Buzz
Previously, we’ve delved into the lives of celebrated authors harboring astonishing secrets and those who exhibit an air of excessive self-importance. Today, however, our focus shifts to lesser-known writers with truly bizarre tales to share—stories that go beyond their literary works.
10. The Child Prodigy Author
In 1917, after her mother passed away, 36-year-old Daisy Ashford stumbled upon a childhood treasure while sorting through her belongings. It was a book she had penned as a young girl, during the time she aspired to become a writer.
Titled The Young Visiters (she was only nine, after all), the tale revolves around Alfred Salteena, a “middle-aged man of 42,” who dreams of becoming a gentleman and marrying his young ward, Ethel Montecue. However, Ethel’s heart belongs to Bernard Clark, a friend of Mr. Salteena who aids him in his pursuit of high society. The story unfolds with humorous mishaps and social blunders.
While the plot wasn’t groundbreaking, when Daisy published the book nearly three decades later, complete with its charming spelling mistakes, it soared to bestseller status. Critics hailed it as “one of literature’s most amusing works,” praising its ridiculous adjectives, glaring typos, and endearing sincerity. It was the earnest attempt of a nine-year-old to mimic adult writing.
Daisy had a knack for inventing words like “sumpshous” and “aristockracy,” and her dialogue was hilariously over-the-top. “You are to me like a Heathen god,” one character whispers romantically. She also had a penchant for vivid descriptions, such as detailing a man’s “slim legs in light brown trousers, perfectly fitted spats, a red rose in his buttonhole, and a stylish cap with a quaint check pattern and tiny flaps for when the weather turned cold.”
Some skeptics even speculated that J.M. Barrie, who wrote the book’s introduction, might have been the true author. However, The Young Visiters was undeniably Daisy’s creation. The book saw eight printings in its debut year and was distributed to World War I veterans to lift their spirits. One copy even reached Queen Mary. Even today, The Young Visiters captivates readers. In 2003, the BBC produced an adaptation featuring Jim Broadbent and Hugh Laurie.
9. The Writer Who Killed His Spouse
Recall O.J. Simpson’s book where he detailed how he might have killed Nicole Brown Simpson and Ronald Goodman? He wasn’t alone in confessing to his wife’s murder through literature. Richard Klinkhammer’s account, however, was far more . . . inventive.
Klinkhammer, a Dutch writer struggling with alcoholism, had a wife named Hannelore who vanished without a trace in 1991. Police quickly identified him as the prime suspect, but despite thoroughly searching his home and property, they found no evidence—not even a body—forcing them to drop the case.
A year later, Klinkhammer penned a tale about his missing wife, a novel titled Wednesday, Ground Meat Day. The book was split into seven gruesome sections, each describing a different method he might have used to kill her. In one particularly disturbing chapter, he grinds her body in a meat grinder and feeds her remains to birds. His publisher found it excessive and poorly written.
Despite its flaws, the shocking story gained traction in Dutch literary circles, turning Klinkhammer into a local celebrity. He sold his house to a young couple, relocated to Amsterdam, and began attending literary events and appearing on television. While he basked in his infamy, the new homeowners decided to renovate the yard, including demolishing an old shed. Beneath its concrete foundation, they unearthed a human skeleton.
When authorities arrested Klinkhammer, he admitted his novel was autobiographical. However, he clarified that he hadn’t used a meat grinder—instead, he had beaten his wife to death. Despite his confession, Klinkhammer received a lenient sentence of six years in prison, serving only about half. Shockingly, after his release in 2003, he found a publisher willing to release his macabre work.
8. The Imposter Navajo
Nasdijj’s life was a harrowing tale of suffering. Born to a violent white father and a Navajo mother battling alcoholism, he lost his mother at seven and endured abuse from his father. As a child, he roamed migrant camps, shielding his younger brother. Later, he adopted a boy with fetal alcohol syndrome (FAS), only to lose him at age six, holding him as he passed away.
The story was heart-wrenching, and critics were captivated by it.
In 1999, Nasdijj penned an article for Esquire about his son, which garnered such acclaim that it led to a book deal. He authored three memoirs, one detailing the adoption and tragic loss of a young AIDS victim, mirroring the fate of his first son. His works received global recognition, and he was awarded a grant to continue chronicling Navajo experiences.
However, doubts arose about Nasdijj’s authenticity, particularly among Native Americans. Sherman Alexie accused him of appropriating stories from other Native American authors, including his own. Navajo scholar Ivan Morris pointed out inconsistencies, such as Nasdijj’s claim of his mother belonging to the non-existent Water Flowing Clan. He also questioned the name “Nasdijj,” which the author claimed meant “to become again.” Morris asserted no such word exists in the Navajo language.
In 2006, LA Weekly revealed Nasdijj as a fake. His true identity was Timothy Patrick Barrus. He never had a younger brother or a son with FAS, didn’t adopt a child with AIDS, and was not of Navajo descent. However, he was an experienced writer, having previously authored gay leather porn and even popularizing the term “leather lit.” The Nasdijj persona wasn’t his first deception; he once wrote a novel about serving in Vietnam, though he had never been in the military.
Barrus admitted to the deception, stating that his work only gained attention after he created Nasdijj. This is both tragic and ironic, as his true identity now garners little to no interest.
7. The Author Who Spoke With Spirits
Pearl Curran’s life was unremarkable at first. Born in the Victorian Era, she left school at 13 following a “nervous breakdown.” Prone to hypochondria, she aspired to be a singer but abandoned that dream after marriage. Childless and often bored, her life changed when she encountered Patience Worth.
In 1912, after her father’s death, Curran attempted to reach him using a Ouija board. Instead, she connected with Patience Worth, a 17th-century Englishwoman who had migrated to America and met a tragic end at the hands of Native Americans. Unwilling to pass on, Patience sought Pearl’s help to achieve literary fame.
Together, Pearl and Patience produced nearly 40 million words, crafting short stories, plays, and seven novels. Their debut novel earned praise from the New York Times as a “remarkable literary achievement.” Pearl also hosted seances where she spontaneously composed poems, allegedly guided by Patience.
Skeptics were puzzled by Pearl’s abilities. How could she produce such vast, high-quality work so swiftly? Was she tapping into her subconscious or manifesting multiple personalities? Her detailed knowledge of the 1600s was equally baffling. Having left school at 13, how did she master 17th-century diets, customs, and wildlife, or describe places she’d never seen?
Some theorized she possessed a photographic memory, recalling everything she’d ever read. Others suspected she was a skilled con artist. In 1919, Pearl wrote “Rosa Alvaro, Entrante,” a story about a Victorian woman who invents a spirit guide to escape boredom. Perhaps Pearl was drawing from her own life.
6. The Notorious Winsted Fabricator
In August 1895, Lou Stone was desperate for money and a compelling story. A journalist for the Winsted Evening Citizen in Connecticut, he knew New York papers would pay $150 for sensational news. However, Winsted was quiet, offering no such material.
Stone decided to invent his own story. He concocted an outrageous tale that, when published, sent New York editors into a frenzy. According to his report, a hairy wild man was roaming Winsted’s forests. Journalists from New York descended on the small town, interviewing locals and searching for the creature.
The news of a wild man nearby caused widespread panic in Winsted. Residents suddenly recalled sightings of a massive, tusked figure with Neanderthal-like arms hiding in the woods. Armed search parties scoured the wilderness but found only a donkey.
Eventually, Stone admitted to fabricating the story, but instead of ruining his career, the wild man tale turned him into a celebrity. Known as the “Winsted Liar,” he began publishing weekly articles, each more outrageous than the last. One story featured a chicken that laid red, white, and blue eggs on Independence Day. Another recounted a frog that drank a jug of applejack and sang “Sweet Adeline.” He even wrote about a cow locked in an ice house that produced ice cream for two weeks.
His tales gained immense popularity, with newspapers nationwide regularly featuring his work. His stories brought fame to Winsted, and the townspeople were so grateful that they put up a billboard thanking Stone for putting their town on the map. When the “Winsted Liar” passed away in 1933, the community honored him by naming a bridge after him. Fittingly, the bridge spanned Sucker Creek.
5. The Man Who Corresponded With a Serial Killer
Sheila LaBarre, originally from Alabama, relocated to Epping, New Hampshire, in the late 1980s. She quickly became known for eccentric behavior, such as answering the door nude for deliverymen. Suspicion grew when her elderly husband passed away in 2000, with rumors suggesting LaBarre had poisoned the retired doctor.
After her husband’s death, LaBarre began living with a series of younger men, including Kenneth Countie, a young man with autism. In 2006, Countie’s mother asked Epping police to check on him after losing contact. Upon arriving at LaBarre’s ranch, officers discovered Countie’s remains smoldering in a burn barrel.
Alongside Countie’s remains, police found evidence of another victim, Michael DeLoge, as well as several unidentified toes. After a weeklong search, LaBarre was arrested for murder. Around this time, TV reporter Kevin Flynn began writing letters to her.
Flynn aimed to gain LaBarre’s trust for a book interview. He sent her a sympathetic letter around Christmas, and she responded. Their correspondence grew into a regular exchange, with LaBarre adding intricate drawings to her envelopes and even composing a poem for Flynn. While Flynn denies any romantic involvement, he admits he may have encouraged her affectionate tone.
Their relationship soured when LaBarre’s letters started arriving at Flynn’s workplace. His coworkers opened and mocked them, embarrassing Flynn. To make matters worse, Flynn attempted to justify his actions by writing to a prosecutor, promising to share any crucial details he learned with the district attorney.
Due to this mistake, Flynn could now be summoned as a witness, which directly conflicted with his role as a journalist. He was dismissed from his job and, around the same time, went through a divorce. Flynn doesn’t attribute the end of his marriage to his correspondence with LaBarre. Instead, he believes his dissatisfaction with life led him to start writing to a serial killer.
Regardless of his motivations, Kevin did publish his book. As for LaBarre, she is now serving two life sentences. Their letter-writing relationship has since ended.
4. The Author Who Foresaw the Atomic Bomb
In 1943, during the height of World War II, Cleve Cartmill, a 36-year-old writer from California who had been affected by polio, conceived a story idea. After working various jobs, he turned to writing for a living. His new concept revolved around a super bomb, a devastating weapon capable of annihilating countless lives.
When Cartmill pitched his idea to John Campbell, editor of Astounding Science Fiction, he learned his concept wasn’t entirely unique. Campbell, who often read scientific journals, was aware of breakthroughs in atomic fission. He even speculated that scientists might soon create a bomb powerful enough to “erase an island or a chunk of a continent from the Earth.”
Campbell proposed setting the story on another planet. Taking the advice, Cartmill wrote “Deadline,” a tale where a “Seilla” agent tries to prevent a “Sixa” bomb from obliterating his alien world. (Reading “Seilla” and “Sixa” backward reveals Cartmill’s lack of creativity in naming.) Throughout the process, Cartmill frequently consulted Campbell, who provided insights into the mechanics and effects of an atomic bomb.
Published in March 1944, “Deadline” was poorly received, ranking as the least favorite among six stories in that issue. However, it drew the attention of the US War Department. Agents scrutinizing Astounding Science Fiction were alarmed by its accurate descriptions of the highly classified atomic bomb’s workings.
Fearing a leak, federal agents investigated Cartmill and Campbell. Despite Campbell’s explanation that he deduced the details independently, authorities remained doubtful. They placed both under surveillance, probed Cartmill’s acquaintances (including Robert A. Heinlein and Isaac Asimov), and even enlisted his mail carrier as an informant. Eventually, the War Department concluded “Deadline” was a remarkable coincidence but requested Campbell avoid publishing further stories on atomic weapons.
3. The Author Who Puzzled Intelligence Agencies
Gerard de Villiers was a literary icon in France. From 1965 to 2013, he captivated audiences with his Son Altesse Serenissime series, featuring the charismatic spy Malko Linge. An Austrian nobleman working with the CIA, Malko resides in a castle, is multilingual, and dons custom alpaca suits. His escapades make James Bond seem tame in comparison.
De Villiers released 200 novels before passing away at 83, producing four to five books annually. Known for their fast-paced action and explicit scenes, the SAS series sold over 100 million copies during his lifetime.
De Villiers wasn’t favored by French literary elites, but his novels earned immense respect from an unexpected audience: intelligence operatives. Spies and CIA agents avidly read his works, even suggesting analysts study these gripping tales. Prominent figures like Hubert Vedrine and Nicolas Sarkozy were also fans. The appeal lay in the fact that reading a Malko Linge novel felt like glimpsing tomorrow’s headlines today.
In 2012, de Villiers released a novel centered on Libyan terrorist cells, particularly in Benghazi. The book included classified details about the CIA’s Benghazi base. Six months later, terrorists attacked the CIA annex in Benghazi, mirroring events from his story.
This wasn’t his first accurate prediction or revelation. In 1980, one of his novels foresaw Anwar Sadat’s assassination. Another accurately described key Syrian officials and predicted an attack on a government building. A third novel outlined a Syrian-backed plot to assassinate a Lebanese official, even naming the real-life assassins—information previously known only to intelligence agencies.
How did de Villiers access such classified details? His life resembled a spy thriller. In the 1950s, as a reporter in Tunisia, he was nearly killed after being unwittingly used in an assassination plot by a French agent. This brush with espionage left a lasting impact.
De Villiers eventually turned to fiction, enriching his stories with real-world intrigue through his vast network of spies, diplomats, and political figures. He mingled with African warlords, Russian agents, and global leaders, interviewed terrorists, befriended bomb specialists, and spoke with soldiers worldwide. Even Malko Linge’s character was inspired by three real individuals: a French spy, a German baron, and an Austrian arms dealer.
In return for insider knowledge, de Villiers crafted fictional characters inspired by his real-life contacts. He exchanged cameo appearances for classified information. Like anyone else, spies enjoyed seeing themselves depicted in stories.
2. The Writer Under Constant Armed Protection
Roberto Saviano is a renowned author whose debut work has been translated into 51 countries and adapted into an acclaimed film. However, if asked about his career, Saviano would express disdain for the book that brought him fame.
Saviano was raised in Naples, a city plagued by gang violence and Mafia bombings. He witnessed innocent lives lost and saw how the mob infiltrated every sector, from waste management to food production and fuel distribution.
Driven by anger, Saviano spent five years investigating the Camorra Mafia. He worked for a construction firm controlled by mobsters, monitored police radios to visit crime scenes, and even served at a Mafia wedding. In 2006, he released Gomorrah, a scathing exposé on the Camorra.
Initially, gangsters took pride in Saviano’s book and distributed copies as gifts. They reveled in the attention until the book gained global traction. With over 100,000 copies sold, their operations were exposed worldwide, leaving them furious.
Saviano began receiving death threats, including a photo of himself in his mother’s mailbox labeled “Condemned.” During a high-profile trial, a defense lawyer blamed Saviano for the arrests. An informant warned that Saviano’s life was in grave danger, and in many ways, it was.
Overnight, Saviano was assigned bodyguards. Traveling required two armored vehicles, and Naples became too perilous for him to stay. He moved constantly, staying in hotels or police barracks. For the past eight years, he has lived under round-the-clock protection, with every moment of his day meticulously planned. Even abroad, he is forbidden from walking outside alone.
If given the chance to turn back time, Saviano insists he wouldn’t have written Gomorrah. “I achieved a writer’s dream—an international bestseller,” he reflected. “But it has poisoned my life.”
1. The Terrifying Victorian Travel Guide Author
Favell Lee Mortimer led a troubled life. Born in London in 1802, she was raised as a Quaker but fell for a young Evangelical. Though she converted, her parents forbade the marriage. Her lover then abandoned her, married another, and cut off all contact with Mortimer.
Heartbroken, she wed an abusive reverend, a man so cruel that she often sought refuge at her brother’s home. Her misery was so profound that her doctor remarked she was the only person he knew who wished for death. Instead of channeling her pain into art, she chose to frighten children across England.
Favell Lee Mortimer authored 16 books, beginning with The Peep of the Day. Aimed at four-year-olds, this Bible primer resembles Roald Dahl’s style but is arguably the most horrifying book for toddlers. In one section, she details the gruesome ways a child could die:
“How kind of God it was to give you a body! I hope your body will not get hurt . . . Will your bones break? Yes, they would, if you were to fall down from a high place, or if a cart were to go over them . . . If it were to fall into the fire, it would be burned up. If a great knife were run through your body, the blood would come out . . . If you were not to eat some food for a few days, your little body would be very sick, your breath would stop, and you would grow cold, and you would soon be dead.” Her three travel guides—The Countries of Europe Described, Far Off: Asia and Australia Described, and Far Off: Africa and America Described—are even more alarming. Intended to introduce Victorian children to the world, they paint a horrifying picture: Hungarian swineherds kill with pigs, Sweden teems with bandits, and Swiss snow can crush your home.
But that’s not all. Mortimer claimed Icelanders were disgustingly dirty, Italians were “ignorant and wicked” Catholics who often stabbed each other, and the Portuguese were the clumsiest in Europe. Asia fared no better: Burmese people “lie constantly,” and in China, “dead babies litter the streets.”
When writing these guides, Mortimer had only left England once, visiting France and Belgium as a teen. Given her grim portrayal of the world, it’s no surprise she preferred staying home.
