The Scariest button in publishing (probably)
- Gill

- Mar 17
- 2 min read
Writers are brave people.
We face blank pages, deadlines, plot holes, and the occasional existential crisis about commas.
But nothing, absolutely nothing prepared me for the terror of the button Vellum asked me to press this week: “Remove Licence.”
If you’ve ever used Vellum, you’ll know it’s the elegant workhorse behind many indie books. It formats beautifully, behaves itself, and generally asks very little of you.
Until you need to change the email address on your licence.
Then suddenly you’re plunged into a process that feels like defusing a bomb with oven gloves on.
🌿 What actually happened
I contacted Vellum to update the email associated with my licence.
They sent me to their “Restore Licence” instructions.
Simple enough, I thought.
Except the first step was: Remove Licence.
Now, if you’re an indie writer, you’ll understand the immediate spike in blood pressure. “Remove licence” might give you, because it sounds like:
• “Goodbye to all your books,”
• “Hope you backed up,” or
• “We’re about to wipe your creative life clean.”
In reality, it means nothing of the sort.
It simply logs you out so you can log back in with the updated details.
But Vellum, bless them, do not explain this.
They just present the button like a cliff edge and say, “Off you go.”
🌼 Why I’m telling you this
Because if you ever need to update your Vellum email, or restore your licence on a new machine, I want you to know:
Your files are safe.
Your projects are safe.
Your sanity… well, that depends on how much coffee you’ve had.
The “Remove Licence” step does not touch your manuscripts.
Your files live on your computer, not inside the licence.
All you’re doing is refreshing the little digital handshake between Vellum and your email address.
🌟 The bigger point
As writers, we often feel we should be fearless about tech because we use it every day. But the truth is: creative tools carry emotional weight. They hold our stories, our hours, our hopes and we are vulnerable.
So when a piece of software uses language that sounds like “delete your life’s work,” or seems to imply that you are chucking away access to a great piece of software, it’s perfectly normal to freeze. You’re not being dramatic, you’re being human. A human writer.
If you take anything from this, let it be this:
• Back up your work (always).
• Don’t be afraid to ask questions.
• And if a button looks terrifying, it’s probably just badly worded.
I survived the Vellum Licence Ordeal of 2026, and so will you.
And if Vellum ever rewrites that button, or provides a tool tip [are tool tips even a thing nowadays?] to say something like: “Temporarily remove licence so you can restore it — your files are safe,”
…I’ll personally send them a thank‑you card.


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