Hello,
It’s been some time, hasn’t it? The Kickstarter for Memory. failed, and I vanished from the internet to live in shame and squalor. This gave me plenty of time to reflect on just what went wrong. Why did the Kickstarter fail? Because I am (and always have been) bad at starting small. Several tiers of rewards, a limited edition cover, a bundle, stickers, a pamphlet, stretch goals—what exactly was I thinking? I couldn’t tell you.
It also failed because I had no safety net for my personal life, and emergency expenses cost me the funds needed to follow through. It also failed because I was inexperienced and childish and thought sheer determination was enough to see it through. Shockingly, it wasn’t. So, here we are on the other side, and I still feel shame. Even as I write this, the anxious turning of my stomach is almost insurmountable.
What Would I Do Differently?
Well, as I said earlier, start small. I’d heard several wise crowdfunding sages tell me this (either directly or indirectly), but I “knew better” and “would show them how it’s done”. Start with two tiers: digital, and physical. No stretch goals, no stickers, no pamphlet adventure tie-ins. Just the book and the PDF. If I ever, EVER dip my toes into crowdfunding again, this will be the way.
I would also wait until I had an established brand that was worth advertising. 5 supplements does not an RPG publisher make. I needed name recognition and consistent sales more than I realized, and it bit me quite hard in the rear both during and after the crowdfund.
What Would I Do the Same?
The team. The worst part about this failure is that the blame layed squarely with me. The editor was talented, attentive, and thorough. The artist was—and still is—one of my favorites in the industry. I squandered their talents and burnt those bridges maybe forever. If anyone is reading this, do not blame them. They knew nothing, they were “ghosted” like everyone else. It hurt, I probably lost friends over it, and it almost certainly killed any hope that I had at networking within the industry. What kind of a person kills a Kickstarter without telling their partners? Me, apparently.
What’s Next?
I’ll probably make a return, eventually. Crab Dominion is dead, the projects are over and I have little interest in trying to revive them even if I did have the funds. I may, at some point, come back to writing supplements for TTRPGs. For now, I’m content playing games with friends and supporting the local RPG community in my city. The last thing I want to do is rebrand and start over in secret, hoping no one realizes it’s me. I won’t do that. I’m much more interested in being a cautionary tale against crowdfunding before you’re ready, going too big and too bold and watching it all crash down.
The Message
Do I have time to tell a story? Who cares, it feels good to get this out. After I sent the final “I suck, and I’m sorry” message to backers, I got a message from someone at a publishing company. It was like divine intervention, “We’ll take the campaign over, you give us all your stock and the license to all your works-in-progress, and we’ll take it from here,” they said. Perfect, I thought. A chance to save face, get the people their rewards, and move on from all of this with a clean slate. I was interested, and asked for details. “You give us everything you’re working on, and mail us any printed books you have in stock, and we’ll take over the campaign for you.” Obviously too good to be true, there had to be a catch.
There was. Memory. It was “not ready to be published, and would have to be significantly changed before it would ever see print.” Strange, I thought. I paid someone quite a chunk of change to make sure it was ready to be published. Now, I could’ve—maybe should’ve—said yes to this. I could be holding my head up high knowing that it was out of my hands what happened next. The problem, dear reader, was that I trusted the editor. If I were going to give up literally everything I had in order to do this, it wouldn’t be for some other writer to come in and change, butcher, or fix what was there. If I were going to give up everything, I’d rather keep my artistic integrity and let people hate me.
Almost Done, I Promise
If we were friends before all of this, and you’re wondering what I’m up to, send me an email. I’d love to hear from you. If you’re a disgruntled customer, I’m sorry I failed you and please feel free to send me an equally disgruntled email.
Goodbye for now,
JD, the artist formerly known as Crab
Good write up. As a Memory backer, I hope you are doing better now all things considered, and it was good to read this.
can't keep a good crab down, regardless of what they're going by currently. Fantastic to see you write again, even if it's simply an apology. Whatever you make or do next, I want to see it.