distributioncontent policyeroticaself-publishing

Accepted Here, Refused Over There

Your distributor saying yes isn't the same as a store saying yes. Here's why adult fiction disappears downstream, and why nobody tells you when it happens.

By Maliven


The email says your book is live. You check your dashboard and there it is, distributed, status green, everything correct. Two weeks later you notice the sales report has a lot of zeroes in it, and not the ordinary kind. You go looking, and your book is on three of the stores it was supposed to be on. The other four don't have it.

Nobody emailed you about the other four.

This is one of the most disorienting things that happens to adult fiction authors, and it's disorienting mostly because the mechanic is invisible unless someone explains it. So here it is.

Two different yeses

A distributor is not a store. A distributor is a company that takes your file and metadata and pushes them to stores, who then decide independently whether to carry the book.

When your distributor accepts your book, they're saying it meets their standards and they'll transmit it. That's a real yes and it means something. It is not a promise that anybody downstream will take it, because they don't control that and never claimed to.

Each retailer then applies its own content policy. Those policies differ wildly, they change without announcement, and they are enforced by a mix of automated classifiers and human review that neither you nor your distributor can see into. A book that sails onto one store gets silently dropped by the next.

For general fiction this almost never comes up. For adult fiction it comes up constantly, because adult fiction is exactly where the retailer policies diverge most and shift most often.

Why nobody tells you

Partly it's volume. A large store processing enormous quantities of incoming titles isn't going to write a personal explanation for each rejection, and the feed it sends back to distributors is usually a status code rather than a reason.

Partly it's deliberate. Stores generally don't publish the specific boundaries of their content policies, because a published boundary is a boundary people optimize against. The vagueness is doing work for them.

And partly it's the shape of the relationship. Your contract is with your distributor. The store never agreed to anything with you, has no obligation to you, and doesn't know your name. There's nowhere for a notification to come from.

The result is that the author, who is the only person in the chain with any stake in the outcome, is the last to know and the only one who can't ask.

The part that stings

It isn't the rejection. Everybody who writes in this space has made peace with rejection.

It's that the work already happened. You wrote it, edited it, commissioned or made a cover, wrote the blurb, set up the metadata, uploaded, waited, and got told yes. Then the yes turned out to be provisional in a way nobody mentioned, and the thing that made it provisional is a policy you can't read, applied by a company you can't contact, for reasons you'll never receive.

And there's no appeal, because an appeal requires a counterparty. You can ask your distributor to look into it, and good ones will, but what they can tell you is usually just a confirmation that the store declined. They're on the wrong side of the same wall.

Why it can't really be fixed upstream

It's tempting to be angry at the distributor here, and it's mostly misplaced.

A distributor's entire product is access to retailers. If a retailer says a category is out, the distributor's options are to comply or to lose the relationship, and losing the relationship harms every author on the platform, not just the ones writing in that category. So they comply, and they tighten their own guidelines preemptively to avoid the friction, which is why distributor policies tend to drift toward the strictest retailer in their network over time.

That's a rational response to their position. It also means that any platform whose business depends on retailer relationships will always have someone above it who can overrule your book after the fact, no matter how much they'd prefer not to.

The constraint isn't the company's attitude. It's the org chart.

What we do instead

Maliven has no retailer above it. We're the store.

When your book goes up here, that's the decision. There's no partner who reviews it afterward, no feed that comes back with a status code, and nobody who can decline it two weeks later. There is no second yes, because there's nobody else whose yes we need.

That also means our policy is the whole policy, and you can read it. It's one page. The short version is that we don't police fiction. We don't have a review queue, nobody reads your book before it goes live, and enforcement is about conduct rather than content. The only hard rule is about images: no sexual imagery of minors. Since this post is about policies you can't read, here is ours in the open, all three outcomes of it.

If a cover shows an adult, it stays up. That includes adults who are small, slight, petite, or young-looking. A reader deciding a character looks young is not the standard.

If a cover is genuinely ambiguous, the image comes down and nothing happens to you. No strike, no warning, no note on your account. Swap the art and carry on.

If a cover depicts a child, the account closes and the material is reported.

Those are the only three outcomes, and none of them touch the text. What you write is not subject to review, which is the whole point.

We can operate this way because we're not distributing anywhere. There's nothing to lose by carrying work that other stores won't, which is precisely why we exist.

The honest tradeoff: one storefront reaches fewer readers than seven do. If your work sails through everywhere, wide distribution is worth more to you than we are, and you should keep doing it. This is for the writing that doesn't.

If it's happening to you

Check your books on each store manually rather than trusting the dashboard. Distribution status and store availability are different fields and the first one doesn't tell you about the second.

Then find out which stores dropped it, because the pattern tells you something. If it's the same store every time, that's a content policy you can learn to work with or around. If it's shifting, the policy is shifting, and that's worth knowing before you build the next year's plan on it.

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