For the fourteenth year, Wambtac Communications LLC (WCLLC) will offer the only direct path to a becoming a professional book ghostwriter starting January 2025. According to WCLLC founder Claudia Suzanne, over 100 writers, editors, journalists, and freelance ghostwriters have transformed their passion for writing into lucrative solopreneur enterprises through the Ghostwriting Professional Designation Program since 2013.

“GPDP provides the only comprehensive book-ghostwriter training in the world,” she said in a private interview. “It’s the only course that teaches what you need to know about the job in order to land a high-end gig.” She continued, “You won’t learn how to do charts and maps, BISAC spreads, creative analysis for books, Manuscript Blueprints and Analysis & Recommendations sales-funnel tools anywhere else.”

Graduates of the program agree. Cynthia Y claims, “Thanks to the rigorous and comprehensive training you gave me, I entered the ghostwriting profession at an elite level with a respected credential and confidence in my skills.”

Author, novelist, writing coach, and ghostwriter Joshua Lisec said: “I’ve already incorporated Manuscript Charts, Nonfiction Templates, and Musical Line Editing into my process with current clients, to name a few. The GPDP isn’t like any course or program I’ve taken before. From week one, Claudia and Co. emphasized utility over theory. In other words, the distance from learning to earning is happily short… I’m blown away by the abundant publishing industry knowledge the GPDP offers.”

A masterclass, the 14-month curriculum offers exclusive concepts, techniques, insights, skill sets, mindset transitions, and “ghostwriting psych” practices steeped in business and literary ethics, professional realism, and personal growth. “The curriculum was exquisite in its thoroughness and professionalism. The teachers’ knowledge of the book industry was superb,” attests Gail Harris,  of Golden Ghostwriting.

“I hadn’t realized how much I didn’t yet know about how to take someone’s manuscript and turn it into a marketable literary property while still pleasing the client,” writes Chris Norton of Divergent Authorship. “I was struggling as a freelancer, and [GPDP] showed me how to provide pro-level services in a lucrative niche—not to mention giving me book industry knowledge that I’ll also use when I publish my own books.” I’m proud to be part of the teaching staff for GPDP. I enjoy equipping aspiring ghostwriters with not only the technical skills needed to produce high-quality work, but also the business acumen and insider knowledge they must have to thrive as professional editorial-service providers. As our graduates attest, GPDP offers far more than theory—it provides actionable, real-world tools and strategies so they can launch lucrative, high-end ghostwriting careers with confidence and credibility. For anyone serious about becoming a top-tier ghostwriter, the GPDP remains the gold-standard choice for comprehensive, expert-led training.

Jamie Oliver’s children’s book Billy and the Epic Escape has finally been pulled from shelves, after sparking outrage for its portrayal of Indigenous Australians, a misstep that highlights a persistent blind spot in the publishing industry. But this isn’t merely about a celebrity getting called out—it’s a case study in how deeply flawed the system still is when it comes to handling cultural representation. It’s not just about hurt feelings, either; it’s about careless storytelling that perpetuates harmful stereotypes, erases histories, and ultimately causes real damage.

The National Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Education Corporation (NATSIEC) condemned Oliver’s book as “damaging and disrespectful,” with chief executive Sharon Davis highlighting how it trivializes the lived experiences of First Nations people. According to Davis, the book, “Ignores the violent oppression of First Nations people, raising serious concerns about the cultural safety of First Nations readers—especially young people.” And it’s not hard to see why. The story includes a subplot where Indigenous characters are manipulated by a villain offering money in exchange for a child, feeding into colonial tropes that paint Indigenous communities as easily corruptible and careless with their children.

But let’s talk about why this controversy is even more baffling: Jamie Oliver, of all people, should know better! He’s no stranger to cultural backlash. Remember his “Punchy Jerk Rice” fiasco? And here’s the kicker: Oliver even employs cultural advisors to prevent exactly this kind of disaster. Yet somehow, Billy and the Epic Escape sailed through the entire publishing process without any input from the communities it supposedly represents.

This isn’t just a simple oversight—it’s negligent. Oliver specifically requested a cultural review, yet no one at any point made sure it actually happened. Not Oliver himself, not his advisors, not Penguin Random House UK. And even more absurdly, PRH UK didn’t bother to loop in PRH Australia, which could have easily facilitated a consultation. We’re not talking about an intensive process—this could have been handled with a single email to someone with cultural expertise. In light of these facts, his apology feels shallow. You can’t simply say, “Oops, we missed it.” The entire process—from concept to publication—includes countless checkpoints. The fact that not a single person flagged the lack of review is telling.

For those of us working in the book industry, this incident is a glaring reminder: you can’t afford to skip steps when writing about cultures outside your own. It’s not just about avoiding backlash—it’s about ethical storytelling. Dr. Anita Heiss, a Wiradyuri author, emphasized that Indigenous voices need to be involved from acquisitions through marketing. As she aptly put it: “There is no space in Australian publishing (or elsewhere) for our stories to be told through a colonial lens.”

Cheryl Leavy, a Kooma and Nguri author, highlighted a crucial industry standard that’s too often overlooked: if you’re going to explore sensitive subject matter, you need to bring in those who live that reality. “It’s fair to expect that authors adhere to some basic industry standards,” Leavy pointed out, and she’s absolutely right. If Oliver, with all his resources, failed this spectacularly, it raises serious concerns about smaller projects that have fewer resources and even less oversight.

For ghostwriters, editors, and authors who care about getting it right, let’s take this as a wake-up call. Don’t treat sensitivity reads as an afterthought. Cultural consultation isn’t just a checkbox to tick off—it’s a foundational part of responsible storytelling. Because if someone as high-profile as Jamie Oliver can fail this badly despite having entire departments at his disposal, we all need to do better.

Ultimately, this story isn’t just about avoiding public backlash or protecting reputations. It’s about acknowledging the power of stories and respecting the people whose lives and cultures you’re choosing to represent. If the industry continues to treat cultural sensitivity as an optional add-on rather than an integral part of the publishing process, we’ll keep seeing books like Billy and the Epic Escape crash and burn. Let’s not wait for another headline to figure it out.

It’s always a punch to the gut when a publisher goes under, but the news of TouchPoint Press shutting down hits especially hard. As someone who’s been in and around the world of indie publishing for years, I’ve seen the highs and lows of what it means to put your trust—and your work—in someone else’s hands. Sheri Williams, the publisher and a former literary agent, poured her heart into this company, but even the best intentions don’t always pay the bills or make up for the real-life pressures that come with running a business.

TouchPoint Press wasn’t just any independent press. For years, it was a stepping stone for new voices, a beacon for writers looking for a shot in a crowded industry. But behind the scenes, things were unraveling. According to a letter from Williams shared by Writer Beware, TouchPoint Press faced mounting pressure from all sides: authors demanding communication and payment, the Arkansas Attorney General’s Office stepping in, and the Authors Guild pushing for action. And let’s not forget the authors themselves, who’ve been complaining since 2015 about missed payments, broken promises, and the slow crumbling of what was supposed to be their launchpad.

Williams’ struggles weren’t just business-related. Last November, she was hospitalized for mental health reasons, and while she tried to keep the press afloat, even her determination couldn’t overcome the legal and financial mess. She’s filed a claim with her business insurance to pay back royalties, but there’s no word yet on whether it will come through. If it doesn’t, Williams plans to set aside a percentage of her future income to make things right—though it’s clear she won’t be the one managing it. The Authors Guild is stepping in to help create a plan, but it’s little consolation to the writers who’ve been left in the lurch.

In the meantime, rights are being reverted, books are being pulled down, and the website has gone dark. For many authors, this means starting from scratch: finding new homes for their books, salvaging their cover and interior files, and picking up the pieces of what should have been a dream come true. It’s heartbreaking. Williams herself says, “I wish so badly that TouchPoint didn’t end this way… I feel like I am abandoning you. I’m so sorry!” And you can feel the weight of that apology, the kind that only comes from someone who truly wanted to make things work but just couldn’t.

The thing is… small presses are the lifeblood of the literary world. They take risks on new talent, publish works that bigger houses won’t touch, and keep the industry fresh and diverse. But they’re also fragile, often run on shoestring budgets and fueled by pure passion. When things go wrong, they can go really wrong, leaving authors—who have already poured their time, money, and trust into the process—with little to show for it. And it’s not just about the money (though that’s a huge part); it’s about feeling seen, heard, and valued as an artist. It’s about believing that someone has your back.

TouchPoint’s collapse is a reminder of how precarious the indie publishing world can be. It’s a cautionary tale for authors to do their homework, stay vigilant, and protect their rights. But it’s also a moment to reflect on how much pressure we put on small publishers and the people behind them. Williams’ story is one of burnout, broken systems, and, ultimately, a heartbreaking goodbye. It’s a stark reminder that in this world of words, the human cost of failure can be all too real.

For the authors left stranded, my heart goes out to you. Keep pushing forward. Reclaim your rights, find new paths, and keep telling your stories. The end of TouchPoint doesn’t have to be the end of your journey. And for the rest of us, let’s not forget that behind every book, every press, every “Closed for business” sign, there’s a human being who tried their best, even when their best wasn’t enough.

Banned Books Week has been around my entire life, and at almost 43 years old, I can’t imagine where I’d be without some of the books I read during my own coming-of-age. The Perks of Being a Wallflower by Stephen Chbosky helped me understand that I would never be happy if I stayed in a situation where I couldn’t be myself. A Brave New World by Aldous Huxley (required reading in my sophomore honors English class, by the way) taught me the dangers of forced conformity and what happens when humanity is distilled into banality.

Book bans are about more than just removing books from shelves; they’re about cutting off access to stories that help us see the world—and sometimes ourselves—differently. The American Library Association (ALA) and PEN America show just how much this is still happening. In the first eight months of 2024, the ALA tracked 414 attempts to ban 1,128 different books. That’s down from last year, but it’s still way up compared to a few years ago—and these numbers probably don’t capture the whole picture. We’re also seeing “soft censorship,” where books are quietly hidden, left out of displays, or just never ordered in the first place because someone’s afraid of backlash.

PEN America’s numbers paint an even more alarming picture: over 10,000 books banned during the 2023-2024 school year, more than triple the amount from the year before. A lot of these bans are happening in states like Florida and Iowa, where new laws are cracking down on what books students can read. And with even more restrictive laws on the horizon in places like Utah, South Carolina, and Tennessee, this isn’t going away anytime soon.

This hits students the hardest. When we ban books, we’re taking away their chance to see a new perspective or find comfort in a character who’s just like them. Stories about race, gender, mental health, or just growing up are getting pulled from shelves because they make some people uncomfortable. But that’s exactly why they’re needed. Kids need to see that their struggles aren’t unique or shameful—and that they aren’t alone.

Author Sandra Cisneros put it perfectly: “Books are good medicine. And if this one isn’t your prescription, you just put it back on the shelf for someone who needs it. That’s why we have libraries, with so many prescriptions, so you take what you need.” Libraries should be places where everyone finds something that speaks to them, without someone else deciding it’s “too much” for them to handle.

Looking at the list of the 100 most challenged books between 2019 and 2024, I’m shocked by the lessons people are willing to deny others just because they don’t fit the status quo. The Color Purple? I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings? Ender’s Game? A Clockwork Orange and 1984? Monster? A Child Called It? Anne Frank: The Diary of a Young Girl? The Giver? Beloved? Huckleberry Finn? And sure, I don’t find much personal value in 50 Shades of Grey—but that makes me wonder, why aren’t we seeing calls to ban the movies based on these books, too? Are words on a page somehow more dangerous than images on a screen?

As we gear up for Banned Books Week, it’s a good time to remember that this fight isn’t just about keeping books on shelves—it’s about protecting our right to read, think, and discover for ourselves.

Want to get involved? Check out your local library’s events, support your teachers and librarians who are on the front lines, or just pick up a banned book and see for yourself what the fuss is about. Talk to your friends, write to your local reps, or donate to groups like the ALA or PEN America that are fighting these battles every day.