What I Learned from Kickstarting my Debut Novel (Part One)
The highs, the lows, the faith in humanity restored
How this Began …
Just over a year ago after finishing a frantic Camp NaNoWriMo, I had a couple of days free and found myself in my local Starbucks in Norwich. I’d just written fifty thousand words of an urban sci fi novel called Blood and Starstone following the adventures of an alien priestess recently moved to post-Contact London.
I was tired but I was still — as we writers say ‘in the zone’ — and I wasn’t done. Writing is a muscle, the more you use it, the easier writing becomes. I write every day because if I don’t it gets harder and as a result I’ve written more this year alone than I ever have before. I don’t go to movies, I watch shedloads of box sets, I seldom play games and I drink much more coffee than my reflexologist recommends.
But I write.
As an aspie, I usually have five or six projects on the go, juggled like glass balls. The trick for me is not the writing but the completion side of things. I can only survive the intense focused needed for NaNo if I have several projects so that when I burn out on one, there’s another one waiting to take it’s place. It makes me much more productive.
The entire through that particular Camp NaNo, a second idea had been lingering. The series is about a Kashinai priestess named Shai who finds herself working as a cultural advisor in London. That was awesome but I needed to know more about their theology but also how they came to transmute into their current social state, as a species who live in extended communities and who have little concerpt of personal privacy.
I needed to know why.
I started writing a short story called “Darkness and Light” which was set at the point in history where a cataclysm befell the Kashinai people. The Changing of the Sun — a solar storm — was my why and through the eyes of a blind seer, her exiled lover, a healer, a group of nomadic travellers and a woman indwelt by the Goddess of Death, I started to explore the hows, the whys and the words began to flow.
Suddenly I was at 40k and it was officially a novel. A short novel but a novel nevertheless so I pressed on, knowing it needed to be around 115k to be classed properly.
By this point I realised I was going to have a trilogy on my hands so I retitled the first book The Changing of the Sun, added as second: The Water Children and pulled the book that was initially a prequel to Shai’s series, into the final volume: The Calling.
Then I started thinking … how was I going to get this thing published?
Of course I knew there were two routes: traditional and indie. I’ve been interested in independant publishing since Hugh Howey became the Patron Saint of Ballsy Authors and I like the idea of control which came with indie-ing it. Yes there are costs but my inner perfectionist loves control and hates rejection.
I experimented with publishing e-books made in Scrivener and it’s easy, they can also be made beautiful and the current climate means there are always editors and designers looking for work.
Do you know why indie authors like Hugh, Jason, Michael and co all use the same people for covers/editing and illustration? It’s because these people are good and I can’t wait for the day when I can invest in the same people, not because they’re expensive — a relative term if ever there was one — but because they’re worth every penny.
But back to the money. The unfortunate part of my situation is I’m disabled, I don’t have a job (I prefer retired to unemployable) and money doesn’t grow on trees so how was I going to finance the damn thing?
I came across Kickstarter a couple of years ago, while it was still US-only and I backed a couple of projects, ones which interested me or just had some item that I wanted to add to my life. But as I watched how it was changing lives, I realised it was probably the most effective way for me to get the two things I neeeded to succeed: an audience and money.
I did have a really good angle though and it shames me a little to use it. I had this:
Normally playing the disabled angle makes me uncomfortable but I’m the kind of writer I am simply because I’m blind, Aspergic and mentally broken. Blind and disabled characters are a running theme in my books, from people losing their vision to being disfigured … in sci fi disability is seldom seen because the future is perfect.
Rubbish.
There will always be disabled people and half of us wouldn’t want to be cured even if we could be and so it’s only fair that I reflect that in my fiction.
Anyway, back to my moral quandry. Playing this angle for money was so far out of my comfort zone that I spent days agonising on the depths I had fallen too. My mother refused to look at the campaign, calling it begging, and her opinion didn’t soften when I explained it was more like donations but people get something back.
Not a single member of my family donated or even looked at the campaign. My mother, whose support and approval I’ve been trying to get for three decades — still doesn’t know I’ve funded.
Fortunately my friends — my real family — they were awesome and it’s down to them and the rest of my 60 backers that I write this today.
I’m convinced that a lot of the reasons that I funded was that I was also open and truthful from the start. I explained why I needed the money (because my income is fixed and it would have taken me six months to save the cash myself), I also asked for precisely how much I needed to do the minimum. I had goals to aim for should the minimum be surpassed and I explained from the get go why I wanted funding for an e-book and not a print run as well:
E-books are easy to produce and I want to make a beautiful one. I also know that print-on-demand would add extra to my minimum funding requirements and, frankly, I would rather sort the covers and get the manuscript edited (the important bits) and reach my initial goal of £1250 than have put it to £2000 and have found myself without any money at all.
Print books will come and I really do hope I get to £2000. If that happens everyone who pledged £15 will get surveyed asking if they want a free copy of the print book (I’ll sign it or you can give it to a friend, spread the word around etc).
In hindsight, I think, I did the right thing but I will still offer print runs in future campaigns. That’s the thing about Kickstarter, everyone makes mistakes and everyone learns.
Going Live
The Kickstarter campaign went live on 21st January 2014. I did a mortifying video, I used my e-book mock ups and the maps previously commissioned for each book to prove the concept, I announced that I had cover designer Jason Gurley on-board and I offered a forty page sample formated as a ‘real book’.
That’s the thing I have this eye for perfection, for knowing what’s missing and my background in marketing an journalism really came through. I know a good Kickstarter from a shitty one. I looked at those I’d backed, at similar ones which had failed, at those which were just stupidly unrealistic and even one by my new friend Michael Bunker that never quite made it.
I also read wildy on the subject of Kickstarting novels: Bradley Beaulieu did a two-part series, Tobias Brucknell rebooted his life and Matt Forbeck had lots of shiny Aspie-friendly stats that even my math-hating brain could understand.
Once my project went live, I developed an understandable obsession with my backer’s dashboard. I also started hammering Twitter and Facebook. The first two days were what convinced me I had a short at this but the ride was not meteoric. As people reminded me — thank you people! — it was a marathon and not a sprint.
I am on most social networks, I live my life on-line but even I felt uncomfortable spamming people every hour. Even worse, I started getting emails and messages from companies asking for money in exchange for marketing. I’d been pre-warned about this, people who see a good thing always want to be part of it, especially if there’s a windfall involved. I snorted at most of them simply because they were offering services I already had sorted. Journalism teaches you many transferable skills, including how to do a press release and pitch your story just so — and I’m free.
My issue was much more personal. I was asking my friends to share and pledge and we’re in the last days of a recession. I had marked tiers but the best donations came from my closest friends, the ones who might only be able to spare a quid or two. The surprising thing was the generosity of random strangers … the first time I had a £100 pledge from a stranger in London I nearly fainted.
Despite my awesome pitch and my saying the book is done — there’s done and then there’s publishable, which are totally different things — is that I can’t prove it. I say I’m a journalist and I was, you can Google me, but it’s so easy to say anyrhing on the net these days, proof is an entirely other level.
I was asking for faith.
The best way to get this was to be open and honest so I updated at least once a day. I wrote about writing, about how the project was going, how it was making me feel. I wrote about my highs, about my writing environment, I offered pictures of the college project inspired by the novel. I posted exclusive extracts for my backers. I engaged them, I answered questions and interacted, I emotionally blackmailed with pictures of my cats/guide dog doing cute things.
This one in particular always makes me smile:
Okay, that might have been cheeky.
Half way though I decided more motivation was needed and inspiration had struck so I wrote 21k of a 30k novella in seven days. Said novella, “The Whispers in the Desert” became the ‘come on let’s get to 50% bonus reward’ as well as offering me a way to get out some backstory out of my head. It’s not my best work but it’s something extra, a gift for those people who backed me. It’s also dark and scary and should probably come as a trigger warning. Next time, though, I may need to think about offering extra e-books well in advance.
My self-esteem has never been great and the idea that people might be willing to take a chance on me was baffling. Ironically it was the smaller pledges which added up, most people just wanted an e-book and that was perfectly fine. Offering it on Kickstarter meant an instant pre-order system coupled with the kudos that comes backing a project when it funds. I also got a little extra cash in order to cover the higher rewards and off-set the Amazon/Kickstarter fees.
The surprising thing for me, upon seeing the stats was how important Facebook was in all this. After direct links — eg me posting the campaign link online — Facebook had the highest number of pledges, joined with Twitter. I had assumed this would be less simply because of how Facebook’s marketing and throttling system works (want more people to see it, buy likes etc).
The End of the Beginning
By the end I cried. Of my 63 backers, 61 paid, one dropped and one backer cancelled their pledge. That’s not bad at all. Jason has been booked, I’m looking into print formating based on a recomendation by Michael and will know where I stand later this week. I also have some illustrating I want to get done for the print edition and am hoping I can squeeze any extra cash as far as possible.
Then we’re back to the usual adage of just write. I have a book to finish.
So knowing what I know now, would I have done anything different? Yes I would, I wouldn’t have learned much otherwise.
I would have offered a print run from the off.
Now I’ve competed my first Kickstarter and know it’s possible, I would offer a print run.
I would have given more thought to the rewards and pricing.
£15 isn’t much in the UK but it’s almost $30US which is stupidly high. I forgot that while America isn’t the centre of the known universe (sorry guys!) that doersn’t mean a lot of my pledges wouldn’t come from there. Also I would have like to be more creative with the tiers and the offerings but while keeping expenses down. I still think it was the right about but I should have paid more attention to the exchange rate.
I would have chilled out more.
Seriously stress and I don’t mix. I would have listened to the people who knew more than I did, the ones who told me it would be okay. I could have planned certain things better instead of them having serendipidously fallen into place.
I should have booked Jason earlier.
This was my mistake, he’s busy, but waiting until a couple of days before my project funded was idiotic. I just didn’t want to waste his time if the project came to naught. Note to self: book him earlier next time. Booking can always be moved but never brought forward!
I learned who is important in life.
Friends don’t just mean ‘those people who give you money’. They’re the ones who engaged, who asked me about the process, who are now thinking about doing it themselves.
It’s Sophie who brought me Processo to celebrate the Sunday night I surpassed my target.
It’s Penny who hugged me when I was convinced it was all going down the toilet.
It was Michael who never had a doubt. Mentors are awesome.
It’s my betas who managed to find a way of telling me how much work needed doing on “Whispers” whichout using the words ‘pile of Uni droppings’.
It’s me, for realising that I can still give the universe the finger for decrying that I can’t do something. I’d forgotten about that.
In conclusion:
I want to do this again. The crowd-funding format is perfect for something like publishing and I’m currently looking into Patreon — which does something similar to Kickstarter but on a more permenant basis.
Of course, before I can even think about doing this again, I need to get Changing edited, the covers done, the print run put in place on CreateSpace and get it out there by the Summer.
After all if even half of my sixty friends read it and tell their friends … that’s my new career started.
Is this a career? I don’t know. I don’t write for money, I never have but money is a part of life and I like to be fed, as do my Menagerie. I’m never going to be the next Hugh Howey or EL James but as long as I can write and bring beautiful things into the world, I’m good and, as far as I’m concerned, this is the way to do it.
