I don’t normally do hit pieces, and this won’t be a hit piece per se. But I made an expensive mistake, and I hope I can keep others from making that same mistake.

Two years ago, I accomplished one of my lifelong dreams. I wrote a book. It happened pretty fast. I have a file on my computer with a list of book ideas, and if I’m honest, I never thought of the book I ended up writing until I was complaining one day, and my wife told me I should deal with it myself. I wanted to give our church a Christmas devotional, but I couldn’t find one that exactly fit what I was looking for. My wife suggested in her less-than-subtle way that I should quit carping and write it already. I woke up early-early every morning for about eight weeks, and then I had it. I figured it was an easy start to whatever writing career might lie in my future, so I put a ton of work into editing, snookered my daughter into designing a cover, and then started shopping around for a way to publish the book.

I suppose that the world of self-publishing isn’t much different from other parts of American life and culture. We have as many options available to us as we have pop tart flavors at Wal-Mart. Most of the flavor options are pretty bad; a couple are tolerable, and if you are patient enough, one might be just to your liking.

Not knowing how to know which self-publisher would be the one I would love, I went with a recommendation and settled on Xulon Press, a subsidiary of Salem Media Group. The sales guy I talked to was very responsive and accommodating. I told him my book was a Christmas devotional, which would mean a very narrow sales window for marketing the book. It was early August when I began to discuss the book with him. I wanted to know, is it reasonable to think that I could have the book published by November? He made me a deal that, at the time, I thought I couldn’t refuse. He threw in a “rush package” for free that would have cost me a few hundred more dollars and assured me that the book would be ready in time for me to sell it.

As I said, I don’t intend to write a hit piece. Xulon was terrific to work with towards a finished product. I had a completed manuscript before I called them, so as soon as I signed their contract, I submitted my manuscript and went to work editing my book. They reviewed the manuscript, wrote me a glowing email about the quality of the manuscript (not surprising since they wanted my business), and sent me a sample of what I could get if I paid for editing. I declined that, as it was quite expensive and I had plenty of help with editing.

About this time, it dawned on me that I put all this work into writing a book, and Xulon Press was about to make all the money on it. I calculated how many books I would need to sell to pay for the publishing. Xulon is not cheap. You can see their pricing here. Even if I made $10 per book, I would need to sell more than 250 books just to pay for their printing service. As it turned out, the idea of profiting $10 per book is a pipe dream with some really bad dope. At the time, I didn’t realize how expensive the actual printing of each book is when you use Xulon. They charge about triple what other self-publishers charge. So, in reality, I might have made a couple of bucks per book in royalties.

I wrote it for my wife and kids, and I wanted to give it as a gift to my church. I also offered it for sale, hoping to recoup my investment, but I didn’t expect to make money. I also didn’t want to put myself deep in the hole to publish a book. But alas, I did.

The process of presenting and preparing the manuscript was pretty straightforward and seamless. I finished the editing and submitted the final manuscript within about two weeks of signing the contract. Then, I was ready to go to press. Xulon did the layout, emailed me the proof, and sent me a change form with clear instructions – all very professional. I reviewed the book with a fine-toothed comb, completed the change form, and returned it to them in a few days. They sent me the book for final review. I sent them my final approval by the end of October and then waited for the news that the book was published.

And that is where my troubles began. I learned that I had no control over the price of the book. Being familiar with church bookstores, I knew that the books needed to be priced around $10. Xulon set the price at $15. I ordered 251 books so I could offer a discount to church bookstores – for an additional cost to myself of about $2,000. So now, I was out $5,000. But I was optimistic that I could recoup some of that when I received the books.

For two weeks after I emailed my final approval, I heard nothing. Around the second week of November, I started calling my representative at Xulon, searching for an update. I called and left messages on my representative’s voicemail. I emailed. I called again and was sent straight to voicemail. I emailed again. This went on for days with no response other than an automated email promising a response within 24 hours. I had hoped to have books on hand by Thanksgiving so I could mail them to churches. Thanksgiving came and went with no response from my representative. The Monday after Thanksgiving, I began my phone and email regimen once again and once again received nothing more than an automated email promising a response.

Finally, I called Xulon’s main number. Previously, I had called it repeatedly and been connected to my representative’s voicemail. This time, I explained in measured tones that I had talked to the voicemail enough that we were now well acquainted, and I needed to speak to a person – preferably my rep. Lo and behold, the receptionist connected me immediately to my representative – this not more than ten minutes after I had had another calm chat with that same rep’s voicemail. No doubt she was on another call, just like the voicemail said.

When I finally connected with my rep, I was informed that the book hadn’t gone to press yet because they were awaiting my final approval. I bashfully pointed out that I HAD LEFT A HALF DOZEN MESSAGES AND EMAILS, ALL OF WHICH EXPRESSLY STATED MY FINAL APPROVAL. No, I didn’t shout – it just sounded like my outdoor voice because of that tightness and tension in my throat.

My rep put me on hold for a minute, came back apologetically, and told me she had put a rush on the delivery of my books. She believed she could have them to me by December 5. I pointed out that my book was a December devotional and that if I received the book order on December 5, I couldn’t possibly get the books to customers before mid-December, too late for them to enjoy.

So, I announced through social media that I could not make the book available this year. I had to cancel orders from church bookstores that would have sold most of the books I bought and paid for, and I was faced with the reality that I would get to sit on these books for a year before I could begin to recoup my “investment.”

The books arrived by December 5, and Xulon did a beautiful job producing the book. I have no complaints about that whatsoever. I was able to give them to our church – which was my goal all along, and I did end up selling a few along the way. I don’t want anyone to think that it was 100% bad.

Xulon Press has an annual renewal fee on top of the nearly $3,000 you spend on the initial contract. I must have missed this in the early presentation of their services. I was made aware of this annual renewal sometime after production was in process.

Because of Xulon’s unforced error, I thought it would be reasonable on their part to waive my annual renewal. That way, I could have another year to use their services – did I mention that I paid an exorbitant fee for those services? Apparently, the notion of waiving a fee has never entered Xulon’s mind – not even when their customer service was terrible. My representative was very apologetic about this particular inflexibility on the part of his company – which comforts my heart in some small, insignificant way. But, he told me that for $120, he would sell me back my book’s final manuscript and cover design so I could move it to another self-publishing firm.

How very magnanimous of them.

Meanwhile, a friend who has published nearly fifty books started asking me about my self-publishing experience. He asked me what I paid for the services and what Xulon did for all that money. I told him what they did – layout, production, Facebook fan page (woohoo!), delivery to Kindle, Nook, and various e-readers. When it was my turn, I asked him who he used for a publisher. He told me “Kindle Direct Publishing” through Amazon. I asked him what they charged him. He said, and I quote, “Nothing.”

“Nothing, as in zero?” I asked, with that incredulous look on my unprepossessing face.

“Zero!” he answered, with a grin that looked suspiciously like a gotcha grin.

“Do they do the layout for you?” I asked, still dubious.

“Yep!” he responded, barely able to conceal his smug self-satisfaction.

“They put it on Kindle for you?” I asked.

The sarcasm practically leaped from his throat and smacked me in the face, “Well, it is Amazon, so yeah!”

By this time, I was curled up in the fetal position, sucking my thumb and looking for a blankey.

I have now moved my book to Amazon’s Kindle Direct Publishing. It didn’t cost me a dime. They tell me they can print my book for $2.70 per copy – a third of Xulon’s price. I still own the copyright.

No doubt this is some grand conspiracy on Amazon’s part, their bald-faced attempt to own all the intellectual property in the world. Someday, I’ll probably find my book in a smoke-filled back room where the Illuminati plot the death and destruction of the whole world. And when I do, I will renounce my money-saving ways. But for now, I have to say, my heart aches for all the money I sent swirling around the toilet and down the drain.

Since I can recover none of that money – well, none except the pittance I am receiving from book sales – I thought I should write this little screed to further benefit my fellow man.

Oh, by the way, I received a royalty check from Xulon – just south of $300 – in September, if I remember correctly. Nice of them to send it. Of course, they sat on it for nearly nine months before they sent it. This is undoubtedly due to the red tape and bureaucratic necessities of being a vast and vital publisher of other people’s thoughts. When I ended my contract with them, they informed me that I had just shy of $20 in royalties that they owed me. They didn’t pay me then, of course. That money has to run through the washing machine and hang on the clothesline until sufficiently dried – which takes time in Florida. When they finally get around to sending it to me, they’ll hire some very tired ponies who will trudge the 2,300 miles from Maitland, Florida, to Ogden. They promised me that I would see that money in about six months. I asked the power company if I could delay payment until the check arrived. They didn’t sound hopeful. And the moral of the story is, if you get the grand idea to write a book and self-publish it, don’t call Xulon. In fact, unless you are worried that Amazon might rule the world and steal your thoughts to finance their evil regime, don’t pay anyone to self-publish your book. Or, if it would make you feel better to have a little skin in the game, send me $5,000. I’ll publish your book for you – on Kindle Direct Publishing – and hold your royalties until I’m good and ready to send it. I’ll be happy to charge you extra for printed copies too. That way, you can feel like a true artist, like I do.