Diary of a crowdfund junkie

A direct message from the middle of a crowdfunding campaign

The stupidest thing you can do during a crowdfunding campaign is to click "refresh" every few seconds to see if the numbers are going up... yet this is exactly what I am doing.

Hi, I'm Margreet and I'm an addict.

A crowdfund addict.

My crowdfunding for the third album of Mijntje (I'm posting her adventures on Substack as Minnie) is the sixth one I'm doing. I have also worked behind the scenes for at least as many campaigns by others. I should be used to this by now: the vast no man's land, the weeks in the middle of a campaign when nothing seems to move and success seems impossible.

I know it will be okay.

But will it?

Experienced crowdfunders call it the bath tub model: when you make a graph of the money coming in against the time of the campaign, there's a peak at the beginning and one at the end - a sort of a tub form. Whatever you do to promote your crowdfunding during those middle weeks, seems to have little to no effect.

I know how this works, and still I can't fully fight off a feeling of desperation: am I doing this right? Are my comics good enough? Where did I ever get the notion that crowdfunding is fun...?

To soothe myself I read the comments of some of the backers:

"I'm a big fan!"

"I love your creativity!"

"Margreet is great!"

But these comments are already old - at least a few days. Surely these people are disappointed in me by now, seeing how I suck at this campaign. Which will be my last. Ever. Why would I ever want to put myself through this again?!

On the socials things aren't much better. My last promo comic resulted in a handful of thumbs up, but no new backers.

My promo comic for the socials

I see there's a Facebook storm raging, a "discussion" in which so-called comic lovers are stating they are "tired of crowdfunds" and crowdfunders are stealing income from comic stores - shame on those egocentric comic artists who insist on wanting to make money with their work!

I don't know how many comic stores went bankrupt because of my crowdfundings. I usually attract between hundred and hundred-fifty backers who could have bought their album in a comic store, I guess. That would be about, er, 150 x 10 euros (the retail price of the album) = 1500 euros; then take 40% of that (the margin for comic stores) = 600 euros; divided by the fifty or so comic stores in Holland and Belgium = 12 euros per comic store.

I feel deeply ashamed of myself.

But hey, when this campaign fails, and it most probably will, there won't be a comic album at all and that means no income, for no one, not for comic stores, not for publishers, not for me.

Ever.

For I'm done with crowdfunding.

Refresh.

Refresh.

Refresh.

The trick is to stay positive. I write an upbeat update for my backers. That's what it's about after all: to provide people who like my work with a fun experience (the campaign) and a good product (the album). I make sure they get a nice little extra too. With Mijntje's first album it was a booklet of really cool fan art that spontaneously originated during the campaign. That was awesome. Can I recreate something like that? Won't people get tired of me when I keep asking them to engage with me? Is it okay to rely on my colleagues in this way?

When in doubt, leave it out. So I just continue this slow, torturous waiting game.

My publisher calls me for a peptalk:

"I will mention your crowdfunding again in my newsletter. And in the podcast Gek Op Boeken. And in the BammerdeBam Happy Hour of course, if they'll still have me!"

I don't know how I would do this without my publisher. Not only is it great to have someone to spar with during a campaign - if the crowdfunding succeeds (a really big IF, it seems right now) he will take on all the work of printing, packing, sending and promoting the book. I "just" have to sign the promised albums and make all of the extras (last time there were forty-two small commissions to fulfil!) - all in all at least a week's work, I keep underestimating how much time this costs.

No wonder: why would I reckon with this when it looks like this crowdfunding is never ever going to meet its goal?

Refresh.

Hey, a new backer!

One! For fifteen euros! Hosanna!

It isn't much, but at least it gives me the feeling that there is someone out there eager to see my work.

"I always enjoy Minnie's adventures. I'm a fan!"

What a world of difference a comment can make! A fan! This is not a casual passer-by who buys my comic for the first time to give it a try, but someone who "always enjoys" my work! I am retroactively filled with a warm feeling of worthiness.

I click to Facebook again. What's happening over there?! My promotional comic has been banned by the Facebook gods due to "encouraging sexual activities"!

What the F?!

I immediately pour my indignation into an eloquent post. What kind of world are we living in, where innocuous inked nakidity is branded as pure porn? Thumbs are raised, comments are flowing in and look - two, no three new backers! Four!

"Margreets beautiful work should not be obstructed by adult censorship!"

I am glowing. I am growing. I feel seen.

My comic means something in the world!

Slowly but surely my campaign passes 50%. Maybe we can still make it!

I get a mail from Voordekunst, the Dutch platform where I've done all my crowdfundings so far. It's a personal message from my campaign manager, Stefan:

"Good news! We have submitted an application for you at the Cultuurfonds Noord-Holland and they want to contribute 750 euros! Congratulations!"

I am reeling.

When I was starting out in comics I spent hours filling in grant applications - to no avail, so finally I gave up. I forgot that Voordekunst has direct ties with grant providers and automatically applies for campaigns like mine. I didn't have to lift a finger!

Suddenly things start moving again: a family member donates a big amount; someone unfamiliar with Mijntje orders all three albums at once; a die hard fan sends a little extra to bolster me... And then we're at 71%. With two more weeks to go I slowly let myself feel hope again.

My publisher calls to congratulate me. And tells me about his own crowdfunding plans for the next StripGlossy.

I react enthusiastically. "You could do such and such for the promotional video! And how about this and that for rewards? I could do some drawings again, like last time. Can I do the updates, too?"

My current campaign has not ended yet and I'm already sucked into the next. But it just feels sooo good! Awful and wonderful at the same time.

And hey: as far as addictions go, at least this one brings in some money!