Yesterday, I posted an entry talking to you all about my Kickstarter project. The measure of it is that I'm working on a novel called I'm On Fire, and though I have a publisher for it, I'm getting no advance. Instead, I'm getting the old Doubleday deal: splitting the profits down the middle with my publisher. This is the same deal I have in place for the book of poetry (Surf's Up) and the short story collection (This Terrestrial Hell) that should be coming soon. It's not a bad deal for a first-time fiction writer, even on ebook (my nonfiction for the publisher has a built-in audience, as all my books have been about Stephen King), but it means that real life crops up while I'm trying to write. Four jobs have a way of quartering your time and attention, especially when most of those jobs pay more immediately than the magical world of publishing.
Essentially, my Kickstarter project was put in place to fund the time and tools I needed to finish my novel by July. I put up a goal of $950 and a period of 10 days. To be honest, I was pretty sure I wasn't going to meet my goal. I hoped, of course, but hope and a dollar won't get me a vanilla chai at Starbucks, you know? A few friends of mine chimed in: 10 days was way too short a time, and offering ebook incentives probably wouldn't bring backers to the yard. I conceded that my friends were probably right, but let's see what happens.
An hour after I posted the project to Twitter and Facebook, I was at a quarter of my goal. Big time cheerleaders - Scarlett, Scott, Amanda, Jack, and a bunch of my other friends - rallied to the cause and hyped the project like it was their reason for living. The Disney community, the improv community, the Stephen King community, and the other creative folks in my life came together. By noon, I was halfway to my goal. When I stepped off the train in front of my gym, I had made it. I had made my whole goal in a single day.
Humbled and awed. Those were the most intense feelings, as I stood there outside the Boston Sports Club in Central Square with tears in my eyes. I kept trying to quantify this: this meant more than me. This was a testament to the power of creativity, and what it means to people, and how it binds them. It was a show of faith, and a statement of the generosity of the human spirit. Stuff like that.
My friend Marty gave me a virtual kick in the pants about that, indicating that while it might be those things too, the reality is simpler: nearly everyone who donated has read my work and likes what I write. They want more of it to happen.
More humbled. More awed. And more determined to make I'm On Fire the best damn book it can be.
I've reached my goal of $950 and I've now gone significantly past that. Some people have asked if they can still donate. The answer is yes. Continuing to fund the project continues to fund me, and my efforts as a columnist, poet, short story writer, and novelist. Especially novelist. I am launching a massive re-write schedule for myself; after I'm On Fire, I'm jumping into my two partially finished books, Tangerine and American Storm and making those complete. From there, full reworking of my other teen novels Welcome to Bloomsbury and Roller Disco Saturday Night before going back to my adult books and getting those publication-ready.
I write a lot because writing is my life. I said to a friend last night, "Art makes us forever," and I really believe that. Judging by the response I've been getting on this, I'd say you guys believe that, too.
Once again, thank you all for the opportunities you've given me here. I love you. I love everything!
To find out more about the project, or to pledge, click here:
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