Kickstarter: A Kick Right In The Balls, or New Starts For Dead Careers. Part 2

The Thrill Has Just Begun

In the interim between presenting my pitch to Kickstarter and their initial response of denial, I watched my "Preview Page," where potential backers (at that stage, most likely friends, family, and acquaintances) could provide feedback to help ensure the project's success (graphic follows.)

As the graphic illustrates, no one left feedback on my Preview Page; however, a few friends left feedback on my Facebook page.  Their feedback demonstrated that my friends not only read the pitch, but also thought my endeavor worthwhile.  A couple of friends even mentioned their anticipation of receiving their "Rewards."  If feedback from a few friends on one's Facebook page serves as a representative sample, my campaign had a fighting chance.   

"Balloon Rides!"

In Kickstarter parlance, a "Reward" is something tangible that donors receive for chipping in to a campaign.  About rewards, Kickstarter states, 

Everyone loves limited editions, one-of-a-kinds, and fun experiences (parties, screenings, balloon rides!). Spend some time brainstorming your rewards and people will respond. No one needs another coffee mug.  (http://www.kickstarter.com/start) 

I, too love limited editions, and I also love and need another coffee mug because I use the same one every day, but I'll be a top hat before I offer a preposterous reward like a balloon ride because, to start, I'm not going to the trouble of pricing liability insurance in case one of my donors falls out.  A party's not a bad idea, if you factor in the costs to fly your donors in, but since "[p]rojects cannot offer alcohol as a reward," (http://www.kickstarter.com/help/guidelines), checking into airfare's not worth the hassle, either.  Then again, maybe my donors can take a balloon to Houston for the party.  I'm thinking outside the box here!

I offered nothing as pedestrian as another coffee mug nor as preposterous as a party in a hot air balloon.  In order to, at once, offer something unique (and for the $15 donor, limited) and manage costs, I offered rewards that were consistent with my campaign:  music.  My rewards were to be:  

• For donations of $10:  "A CD-R complete with custom artwork by the artist! The artwork will be, let's say, "out of the ordinary."

• For donations of $15:  "A CD-R complete with customer artwork by the artist! Your copy will be one of a kind: that's the SPFOM guarantee! Also, your copy might contain, say, an autographed recipe by the artist!"  

Incidentally, this served as inspiration for the $15 reward:    http://www.dementlieu.com/users/obik/bigblack/discog/lungs.html

If you're reading this and you're saying to yourself, "Wow, I'd have given that guy $15 for a CD-R AND a razor blade," I'm sorry to say you would have been out of luck.  More like a small piece of artwork fit for framing.  Or an autographed recipe.  Maybe a Charlie's Angels trading card, if I still have them.  

Also consistent with my campaign, my rewards were humble.  Maybe not as humble as the cup, but certainly more so than an offer to join the SPF One Million Mile High Club.  I stated that I wasn't interested in making an album, but I was willing to reward my donors with something handmade, genuine, heartfelt, and, again, unique, something each donor could cherish and call his own.  Handmade and humble, yes, but not half-assed.  I even thought about including new songs from yet another of my artistic guises, Ectomorph, if I could get my hands on a loaner guitar.  As it turns out, I didn't have to worry about learning to play guitar again, rooting around for Charlie's Angels trading cards, or write out a pasta recipe by hand.

A Dream Deferred

Within two days of submitting my pitch, I received a message from Kickstarter stating that they'd elected to pass on my campaign (graphic follows.)

Upon receiving Kickstarter's denial message, I was ready to pat myself on the back for giving it a try; furthermore, the message did nothing to sway my belief that my ideas could stand up next to anybody's, the next guy's or the next gal's even if she's Amanda "Fucking" Palmer, never mind that my campaign was not consistent with their "focus."

A few day's ago, I was talking to one of my neighbors.  A subject came up, one with which most of us are familiar:  the notion that we're only, I don't know what it is, seven degrees (?) away from any given person.  And goddamn you Kickstarter, you brought me one degree closer to that sniveling little shit Zach Braff.  If I'd only known...

I'm going to save most of the details for the next installment, but for now, I'll just say that learning about Zach Braff's successful Kickstarter campaign was like learning that there's no such thing as Santa Claus.  I recovered quickly enough, in time to realize that Kickstarter doesn't smell quite as nice as they'd you to believe it does.  But maybe I should thank them; arguably, Kickstarter's first denial extended my campaign and steered it in a new direction.

My dear readers, in parting, I'd like to, for your doggedness, offer you a compelling reward to ensure you'll come back for Part III.  Call it my appeal to you, if you'd like (graphic follows.)

Thank you for your consideration.