If you’re in the self-publishing space, you’ve probably come across Draft2Digital at some point.
For a long time, it felt like one of the better options out there, especially if you didn’t want to rely entirely on Amazon.
And to be clear, this isn’t a post about Draft2Digital being a “bad” platform.
It’s about why I left.
Because for me, it wasn’t really about the fee they introduced—it was about how it was handled, and what that revealed about who the platform is actually for.
It Wasn’t the Fee
Recently, Draft2Digital introduced a requirement where authors who weren’t earning a certain amount would need to pay to remain on the platform.
And honestly? I don’t even fundamentally disagree with that. A small fee to have your books formatted and distributed to a whole host of stores and libraries is a great deal. Platforms cost money to run. Distribution costs money. If a company wants to prioritise active, earning authors, that’s a business decision.
The issue wasn’t the existence of the fee.
It was the way it was introduced.
From what I experienced, it wasn’t a case of “you now have a year to reach this threshold.” It was more like: if you haven’t already reached it this year, you’re now on the clock to be charged in less than two months.
That’s a very different thing.
A lot of self-published authors—myself included—don’t constantly push every book all the time. Sometimes things sit in the background. Sometimes life takes priority. Sometimes you’re working on something new.
If I’d known this change was coming, I might have chosen to focus on those books, promote them, and try to meet that threshold.
But that opportunity wasn’t really there. I understand the argument that platforms should prioritise active, selling authors. But if the expectation is a yearly threshold, then the opportunity to meet it should also be a year—not a retroactive assessment of what you’ve already done. It doesn’t feel like a fair expectation or warning.
And that’s what didn’t sit right with me.
It Felt Like an Instant Filter
The way it was rolled out made it feel less like “we’re introducing a new structure” and more like “we’re narrowing who we want on the platform—NOW.” Which, again, is a valid business move.
But it changes the relationship.
It shifts the platform from something that supports a wide range of creators to something that prioritises those already performing. And if you’re not in that group, you start to feel like you’re being phased out rather than supported.
Because the threshold is based on earnings after Draft2Digital takes their percentage, smaller authors can end up in a position where the platform has already earned from their work and they’re still required to pay the maintenance fee on top. So smaller creators will essentially end up paying twice even if you do sell books.
It also feels like another door quietly closing—this time around what counts as ‘successful.’ Something self-publishers try to avoid in the world of traditional book publishing.
If you’re a smaller creator, you can still be selling your work, still be building something, but if you’re not hitting that specific threshold, you’re suddenly in a different category. And in that category, the cost of staying on the platform goes up.
So even if your work is generating something, it’s not considered enough. And that’s where it starts to feel less like support for creators and more like a system built around a very specific definition of success.
Not a Storage Issue
When I reached out, I was encouraged to stay, but with the suggestion that I remove my books.
Which raised a question for me. A lot of people were blaming AI for this sudden decision, which we will come back too later. One of the reasons given was that AI is driving up the cost and amount of storage available, so they are trying to cut back on accounts.
If this was purely about storage or the cost of hosting content, then surely inactive accounts would be just as much of a concern. But they were happy for me to remain on the platform… just not to have books actively distributed.
So from a user perspective, it didn’t feel like a storage issue. It felt like they wanted us to sit there, taking up space as accounts but only put books out when I would be making money for the platform.
It felt more like a cost or revenue issue tied specifically to distribution. If you don’t make enough money to automatically cover their fees, they want you to manually pay it.
I can’t say for certain what’s happening behind the scenes, but the way this was handled—combined with that response—made it feel less like a technical limitation and more like a shift toward cost-cutting… with haste.
Whether that’s financial pressure or simply a change in business direction, I don’t know.
But as a user, it could read as the former.
The Bigger Problem: Where Do Authors Go?
Part of why this hits harder is because of the wider landscape.
When Draft2Digital acquired Smashwords in 2022, it made complete sense from a business perspective. But it also quietly reduced the number of alternatives available to indie authors—especially those trying to avoid relying entirely on Amazon.
And that’s where the frustration builds.
Because a lot of people are already trying to move away from Amazon for their own reasons—fees, quality control, general distrust of the platform. Other options exist, of course. I’ve personally used Lulu, but my experience there wasn’t smooth. Distribution took longer for the same stores that D2D approved in hours, and support didn’t feel as responsive as I’d hoped. It personally made me want to hit my laptop with a hammer.
Draft2Digital was the first platform that actually felt like it worked.
So when something changes there, it’s not just an inconvenience. It creates that feeling of “okay… so what now?”
The AI Conversation (And Why It’s Not That Simple)
Okay, let’s go back to talk about AI—how it’s increasing the number of books being uploaded, how it’s affecting platform costs, how it’s changing the entire publishing landscape.
And I do think that plays a role.
There are more books than ever. Some of them are low-effort, some are mass-produced, and platforms now have to manage that scale. So it makes sense that companies start tightening things. But the impact of that doesn’t just hit the low-effort content.
It hits smaller, quieter creators too, the ones who might not be constantly pushing, but are still producing genuine work. I am personally not on the front lines waving an anti-AI flag (I personally don’t think AI is the root of the problem, it is how it is used by the humans controlling it) and I know there are some people who see no harm at all in using it. But no matter which angle you look at it, the production of AI written work is negatively affecting small creators in this space when people use it to mass-produce AI literature.
And on a smaller note, people using AI and passing it off as their own work has also managed to get us to a point where even using proper grammar can get you side-eyed. You can pry my Oxford commas and em dashes from my cold, dead hands. Until then, I’ll keep using them, whether that raises eyebrows or not.
If it was good enough for Jane Austen, it’s good enough for me. If it was good enough for the Brontë sisters, I’m keeping it.
Why I Walked Away Completely
For me, this was the point where I stepped back and really thought about what I was doing. I realised I was spending more time thinking about platform requirements, distribution rules and what would “work”, than I was just… writing.
And that’s not why I started. I don’t want to constantly adjust my work to fit a system. I don’t want to feel like I need to prove my value to stay visible. I just want to write what I care about and share it.
So I made a decision that probably won’t be right for everyone. Especially those actively attempting to sell their work.
I took the decision to start taking my existing work off platforms and am going to put them on my own site—for free. No hoops. No thresholds. No trying to fit into someone else’s structure. Just my work, where I want it, available to whoever wants to read it.
Final Thoughts
I’m not saying Draft2Digital is a bad platform.
For a lot of authors—especially those actively selling and promoting—it probably still works really well. But it no longer works for me. And more importantly, the way these changes were handled made it clear that I’m on the filter list.
One final thing that stuck with me and that I will include was the way my account closure was handled.
When I first emailed after the fee announcement, the response I received was lengthy and full of warmth—kind words, reassurance, encouragement to stay and offers to help in any way I needed. It all felt very supportive on the surface.
But when I followed up and asked for my account to be closed, the tone shifted completely. The reply I received simply confirmed it had been done—no “hello”, no sign-off, no ‘kind regards’, nothing beyond the bare minimum.
And maybe that’s just process. Maybe it’s just how those requests are handled. But the contrast between the two responses didn’t go unnoticed.
If anything, it made me feel more certain in my decision. Not out of spite—but because it quietly confirmed that I was no longer the kind of user they were interested in keeping.
So, with all of that being said, if you would like to support me by reading anything I have written, I have uploaded my work to a free library. You can also sign up to my newsletter to know when anything new goes live, or you can hang around and read another article!
I appreciate you.
