When I decided to write this article, I considered writing about things I’ve learned from my recent Kickstarter campaign. However, after putting some thought into it, I realised it wouldn’t be able to give the fullest picture about the entire experience before completing fulfillment. After all, my publishing process is currently still in effect.
I chose to settle on something less of a learning point but more of an emotional log. This article wouldn’t be useful for more established creators. If you’re looking for business-related pointers, you can skip this article. However, I hope that this little log can give a little assurance to new creators who wish to embark on a crowdfunding journey.
Other than that, you can consider it as an official record of my first crowdfunding experience.
Days Before the Launch
Bluntly speaking, the 48 hours before Legions of Kadmon’s Kickstarter Campaign might have been one of the most—if not the most—nerve wracking experience I’ve ever had in my life.
Months before I launched Legions of Kadmon on Kickstarter, I did my fair share of studying crowdfunding campaigns. Expectations (some are unreasonable) come with all those studying. If you have spent days exposing yourself to campaigns that have been exceptionally successful, you will naturally develop a similar level of expectations when it comes to your campaign. It is important to not let these expectations consume your decision of launching your campaign.
The amount of anxiety I had days before the campaign was unreasonable. I would be lying if I say that there wasn’t the thought of delaying the launch. There was no doubt that I probably missed things here and there. Some sections could have been done way better (durn you marketing!). I was plagued with the idea that: If I don’t hit that hundred million dollar, it’s a failed campaign. So it’s better not to launch. This is a horrible mindset, especially for a new and unknown publisher.It was impossible to sleep on the two nights before the campaign’s launch. I found myself waking up in the middle of the night thinking about what could be—both positively and negatively.
Launch Day
For context, I launched the campaign at 11pm Singapore Time (where I’m from). When I refer to launch day, it referred to the day when I spent 15 hours waiting to press the launch button.
During this period, there really wasn’t much I could do. It felt like the day of an exam. No last-minute studying could possibly save you from what’s coming. Launch day was all about managing my raging anxiety. I spent a lot of time in my living room, just sitting on the couch and staring into the white wall while I fiddled with a nerf gun. On that day, my priority wasn’t to make sure the launch went great, but more on making sure that I pressed that launch button. The focus was on making sure I didn’t run away.
Looking back, I must thank the people I’ve got around me this time: everyone I’ve met throughout the years promoting Legions of Kadmon and their encouraging messages. It truly helped me a ton that day.
During this time, it is very important to anchor yourself to the present. Stop thinking about what could be or what you could have done. Talk to your family members and friends. Read those encouraging messages. And for me personally, re-reading Chapter 82 of Oathbringer (The Girl Who Stood Up) gave me a lot of comfort.
An hour before pressing the launch button, I summoned a bunch of my friends to hop on a Discord call. They were the folk who have tested Legions of Kadmon the most throughout the development process. The call wasn’t meant to be celebratory or anything like that. It was to ensure I didn’t run away.
And yes, it worked!
The Climb: From Launch to Funding
After pressing that launch button, all of my anxiety disappeared in an instant. The first few hours became a thrilling experience. I was incredibly touched by the people who backed my project in the very first hour. It was nearing midnight in Singapore, and still there were people locally who were present in the first hour. Some of those names were really unexpected. There were also names from across the globe—people I’ve met through Dragonsteel Nexus. I would cherish that memory forever, and for the first timers, I would suggest cherishing that forever.
I spent the first three hours sending private messages to my closest friends (those I knew wouldn’t mind receiving a message at 1am from me). Some of them responded immediately, sending a congratulatory note. Most were probably asleep. I fiddled around the Kickstarter dashboard which was completely new to me just to get myself accustomed with it. Afterwards, I hit the bed for the best sleep I’ve had in days.
First 24 Hours
Coming into the first day, I had plans. I was going to send a personal message to 200 people in my contact list. These are old friends, families, your exes (bosses, lovers, besties—yep go and face those bad bloods) I have curated months before launch.
Getting to connect with my old acquaintances again was fun. It became an amazing opportunity not only to talk about my passion but also to catch up with what they have been doing all these years. We ended up sharing lots of cool experiences and it felt a lot like multiple high school reunions happening all at once.
Not all of them replied. My only suggestion would be: talk to those who did, don’t push your luck with those who didn’t and instead of trying to convert them into backers, focus on reconnecting with these folk. They were your friends first before anything. And as your first crowdfunding campaign, these were the ones who would definitely support you with the least hesitation.
After a full day of reconnection, I found myself staring at the funding goal graph and stupidly fell into a depressive vortex. I mentioned expectations at the beginning of the article. Yep, those “potential futures” were getting to me once again, and it was biting harder.
Looking at the trend the campaign was going, I was certain that it wouldn’t go as far as I had wished for it to be. In that moment, the floodgates of grief opened up. This is a point where your expectations would meet reality. Looking back, I think the gap between my expectations and reality was really big. If you don’t believe me, take a look at the Stretch Goals I’ve prepared for the campaign. It got really bad to the point that I lost all appetite and I just want to lie on my bed.
I remembered going to sleep early during this time. Part of me was hoping that I would wake up to see the project funded.
It didn’t, of course.
The Morning Before Getting Funded
The second day was worse. At this point, the campaign was at about 90% of its funding goal. The panic got even worse when I began to think: what if I couldn’t even reach my funding goal? At this stage, my own negativity pushed myself into a corner. I could have done many things: make a post on Instagram to hype it up, share it with more people, make a post on Board Game communities. Instead, I cowered in fear. I was genuinely down on my bed, looking at the progress bar on my phone.
At this stage, the weight of my expectations were still crashing down on me.
It crept slowly and at about 9.15 AM in the morning, we hit the funding goal. And am I happy? Sigh…Honestly, when I looked back during this moment, I rolled my eyes, thinking how immature that was to feel the way I felt. You might think that I would be euphoric when Legions of Kadmon hits that funding goal, but gosh I remembered feeling quite bitter about it. It was always that constant pursuit of numbers. “I should be getting funded within the first 24 hours.” “At this rate I wouldn’t be able to hit x amount of dollars.” And it was toxic.
100% Funded
I really thought that it was going to be another depressing day. And if you think about it, the idea of that was absurd. If getting 100% Funding isn’t going to make you happy? What will?
I decided to leave my house that day. I felt that I’ve been holed up in my home for too long. My cousin happened to be visiting Singapore from Germany, and we had a quick lunch. Obviously, it turned into a therapy session for me. (Thanks for listening!). Spending the whole afternoon ranting about my expectations was a good reflection. Especially when my cousin kept repeating the words: Is it really that bad?
At that moment, as I looked inwards, I realised that the game I’ve been working on for 4 years is finally getting published. At that moment, nothing else really mattered. Not the money, not the backer count. At that moment, my 4 long years worth of aspiration being fulfilled was everything to me. And yes, I got very emotional. I felt ashamed. I cried. I was then overjoyed. Then, I got into reading all the congratulatory notes from even more people and I knew that it was time to get to work!
All these expectations that led to the endless dooming. Gosh, if I chose to linger in that, the entire crowdfunding campaign ain’t going to be fun.
The Remainder of the Campaign
The first thing I did was to re-adjust my plan, starting from my Timeline. Now that I’ve accepted the truth, I can make plans around it. My priority became making sure that the 84 backers who had covered my back from the very beginning received the game in time. I don’t want to let them down.
I’m also starting to see the numbers in a brighter light. I often told myself, maybe, it just wasn’t the right time for me to take on an even bigger audience anyway. I’m still new to all of this, and maybe getting eased into the scene is beneficial for me. I’m still mostly figuring things out. The worst thing that could happen was crumbling under the pressure and failing to fulfill.
One thing’s for sure: I want to have fun during the campaign and after. If this is something I want to do again in the future, then surely, I have to find joy in this. As best as I could, I made adjustments to try and engage the existing backers better. This is something I could improve for future campaigns, but I’ll save these “learning points” for future posts.
Instead of the what ifs, I focused on the backers (as it should be). Listen to what they want, consider what they want and see if it could be done. This truly is the best opportunity for you to push yourself and connect with your first batch of audience in your creative journey.
I truly believe that my proudest moment in this campaign is making the 2 player version of Kadmon as competitive as it gets. The demand for 2 players was bigger than I thought it’d be. Despite the hiccups I’ve got during the development process, this feedback from the backers really encourages me to try and make the game mode work. I brought it to many playtests sessions to see what people thought about the mode. And I ran countless simulations for a 2 player game to envision how the “meta” would develop and determine whether or not it was acceptable.
By the time the campaign was over, Legions of Kadmon finished with 175 backers and they came from all over the world. During the campaign period, I felt focused on getting the game to the backers. I completed the Design Files early to hasten the fulfillment process. I had my fair share of “customer service” moments, and frankly some of the backers gave really good advice—not only with regards to the game, but also insights on the industry. It was really cool!
Afterword
There is the business side, and there is the creator side of things. If you look at it purely from a business standpoint, many would probably think that the entire project has been a horrible investment. But I often forget that as a creative, I am doing this, first of all, because I want to create.
This for me might be that “come to Jesus” moment that everyone who pursues the arts should have. To me, this entire experience has been an accelerated process of going through the emotional roller coaster of accepting how difficult it is to succeed in the creative industry.
You might have heard from your favourite authors, actors, directors, singers, whoever you can think of: they have to try and fail many times before reaching their stage. To think that my first campaign was already a funding success, I believe that was a fate luckier than most. Every steps is part of the journey, and it must be traversed.
And yes, there are definitely a lot of lessons to learn!
This is for the record. My first crowdfunding campaign taught me that this is merely a step in an exciting adventure that you’d miss out a lot on if you overwhelm yourself with unreasonable expectations.
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