Lucia's story


I started writing my first novel in August 2000, while convalescing from a bout of illness. Previously, I'd only written poetry and short prose. After writing, re-writing and revising my manuscript, I submitted it to a couple of publishers and one agent, and received my first rejection letters. At that time, I was unaware of any writers’ forums, and instead I joined a local writers’ group. There, one author recommended that I try PublishBritannica which, according to the company website, is based in Milton Keynes, UK. He said he'd heard good reports about it from a friend. He died a few months later – at least he never found out what terrible advice he'd given me!

So I submitted my book to PublishBritannica in February 2004, and was ecstatic when their email arrived a few weeks later saying "We have decided to give [your book] the chance it deserves."

My contract has PublishBritannica's address at the top. It makes me laugh now, but one day I calculated how long it would take to drive to Milton Keynes – the town in the address – because I actually thought I would meet my editor in person. However, it appears that PublishBritannica does not have an office in the UK. I could not find a phone number for it, and the address given seems to be the office of Lighting Source, a printer. All business is carried out from PublishBritannica's parent company, PublishAmerica, which is headquartered in Maryland, USA.

Being a total novice in the publishing field, I trusted the PublishBritannica website. However, the image it portrayed of the company was misleading, to say the least. On its website, PublishBritannica claimed to be a traditional publisher, that its books were available through the major bookstores, that it was 'picky' in accepting works for publication, that it was not a vanity press, and that it would do some marketing, although it expected authors to do much of the promotional work.

After signing my contract, I think the first thing that gave me a bad feeling was PublishAmerica’s request for a list of friends and relatives. Why did my publisher need to market my book to the people I knew? Maybe I had a presentiment that this was the only marketing my publisher would ever do. But I had invested too much in my book – I wasn't ready to believe I'd been scammed.

The next moment of doubt was the editing. It was thoroughly impersonal. My manuscript was 60,600 words in length. The edited version contained about 60 minor changes. Of these, 20 were new errors, mainly due to confusion between American and British spelling. Most of the other corrections involved punctuation and the placing of inverted commas. I have had far more thorough edits from my friends and relatives! But by then, I was a member of the PublishAmerica forum, taking part in the communal excitement about being published, and ready to praise my publisher for anything it did.

Then, when I received my two free author copies in September 2004, I was so excited I ran all the way from the post office to my local bookshop. I asked if we could organise a book signing, and if I could place my book with them. They didn't even open it to read the first page, or to see what it was about. They just glanced at the cover and said: "We don't stock this kind of book". I didn't understand what they meant, since I didn't know much about POD books. I had no idea that bookshop owners can recognise a Lightning Source POD book by its cover. And many vanity publishers use Lighting Source...

Anyway, I did not let that experience deter me. I studied how to write a press release, and sent one to PRWeb. I built this website. I sent emails to everybody I knew. I paid for a couple of online advertisements. I bought PublishAmerica's book titled “The Published Author's Guide to Promotion”, read it from cover to cover, and wrote down a marketing schedule for myself, which involved asking my local library to do a reading, contacting the local paper, trying my local bookshop again (if I had an article in the paper, they could no longer refuse me!), then visiting all the neighbouring libraries. In the meantime, I would take a copy of my book to all the major bookshops in London, send it to reviewers and newspapers, etc. etc. To do all this, I needed lots of copies, so I ordered 100, and it cost me over $1,000 (with the 50% one-off author discount, which is a special offer lasting for a few weeks before the book is released).

Then I had my first real shock. Somebody posted a message in my guestbook telling me that PublishAmerica was a scam, and directing me to the Never-Ending PublishAmerica thread in the Absolute Write forum. I sobbed for days, and couldn't sleep at night... in the end, I went into denial. I did not want to believe I'd made such a terrible mistake. So I posted something on a writers' forum asking people to please not say so many horrible things about PublishAmerica because it would just hurt us, the authors. And I complained bitterly about the evil person who had sullied my guestbook.

I proceeded with my promotional plan. I took my book to the local library. They told me it would have to go to their head office for approval, and then I heard no more from them (two months later, I discovered that they won't stock vanity publications on their shelves). In the meantime, I proceeded with plan B - and visited the major bookshops in Central London. That's where I finally had to face the truth - about the vanity publishing, the outrageously high retail price and PublishAmerica's bad reputation.

My book is only 192 pages, and is priced at £12.50. In checking various bookshops, I could not find a single fantasy book of comparable length with a price anywhere near it. They were more likely to be priced around £4 or £5. So there I was, trying on my own to market an overpriced book from the sort of publisher that bookshops treat warily. What chance did I have?

In May 2005, I asked PublishAmerica to please terminate my contract, which gives them the exclusive right to print my book for seven years. I’d bought 100 copies, all my friends and relatives had bought it, and I was unwilling to promote it any further. But they refused to let me go. I continued to send polite requests to be released, and received unsatisfactory and occasionally rude replies. I even offered to buy my rights back. Finally, in March 2006, I gave up. I decided I might as well wait the seven years, write another book in the meantime, and do what I could to warn other prospective writers about PublishAmerica.

Then, in December 2006, out of the blue I received a letter from PublishAmerica terminating my contract. It was a wonderful Christmas present! I decided to do a thorough re-write of Wizardess Born, combine it with the unpublished sequel, and try to find a publisher for the new book under a new title. Unfortunately, Wizardess Born is still advertised on Amazon and on a number of online bookshops. Is Publish America still selling it illegally?

Copyright © 2005 Lucia Bibolini