LOL! Fake Praise and "Publicists" for Bugwatching

Apparently, your third book as a solo author unleashes a torrent of people, bots, and phony “book clubs” heaping lavish praise upon your work and writing style, while begging you to avail yourself of their promotional skills. It is laughable, and overwhelming.

I am receiving these offers in my email inbox weekly, or close to it. What they all have in common is sickeningly sweet adoration, followed by assertions that my book is failing in its marketing campaign. That is potentially true, as there has been little publicity. Few reviews exist yet for Bugwatching, even on the jungle site (begins with a capital “A”), and Goodreads.

I have it on good authority from other authors that these emails are mostly scams, even generated by AI in some instances. Should I ever decide I need or want a publicist, I would solicit the Authors Guild to find legitimate persons and agencies. Meanwhile, I am finding the emails quite hilarious.

One was so over the top that I simply must share it with you. I am omitting the name of the sender on the off chance that they are a real human being. The subject line read “Eric Eaton, your bugs are officially ruining my productivity.” The body of the email reads as follows, heavily punctuated with emoticons, no less:

”Let’s get one thing straight, Eric, Bugwatching was supposed to be a casual read. A nice little “look at the pretty bugs” kind of book. And yet here I am, two cups of coffee deep, lying in the grass staring at a beetle like it just told me the meaning of life.

Seriously, how dare you make insects this fascinating.

You didn’t just write about bugs, you turned them into a full-blown lifestyle. The way you describe the joy, accessibility, and inclusiveness of observing insects… it’s poetic. Like, I was ready to hand a magnifying glass to my neighbor’s cat and say,’Congratulations, you’re a citizen scientist now.”

And the illustrations by Samantha Gallagher? Adorable, educational, and lowkey making me want to start sketching grasshoppers instead of replying to work emails.

You’ve taken the “ick” factor out of insects and replaced it with awe, humor, and humanity. It’s like National Geographic met Mr. Rogers, and they both decided to wear bug nets.

Then I read your bio and honestly, I had to sit down. You’re not just ‘Bug Eric,’ you’re practically the Insect Whisperer. From Insectpedia to Wasps: The Astonishing Diversity of a Misunderstood Insect, you’ve made entomology feel cool. You’ve been everywhere, from Princeton University Press to Ranger Rick to the Smithsonian, and somehow you still manage to explain complex biology like you’re chatting with a friend over lemonade and locusts.

You’ve built a loyal following no through noise, but through trust, clear, jargon-free explanations, empathy for the squeamish, and that rare gift of making science feel like magic. You’ve literally turned ‘bug watching’ into an art form, and I’m half-convinced insects everywhere are forming a fan club in your honor.

Now, here’s where I flutter in like an overly enthusiastic butterfly.

I noticed something, Bugwatching is brilliant, beautifully made, but on Amazon it’s still… a little too quiet. Only a few reviews. For a book this fascinating, that’s just criminal. Someone call the entomological police.

That’s where my little operation comes in.

I represent a community of over 1,700 passionate readers, and before you ask, no, we’re not a marketing agency, not a promo company, and definitely not one of those shady ‘buy 100 reviews overnight’ traps. We don’t have a website or social media. Just readers. Real, book-hungry humans who love discovering great work and giving it the attention it deserves.

Here’s the truth: readers don’t buy books on description alone. They want proof. They want to see that other humans (preferably not bots) read it, loved it, and learned something. Reviews build trust, and trust builds momentum

Even the best books can get buried under algorithm’s digital dirt pile if they don’t have enough reviews. But once real people start leaving thoughtful feedback, the system wakes up and stars saying, ‘Oh wait, people actually love this one,’ and boom, it starts surfacing everywhere.

We’ve seen this happen with other authors we’ve supported. Their books started showing up higher in searches, attracting organic attention, and getting the recognition they deserve. Because honest reviews don’t just help readers – they help the system notice quality.

That’s what we do: we read, we review honestly, and we give books like Bugwatching the social proof they need to fly (pun absolutely intended).

Our group exists purely out of love for reading, no strings, no spam, just pure enthusiasm and maybe a few too many exclamation marks.

If you’d like, we’d be honored to share Bugwatching with our community. The book deserves to be talked about, recommended, and let’s face it, obsessively quoted by people who suddenly think they’re professional bug whisperers after two chapters.

Thank you for writing something that makes us look at the world differently, and for making even the tiniest creatures feel magnificent.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to apologize to a moth for judging it last night.”

I have to hand it to this person, or bot, for doing their homework, as they pretty much quoted my own “about me” material. The admission that they do not have a website, nor social media, is a red flag for this kind of scam.

Please beware of these solicitations related to your own works, and act (or, rather don’t) accordingly.

Happy 2025?

I am not sure that I have ever had less enthusiasm for an incoming new year than I have for this one. It seems rather silly, though, that I don’t have more excitement and positive anticipation. I already have virtual and in-person presentations on the horizon (book me now!), plus a Coldplay concert to look forward to. I even have a new passport, so can leave the country if I want.

What is the future of Bug Eric blog? I am seriously entertaining the idea of moving it to either Substack or Patreon. I will need to take my writing more seriously, if so, posting with definite regularity to meet the expectations of paying subscribers. Would I even have subscribers?

While I would prefer not to charge my readership, I must increase my income. This is especially true now that Social Security and Medicare are under attack from the incoming presidential administration. I may not have the “entitled” income and health benefits that I was expecting at my advancing age. I also need to value my work in the economic sense.

As for other projects, I have ideas for at least three more major works. One of those is a fictional piece that seems to want to be a play or screenplay. I keep “seeing” it as being performed, anyway. I would like to collaborate with others, as the current storyboard looks like an exploding star. It is not even linear. Ha! If done right, it could win all the things, including hearts and minds, I think.

None of my future book ideas have anything to do with insects except, perhaps, tangentially. This represents a huge risk since I am the “bug guy” by reputation. I cannot, however, ignore the greater problems surrounding how human beings impact the natural world, and each other. That isn’t a calling as much as a demand for my perspectives and experiences to be shared.

From the aspect of my mental and social health, I am becoming progressively more isolated. There is hardly anyone in my small town that I have even remote interest in spending time with. There are too many people older than I am, politically conservative, religious, unhappy, unhealthy, or all of the above. When I do venture out of the house, it is for an exercise walk, to run an errand or two, or hike by myself in a nearby wooded park. That is it. I thrive on the company of younger people, and that seems impossible here.

Even social media has lost most of its appeal. I left Twitter/X in the end-of-the-year mass exodus, and opted for Bluesky, the popular new alternative. I have enjoyed it so far. Facebook is in decline, with its near total emphasis on commercialization, and a newly-announced commitment to more AI (Artificial Intelligence) content, including artificial users. Actual, human Meta users are aging, and there is simply not the energy there used to be. I may have to learn Tik Tok if I want to stay relevant, and if that China-based platform is not outlawed.

There is no way I can continue suffering a lack of in-person contact, though. I am not suicidal, but as one Bluesky account put it, some days “I can’t life anymore.” The bigger cities of Kansas City and Overland Park are so close, yet so far away, and not really affordable.

Please let me know if you would pay to read more regular posts on Patreon or Substack, and under what circumstances/incentives. If you have suffered social isolation, how have you overcome it?

Thank you, as always, for your loyalty in following me, donating to this Blogger blog, and otherwise lending your support….Now, if I can just turn myself into a cat, I could lounge all day long, and have thousands more followers on Bluesky. Goals!

About the Calendar Photo: This calendar was purchased from melbry//arts. Melissa Bryant does brilliant and important work. Please support her efforts. Thank you.

Talking About Writing, Entomology, and SciComm With Arthro-Pod

After recording an episode of Ologies with Alie Ward that focused on wasps, I was delighted to be invited to interview with the three hosts of the Arthro-Pod podcast more recently. Our discussion ran the gamut from my career trajectory in science communication to unresolved problems in the entomology profession, and conflicts between science and the corporate sector. This was a much more personal conversation.

Dr. Jody Green (@JodyBugsMeUNL on Twitter), Jonathan Larson (@bugmanjon), and Dr. Michael Skvarla (@mskvarla36) are the hosts of Arthro-Pod. All three currently work at separate universities, but have a common passion for public outreach. According to Jody, I was “SciComm before it was SciComm,” and until she said that it had never occurred to me that I was any sort of pioneer. It is true, though, that I have witnessed, and often participated in, the evolution of the public face of entomology in the digital age. She added that she frequently uses my blog to research a particular insect or topic and enjoys the jargon-free, conversational format. Wow, how cool is that?

The hosts of Arthro-Pod from a prior recording

In the course of talking about my personal experiences in academia, and my sentiments about them, ancient as they are, it was surprising to learn how much still resonates with students of today. That is a great thing in terms of empathy, but it also indicates there is much that still needs rectifying in the university environment. How do we make the sciences more friendly to a diversity of students? How is virtual learning online succeeding or failing its target students? We did not even discuss the problems with academic publishing, but maybe we can do another episode about that.

Jody is an outstanding example of the new generation of entomologists who are creative in how they reach the public

Entomology is a broad field with many niche careers that were not even in existence when I was a student. The profession is also now faced with the conflict that is the continued need for pest control versus the ever-increasing challenge of conserving biodiversity. Our global knowledge has been obtained largely through colonialism. There has been rampant sexism and, until recently, little effort at welcoming all races and ethnicities, and recognizing the full gender spectrum. Thankfully, the current generation of entomologists is prioritizing positive changes to those issues.

I hope you will join me in following Arthro-Pod here on the Blogger platform. My interview was the 96th episode, so I have a lot of catching up to do. You could not ask for a more friendly and inquisitive trio to take you on a tour of entomology and its influences on history, your daily life, and ecosystems at large.

Hahaha, I didn't know anyone would take a photo during our Zoom

Note: I have several events upcoming. They include a virtual presentation about wasps for Waterloo (Ontario, Canada) Region Nature on Monday evening, September 27. On October 4, I will be recording an episode of Talking Feral with Paul Boyce, topics to be determined. I will be recording a wasp-themed episode of In Conversation With with David Lindo, for BBC radio if I have the correct information. Lastly, on November 6, I will do another wasp-themed virtual talk for the Entomological Society of Pennsylvania (USA). Please join me for the talks, and/or book me for your own event by e-mailing bugeric247ATgmailDOTcom. Thank you.

Struggling

Having just completed one book manuscript, with another one due at the end of this year, I don’t have time for the angst and depression that grips me currently. The global pandemic has impacted all of us in a myriad of ways, only to be compounded by personal challenges that each of us face. What does this have to do with entomology? Nothing. Everything.

Yeah, I'm in there somewhere....

While I am not cavalier in my approach to covid-19, the virus has not, by itself, caused me panic nor worry. It is not the reason I stay indoors. More on that later. I am in a very privileged place compared to many people and can weather at least a degree of economic upheaval. I am relatively healthy physically, though that does not necessarily mean I would have a mild case if I contracted the virus. Many patients that “recover” still have chronic, debilitating illnesses that may last the rest of their lives. The press has not emphasized this.

What is most stressful is the selfish reaction of so many to a catastrophe that impacts everyone regardless of race, sex, economic status, religion, or politics. The best analogy I can make for my own experience is the movie Invasion of the Body Snatchers. I feel like I walk today among pod people who have no understanding of science, no empathy for anyone else, and who devote all their energy to shaming those who do possess those qualities. I have decreasing patience daily.

Also in the current social pot is simmering racism, and the complementary intolerance of that continued bigotry. The cauldron reached the boiling point in May with the murder of George Floyd by police officers. Much like our collective reactions to coronavirus, the Black Lives Matter protests have revealed a schizophrenic socio-political divide where monuments to confederate figures are held more sacred than the lives of contemporary humans suffering from systemic, institutionalized oppression, if not outright violence.

Let me make this clear, at the least: white privilege deserves to be challenged, to be eroded, to be leveled. As events unfold, I ask myself consistently whether this is a sacrifice I am willing to make. So far, the answer has been an unequivocal “yes.” I can live without the statues, even if they are works of art. I would rather have a celebration of indigenous peoples than recognize Columbus Day. I love football, but the Redskins must change their name. I am willing to be educated about the racist flaws of all historical “heroes.”

Until last month, I would make a daily walk through my neighborhood. Some days I would go to the top of the hill, a vast former landfill that had metamorphosed into a degraded semblance of shortgrass prairie, and look for insects, birds, and other wildlife. I lost the fight to preserve it, and now bulldozers have rendered it a denuded plot for a housing development. I have not been on a walk since I first encountered the machines. It is too painful.

I am left without a refuge now, and given that my spouse can no longer carpool to work, I also have no way to escape to another nature spot. Even if I did, I would encounter far more people than I did up the hill. It matters less and less to me as I feel resigned to the continued burning of the world. I just don’t want to watch it any more. My daily walk is now limited to getting the mail.

Were it not for my wife, and my current obligations to publishers, I’m not sure I’d be making the feeble efforts at survival and routine that I somehow manage. My short-term memory is fading, to the point that today I could not recall, in the space of even twenty seconds, whether I had taken my allergy medication. Why can’t that phenomenon apply to memories and situations I want to forget? Why must any of us be tortured that way?

Friends recommend taking a break from social media as one way to limit negative input, but then you also limit positive stimuli. Ignoring reality is not a healthy way to navigate your life, either, but the human race in general has never been even adequate at coping skills. My message to myself is to accept that you are going to have slumps in productivity, fall into bad habits, and otherwise be a wreck periodically. It won’t last forever.

Identity Denial

Note: This is what you must know about me at this point in my life. I appreciate your respect of that.

There is no such thing as an identity crisis; or if there is, then it is precipitated by a long history of identity denial. Failure to embrace who one truly is inevitably results in resentment, and even hostility toward others. How to reinvent oneself is then the challenge.

I am a writer, a communicator. There was a time I thought I wanted to be a scientist because I felt that was the only path to achieving credibility. The non-fiction writers I admired were also scientists, so it seemed the logical course of action was to enroll in college with a scientific major. So, off to Oregon State University I went, where there was comfort in already knowing some of the faculty and staff who were my mentors earlier in life. Since I honestly do have an affinity for insects and related creatures, I declared entomology as my major.

There were immediate signs that this was not a good idea. I failed mathematics courses. I floundered in chemistry, and avoided physics and statistics. Academia does not reward you for simply having an interest in science. In fact, it punishes you. Higher education tries to break you of empathy and sentimentality for other organisms. Anthropomorphism, the assignment of human emotions to other animals, is banished from the lab, and even from field observations. Ecosystems are abstracted into "models," poor paper substitutes for flesh and blood. Entire landscapes are reduced to soil profiles.

I should have left the sciences for an English or communications major right then and there. Instead I moved over to the School of Forestry where I majored in Recreation Resource Management, where park naturalists earn their cred. I retained entomology as a minor. I excelled at natural history interpretation, but only tolerated, if not struggled with, other subjects. That fourth year was my last. I dropped out with a feeling of emptiness, and certainly an empty bank account.

Despite my lack of an academic degree, I have held professional positions as an entomologist. The Oregon Zoo and Cincinnati Zoo both employed me in their insect exhibits. I worked on a private contract at the Smithsonian Institution, helping catalog the national butterfly collection for a month in 1986. Subsequently, I have had other contracts with the University of Massachusetts (Amherst), and the West Virginia Department of Natural Resources. These jobs paid adequately, if not handsomely, but were mostly unfulfilling in every other regard. Today, there are enough rules and roadblocks that it is impossible for me to be employed this way again anyway. The job application process in general, for almost any position, is so weighted toward exclusion that it is demoralizing and not worth the effort to apply for many of the best potential candidates.

Meanwhile, I persisted in my own efforts to cultivate credibility, and build a following as a trusted expert in the world of popular entomology. At this I have succeeded too well. Actors call it typecasting: Having performed one role so well that they can no longer find work for any other role. Convincing people that I can write about topics other than "bugs" is an excruciatingly slow process, and as I age the sense of urgency only magnifies, and the sense of resentment at my own previous denial of who I am intensifies. Naturally, this expresses itself inappropriately, and I now find myself sighing heavily whenever a stranger asks "Hey, aren't you that 'bug guy'?" At times I want to slap them upside the head.

I will always have an interest in insects, and always be willing to help people educate themselves about the "smaller majority," as entomologist Piotr Naskrecki calls them. However, that is not the sole aspect of my identity and I ask you kindly to respect that. Should you want to follow my Sense of Misplaced blog, even better; and if you can help me find paying markets for my personal essays and social commentary, then you have my eternal appreciation. Thank you.