The house begins from a borrowed desk in a shared studio. Three books in the first year — a poetry pamphlet, a children's picture book, and a small-press memoir — all of them paid for in instalments, all of them still in print.
A small publishing house, built for writers.
We started ebookwriting.ai in 2015 with three books and a borrowed desk. Eleven years later we have published 214 — most of them by authors who had never imagined they could. The house has stayed small on purpose: twenty-five services, six imprints, fewer titles a year than any of our peers.
Most publishing services were built to publish themselves — their brand, their methodology, their three-step funnel. We started this house the other way round. The author goes on the cover. The royalties go to the author. The decisions, in the end, go to the author. We are the editors, illustrators and producers in the background, and we are happy there.
We work with authors of children's books, fiction, memoir and the kind of business book that exists to open doors for its author. We use modern tools, including AI for research, drafting and production — and we keep an experienced human pair of hands on every page that leaves us.
The people who write to us are usually one of four: a first-time picture-book author with a story their child asked for; a founder writing the authority book that should have existed five years ago; an indie novelist on book two or three, tired of being a marketing department of one; and the ghostwriting clients we do not name in public. Staying small lets us do four things our larger peers cannot — assign a named editor to every project, quote a fixed fee in two paragraphs and a number, hold the list to under fifty titles a year, and answer correspondence in our own voice rather than through a ticket queue.
Eleven years, quietly.
A short account of how the house grew, told the way we tell most things here — in dates and short paragraphs.
A first author from outside the country — a Nigerian short-story writer working in English — signs the house's fiftieth title. The studio takes on its first remote editor; the borrowed desk is finally returned.
An illustration studio is added, with two staff illustrators and a small bench of freelancers. Picture books overtake adult fiction as the most-commissioned imprint, a position they have held since.
The hundredth title goes on sale. A Sunday paper carries a short write-up — a publishing house that publishes books, not itself, the headline read — and the studio is asked to slow down rather than grow.
After a year of internal trials, the studio formally adopts AI-assisted research and drafting — with a named human editor on every page that leaves the house. The .ai is added to the name as a disclosure, not a flag.
The list is reorganised into six imprints — writing, formatting, cover design, illustration, copywriting and the small Editions list for hardback specials. Twenty-five services in total, each with a named lead.
Two hundred and fourteen titles on the shelves; four autumn slots open as of writing. The plan, as ever, is to publish fewer books than we are asked to — and to put each of them in the right hands.
The house, in figures.
Five imprints, one house.
Each imprint is led by a named editor or art director. Cross-imprint commissions are the norm — a single project will usually pass through three of these rooms.
What we use, what we keep human, what we refuse.
Two short statements. The .ai in our name deserves an explanation, and the things we will not do deserve to be said aloud.
How we use AI.
Disclosure- Research & analysis. Comparable-title scans, market sizing, voice-sample studies, sensitivity-reader prep. AI accelerates the homework so editors can spend their time on the manuscript.
- Structural drafting. First-pass outlines, chapter scaffolds, alternate paragraph drafts. A named human writer then rewrites, cuts and shapes every line that ships.
- Production validation. Every EPUB and KDP file is auto-checked against thirty-plus rejection criteria before submission. Zero KDP rejections across forty-seven titles in 2025.
- Translation drafts. AI translates; a native-language editor reviews. We will not ship machine-only translations.
- Your data, not training data. Your manuscript is never used to train third-party models. Drafts run on enterprise-tier APIs with retention disabled.
- Authorship. The book is written by humans, with AI as a tool. Your name goes on the cover. AI does not.
What we won't do.
Selectivity- Books we don't believe in. We turn down roughly twice as many manuscripts as we publish. It is the most useful service we offer our authors.
- Election-year political memoirs. Too much heat, not enough light, for the kind of slow editing we do.
- Pure AI-generated books. If there is no human writer in the loop, there is no book worth our colophon.
- Volume publishing. We will not run a content farm or pump out KDP filler. A studio that publishes ten thousand books a year is not a studio.
- Pay-to-play reviews. No fake reviews, ever — for our authors or for ourselves.
- Ghostwritten work without a contract. Authorship and IP terms are in writing before a single line is drafted, with no exceptions.
A rhythm, not a funnel.
Five steps, the same on every project — whether it is a 600-word picture book or a 90,000-word memoir. Each stage closes in writing before the next begins.
The reading.
A 30-minute conversation about the book, the reader, and the constraint of the calendar — followed by a written, fixed-fee proposal inside 48 hours.
The shape.
Outline, voice sheet and a one-page contract — signed off before the first sentence is drafted, the first sketch is started, or the first file is set.
The making.
Drafting, illustration or design happens in the rooms it belongs in. You see the work at each milestone and mark it up freely, inside the quoted scope.
The production.
Typesetting, EPUB and KDP validation, cover proofing and the small unglamorous checks that decide whether a book is rejected at upload or accepted on the first pass.
The handover.
Files in your name, copyright assigned on final payment, KDP account configured for you to keep, and a launch dossier with the first month of work mapped out.
From the desks of our authors.
A handful of correspondents who let us name them. Most of our ghostwriting clients, by contract, we do not.
Where we are listed.
Programmes, marketplaces and press the house is a member of, written-up by, or distributed through — the small certifications that come with eleven years of patient work.
listed press
Begin a book.
A 15-minute call about the book you are writing — then a written, fixed-fee proposal in your inbox inside 48 hours. No follow-up sales call.