Summer 2025. My phone flashes with an email, the subject line: “your book”. All in lowercase – typed in a hurry, perhaps. It’s from an Unbound/Boundless editor who I barely know.

I click open. 

“i am sorry to say that boundless has ceased trading and gone into liquidation”, the message read, followed by another: “i am sorry but it will not be possible to refund the supporters”.

A great white shark can explode into top speed with five swipes of its tail – and just like that, in two little sentences, my book Everyone Everywhere was cancelled. Hundreds of people had generously supported it. Now their money was gone.

Hundreds of other writers and thousands of their readers faced the same awful situation. Suppliers, too, were caught up in the mess of Unbound’s collapse.

In what was such a challenging time for the staff at Unbound as well, it’s tough not to think that its leadership could have handled the company’s demise with more care and respect for this galaxy of people who made their business possible.

From an author’s point of view, Unbound dumped an awful responsibility on our shoulders last summer. It was left up to us to tell each reader what had happened – that their money had been lost entirely. Some writers received verbal abuse for sharing the news, accused of conning people.

It was an ignominious ending for what once seemed like a positive, democratising force. Because, for all of its many major issues, Unbound also did a lot of good in its time.

Almost a year on from its demise, I wanted to reflect, because what happened seems to have slipped from memory too quickly.

I’ve seen first-hand how risk-averse commissioning has crippled the television industry. Under-pressure commissioners are funding derivative ideas because they feel like safe bets.

Careers are built on chances. Cast your mind back across your own and I’m sure there’s a figure who gave you a shot, who strapped rocket boosters to your work.

Unbound was willing to publish fresh voices and different ideas. And before the cynics out there say it – no, this wasn’t why it went under.

In my day job as a documentary producer, I’ve seen first-hand how risk-averse commissioning has crippled the television industry. Under-pressure commissioners are funding derivative ideas because they feel like safe bets. “Old wine, new bottle,” as one commissioner said to me recently.

Then, because this is what commissioners were seen to be buying, the rest of the industry follows suit by pitching similarly tired concepts in a desperate hope to “win business”. The doom loop goes around and around from there. It’s terrible for British culture and it leaves little chance for newer perspectives to break in.

I don’t want to minimise the considerable financial pain Unbound caused so many people, but this is why the loss of such a publisher is so concerning, in my view. Whether it’s in television or publishing, we need more decision-makers who are willing to champion the next generation of writers; to back their ideas. I’m only in my 30s, but as I look back, many of the opportunities I benefited from barely exist anymore. We need bolder leadership at the top of our industries to combat this.

Fortunately, there is a sort-of happy story regarding Unbound. For some of its former authors, the great Will Atkinson of Wilton Square Books stepped in and saved their books, including mine. Those at Wilton Square have gone out of their way to try to compensate for the damage and loss many faced.

I only hope that their taking a chance is rewarded.

Everyone Everywhere: 21 Stories of Mixed Race Britain by Lucas Fothergill is being published by Wilton Square Books on June 4th.