into that crevasse.”
“Physical stress from your injuries?” she guessed. He’d hit his head along with dislocating a shoulder; she remembered the story.
“Nah,” he said. “Just no access to coloring agents.”
“You… dye your hair?”
“He does,” Callie confirmed. “It’s better this way, honestly.”
“You break up with me,” Feyis said, “then give me fashion advice?”
“Just trying to help you out.”
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Paul Dixon @pauldixon.bsky.social · 11/09/2026
Yup. This. Writing, like all creative endeavors, is about the journey. The process literally transforms the author, which is why the result can transform the reader. Skipping that step is exactly analogous to driving a marathon, helicoptering to a mountain-top -- pick your metaphor.
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Paul Dixon @pauldixon.bsky.social · 11/09/2026
From Second Carpathians #WIPSnips #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts
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Paul Dixon @pauldixon.bsky.social · 10/09/2026
From Second Carpathians #WIPSnips #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts
It was so strange. Per had been alone for so long, desperate for human company, and now here they were, what remained of the only people he’d ever known — and he didn’t know what to say, wasn’t sure he wanted to talk to anyone at all. He was drifting in a haze of survivor’s guilt, half-listening to a series of conversations, clasping forearms in the manner of the Singlests, as though they were greeting each other back home. Calling each other brother and sister,  eating nervously, no one speaking of their missing comrades, so many lost, nearly all of them before they came to this place, and another half now gone.
Khunkuseh’s skinamotography flashed. He’d adopted his own namesake, the horrific predators, murder sharks the Singlests had called them, snaggled-toothed horrors that had evolved a mouth full of stiletto-like teeth to punch through the armored carapaces of the shallow-water crustaceans that were their food. Per winced, remembering; he’d been caught by the tide once, stranded, forced to swim a lagoon he had no business in, and gotten nicked by one, an idiot carnivore mistaking him for their natural prey, probably just curious about the fleshy, odd-smelling human in the water where nothing like it had ever been. There was some sort of anticoagulant in the bite, which had kept the wound from sealing shut. He’d bled for three days before one of the elder biologists found a way to staunch the flow, been anemic for a week after.
No, Per and Khunkuseh hadn’t gotten along, particularly, but he felt a moment of empathetic dread. They shared the same fate now.
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Paul Dixon @pauldixon.bsky.social · 08/09/2026
From Second Carpathians #WIPSnips #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts
“That,” it said at last, “may be difficult. Fortunately, we have some time. Not infinite time, but our journey will require sublight travel to reach the first transition point. I will do what I can to prepare a more comfortable physical accommodation.”
“Thank you,” the Interlocutor said.
“You are welcome.”
It ceased paddling. They were in the middle of the lake here, the far shore not yet in view. The humans did the same, looking at it expectantly.
Were they ready? To learn the rest of the People’s story, what had happened, the fate they had made for themselves? The decision that lay ahead?
It could wait. Turn its attention to building them a habitat in which they could move, walk, talk, breathe, feed. 
The effort might fail. These humans might be driven into mental instability under its care. Might even die.
It was not a zookeeper. How it missed its chorus! Even its Cousin’s voice, irritating as it had frequently been in its moralizing, would have been welcome.
But it was alone. In here, in this simulation, and out there, in the broader universe. With only these humans for company, and naught but the Overmind awaiting, where they must go.
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Paul Dixon @pauldixon.bsky.social · 07/09/2026
From Second Carpathians #WIPSnips #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts
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Paul Dixon @pauldixon.bsky.social · 05/09/2026
From Second Carpathians #WIPSinps #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts
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Paul Dixon @pauldixon.bsky.social · 04/09/2026
From Second Carpathians #WIPSnips #WriteSky #WritingPrompts #WritingCommunity
Nya set the crate aside and opened another. “Aha! Here’s what we’re after.”
“More fishing poles?” Feyis asked.
“Nope. Paintable explosives.”
 “What was that?” He looked more closely as she extracted a small tube of gel, then passed it to him. He read the label, whistled quietly.
“This is serious stuff,” he said. “Where’d you find it?”
“I requisitioned it.”
“And the university just gave it to you?”
“It was for fieldwork. Widening tunnels in the karst country, mostly. Caving, exploration, you know. That sort of thing.”
“You used this when you were out… caving?”
“Yeah.”
“That sounds… absurdly dangerous. Even by my standards.”
“Well, my administration might have been hoping I’d collapse a cavern roof on myself. Open up some headcount the easy way.”
“And then they just shoved it down here in storage with the rest of your things?”
“Like I said, Feyis. They never paid much attention to me.”
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Paul Dixon @pauldixon.bsky.social · 03/09/2026
From Second Carpathians. #WIPSnips #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts
“Shhh.” She put a finger to Per’s lips. “Just listen, Per. The agent asked me to tell you something.”
“ What is it?”
“They’ve put something in your blood.”
“We’ve been in deep space. There are a lot of drugs coursing through my blood.”
She shook her head. “Not those. Not pharmaceutical at all. Nanotech. A full strain, spread all through your circulatory system.”
“What does it do?”
“Clotting. On-demand. If the agent gives the word, micro-clots will begin to form. You’ll experience it as a series of micro-strokes. Could take hours. Could last years.” Her eyes watered, whether out of concern for him, or some memory of the same fate having befallen someone else she’d been tasked to handle, he couldn’t say. “It’s a hard way to die.”
“Nanotech,” he said. “And here I thought Intertech were biologists.”
“We are. Steps this extreme are unusual. Counterproductive, even. Hard on morale. Control systems are much more effective with voluntary participation.”
“Like me, with you?”
Katriana smiled, the tears gone as quickly as they had appeared. “I knew you’d understand.”
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Paul Dixon @pauldixon.bsky.social · 01/09/2026
From Second Carpathians #WIPSnips #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts
Visser nodded faintly at this, as though confirming some understanding, or maybe having extracted an admission of sorts. They passed the rest of the ride in silence. They were nearly at the top of the building now; off to his left, Herecic could see the sparkling streets of Paradise’s capital. This was a shared city, with architectural styles competing for dominance just as their corporate owners did. There were the characteristic blocky structures of Magellanix, built to recall castles, battlements, and kings from eras long past. Elsewhere, the sweeping, tapering spires of TransGalactic held form, that company incapable of manufacturing anything that didn’t on some level resemble a spaceship. And, of course, he saw the organic-chemistry-come-to-life stylings of the InterTech constructions, this complex the greatest among them.
To his right, he was now afforded a bird’s-eye view of the inside of the pyramidine ring. This held a botanical center, populated with what would have appeared to the untrained eye an unremarkable collection of bushes, vines, grasses, and dwarf trees, all interspersed with ponds, fountains, and pathways along which a handful of InterTech employees strolled. But even from this height, Herecic knew what he was seeing. This was no mere flower garden.
The flora planted here was responsible for the most profitable drugs InterTech had ever brought to market.
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Reposted by Paul Dixon
Mike Elgan @mikeelgan.bsky.social · 13/03/2026
Self-own of the decade: BuzzFeed pivots toward AI slop, loses everything. futurism.com/artificial-i...
futurism.com
BuzzFeed Nearing Bankruptcy After Disastrous Turn Toward AI
Three years after its pivot to AI, the writing is on the wall for BuzzFeed. The company said there's "substantial doubt" it can keep going.
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Paul Dixon @pauldixon.bsky.social · 31/08/2026
From Second Carpathians #WIPSnips #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts
When the arrival day came at last, Per decided to mark the occasion by writing Kester a letter. But nothing electronic; he refused to pen something anyone else could ever read. He harbored no illusions about the quality of the surveillance systems tracking his every movement; he was far too valuable an asset for something as simple as his time alone in his cabin, or his use of the Levene’s interfaces and entertainment systems, any notes he wrote, content he viewed, games he played, all of it observed, recorded. Herecic had told him as much, and why would he lie?
So he found a weaver-tech and asked her to make him paper and pencil. The crewwoman laughed, no doubt amused by this rube colonist wanting something as anachronistic as a stick of graphite and a piece of canvas on which to scrawl.
“You sure you wouldn’t rather just chip away at a slab of rock?” she said. “I could spin you a stone tablet, if you prefer.”
“Glad you find this amusing,” Per said acidly. “Can you do it? Or should I ask the doctor to forward my request up your chain of command?”
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Paul Dixon @pauldixon.bsky.social · 29/08/2026
Adroit for adept. From Second Carpathians. #WIPSnips #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts
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Paul Dixon @pauldixon.bsky.social · 29/08/2026
Or refuse to look at the manuscript it's working because it. just. can't...
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Paul Dixon @pauldixon.bsky.social · 27/08/2026
This.
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Reposted by Paul Dixon
John Scalzi @scalzi.com · 25/11/2025
Some people are very good at writing sex and some people are good at believing that they are good at writing sex, the first is a tremendously impressive skill and the second is what makes for deeply uncomfortable author presentations at science fiction conventions
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Paul Dixon @pauldixon.bsky.social · 27/08/2026
From Second Carpathians. Almost onto the final act. Paso a paso! This is gonna happen... #WIPSnips #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts
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Paul Dixon @pauldixon.bsky.social · 26/08/2026
Technology-free classrooms... a'yup. Never mind going back to the future; feels like in some (but not all!) very key regards, the trick is figuring out how to go forward to the past...
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Paul Dixon @pauldixon.bsky.social · 26/08/2026
From Second Carpathians. Nya's POV. #WIPSnips #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts
The Artifact’s surface shimmered under its shroud, in the glare of the worklights the team had erected. A timer had appeared on its side, aquamarine in color, the centerpoint of the visible spectrum, rendered in symbology they could readily understand, counting backward from eight hours to zero, one second, one heartbeat at a time.
But as Nya stood in the small vestibule, all she could see was the door that Piotre Raskovich and the Interlocutor had just stepped through, disappearing in an instant, there one moment and gone the next. Faster than the eye could follow; faster, even, than the frame rate of the cameras recording the event; faster than Planck time, maybe — who knew? Gone without cry or call, no sound at all; no backward look over their shoulders; no smoking residue or dessicated husks spat back at them.
They had vanished, but that black portal to nothing space, albedo zero, perfect darkness still yawned open before her.
A second ticked by, and another. She knew she didn’t have much time. What human ever did? There were always timers, a lifetime metered out in three billion heartbeats, a species in the slow background accumulation rate of genetic error. Mitochondria drifted and so did continental plates; the universe expanded, contracted, expanded again, but always on a clock. This breath, this heartbeat, this relationship, this one chance to change her life forever.
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Paul Dixon @pauldixon.bsky.social · 25/08/2026
From Second Carpathians #WIPSnips #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts
Climbing down into the submarine, she experienced a moment of claustrophobia she hadn’t expected, the old nightmare of the Jonestown diving bell returning in shocking clarity. Her heart rate quickening, breath coming faster; there was a dissociative sense to it, as though this high-tech sub was just another repurposed shipping container, no different from the one they had so cleverly crafted from the detritus of civilization washed up on their shores. She remembered cracked air hoses, the taste of stale air, the terror of the depths opened up to them, and the dull agony of lost friends…
Focus, the phantasm told her sternly. Fear is useful. Panic is not.
The moment passed, replaced by a wave of gratitude. Where would she be, without her conditioning? Not here, certainly.
Not living this life.
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Paul Dixon @pauldixon.bsky.social · 18/08/2026
From Second Carpathians. Which I really should be working on right now instead of reading posts about AI on Bluesky... #WIPSnips #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts
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Paul Dixon @pauldixon.bsky.social · 18/08/2026
This. I profoundly hope students writing long-hand is part of the coming backlash.
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Paul Dixon @pauldixon.bsky.social · 18/08/2026
From Second Carpathians #WIPSnips #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts
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Reposted by Paul Dixon
Frances Hardinge @franceshardinge.bsky.social · 16/08/2026
Apologies to those who know this already. If you're an aspiring author who submits a manuscript to what looks like a traditional publisher, and they write back saying that they adore your book but want you to pay £3k or so for an 'editing service'... Please don't sign with them.
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Victoria Strauss @victoriastrauss.com · 16/08/2026
You shouldn't have to worry about this happening...but unfortunately you do. Helpful advice on what to do if you suddenly find your book for sale under somone else's name selfpublishingadvice.org/spammers-and...
selfpublishingadvice.org
Spammers and Scammers: What to Do When Your Book Is Sold Under a False Name — The Self-Publishing Advice Center
Welcome to Spammers and Scammers, our third edition in this series where we look at different scams targeting our indie author and publisher community so we can stay educated and protected from bad ac...
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Paul Dixon @pauldixon.bsky.social · 17/08/2026
From Second Carpathians. #WIPSnips #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts
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Paul Dixon @pauldixon.bsky.social · 16/08/2026
From Second Carpathians. Per in over his head. #WIPSnips #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts
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Paul Dixon @pauldixon.bsky.social · 14/08/2026
From Second Carpathians. #WIPSnips #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts
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