This article was first written in November 2014 when I worked at Lantern Books, a small independent publishing company I co-founded in 1999, and which morphed into Lantern Publishing & Media in 2020. While I no longer work in publishing, I think the article contains useful information for creative folk. Some information and links have been updated.

For decades, publishers put little (if any) effort toward finding out whether readers wanted the books we painstakingly and expensively produced. We conducted no customer surveys, and relied instead on editorial hunches and the occasional word from sales reps about what genre or works were exciting the general public.

These days, however, publishers possess more surefire ways to determine whether a personality (who could be turned into their author) or a subject is gaining traction. They can loiter on platforms like Wattpad, attend conventions, trawl social media, visit Substack, check out Goodreads, or watch YouTube. They’ll be looking for people who have something to say, and, more importantly, a built-in audience willing to listen to or read about them. The more they communicate, and the more people they attract, the better.

Of course, none of this is proof positive that the book they commission will sell (or sell enough) copies to cover costs, let alone make money. If your author’s audience is used to them giving out content for free, will they spring for a product they have to pay for? Or, does the author’s audience relate to them as a writer; perhaps a new album or a documentary film would be the medium best suited to the fans of that individual?

And then there’s the reality that some people find promoting themselves difficult; their subject is esoteric or niche; and they don’t want to go through the rigmarole of seeking a mainstream publisher. How might these would-be authors handle their work, and how might a publisher handle such an author? One method I’m very familiar with is crowdfunding.

Lantern used crowdfunding—in our case, Indiegogo—on three occasions. The first, We Animals by Canadian photojournalist Jo-Anne McArthur, was a 208-page, full-color hardcover, the production of which (from writing the text to distribution) we budgeted at $35,000. After a 60-day campaign, 680 individuals bought 1280 copies and we raised $51,007. This allowed us not merely to cover the costs of the creation of this book but to print 1250 more copies than had been pre-ordered. These copies were effectively cost-free, and their subsequent sale through the usual book-distribution outlets allowed us to generate enough revenue to cover the costs associated with a conventional printing of another 3000 copies.

The second and third titles—American Icarus and America on the Couch by depth journalist Pythia Peay—were also budgeted at $35,000. Although these were not photo books, they required substantial editorial and production work. Once again, Lantern made its budget, although we relied on a couple of large donors at the end of the 60-day campaign to take us over the top.

The final book was The Art of the Animal, edited by Kathryn Eddy, L. A. Watson, and Janell O’Rourke. Like We Animals, Art is in full-color; unlike with We Animals, we assumed a much smaller market for the book, and so the budget was less: $13,500. We ran a shorter campaign (45 days) as a means of intensifying interest, and pulled in $14,190.

Before the advent of crowdfunding, none of these books would have been feasible for a small, independent press such as Lantern. Certainly, the greater availability of short-run printing and higher-quality print-on-demand technology now make it possible to produce few, full-color books. But the creation of these works still requires editors, designers, and typesetters, all of whom need to be paid. Simply put, these titles’ size and complexity would have made them too expensive to produce.

That said, crowdfunding is not a sure-fire means to raise adequate revenues. Indiegogo, Kickstarter, GoFundMe, and other sites are full of projects that didn’t get anywhere near their goal (at which point, they either forfeited nine percent of the revenues they earned or, in the case of Kickstarter, didn’t receive any of the money pledged). So, what have I learned in these campaigns that might help you lessen the chances of not making your goal?

1. Set a reasonable target. Unless your project is very high-profile with a huge built-in fan-base, be very hard-headed about how much you can raise. If in doubt, only use crowdfunding for a part of the project. It’s better for your morale, for your customers, and for your bottom line to meet the smaller goal than fall far short of the bigger one.
2. Orient the campaign toward a thing. Kickstarter began as a way for artists to raise money for their albums, books, shows, and so on. If you make the goal vague or numinous, it has much different expectations. To that end, therefore . . .
3. . . . Don’t think of your campaign as charity. Yes, folks may want to support you in a general sense, but you need to think about the campaign as delivering a product. Use words like pre-order, investment, buy. Resist using words like donate, charity, give. Change your attitude, and that of your customers. They are getting something, and not just being kind.
4. Make a movie. Anecdotal evidence suggests that a movie (three minutes or less) that explains your project—where you’re talking directly to your audience and making your pitch clearly and concisely—is fundamental to a campaign’s success. It doesn’t have to be a Hollywood production, and it absolutely should not be long, but it helps. Here and here are two good examples of what to do.
5. Consider your audience carefully. Is your community enthusiastic but poor, or hard-to-reach but rich? How is your product generally valued in the marketplace? These considerations will enable you to choose and price accurately the perks you offer, in addition to branding the product in a way that speaks to your audience’s aspirations and self-image.
6. Make the perks count. The perks are those items or services that people can purchase in addition to the thing you’re trying to create. In our experience, you need to offer people a way to send you a small amount (because they want to be involved) as well as a large amount (because they want to feel like a sponsor or patron). Some campaigns, such as this one, rely on lots of small purchases; others need a combination of $30 and $500 ones. On the one hand, you need to ensure you can earn enough through the simple acquisition of the product and not rely on the big buyers. On the other, it’s advisable to provide folks with the option of purchasing something expensive.
7. Budget for distribution. Your biggest headache is likely to be fulfillment. People are going to order your item from all over the world. Lantern’s solution was to estimate shipping at one rate: the relatively many who live nearer your distribution point will pay more to compensate for the relatively few who live further away, who will pay much less. Thankfully, the crowd-funding sites now allow you to automatically add shipping to the purchase to cover the costs.
8. Have a back-up plan. Use your credit card; engage a wealthy relative to step in; bring in some really amazing perks half-way through the campaign that are guaranteed to get you over the finish line. You do not want to fall short in your campaign.
9. Send bulletins. Regular messages describing the campaign, expressing thanks, and telling folks about how the production is coming along are essential. Just because somebody’s already paid for something doesn’t mean they won’t buy another copy or let their friends know about your product. Don’t bombard your backers with messages (that’s irritating), but coddle your customers.
10. Don’t just use social media to get the word out. In the campaign for Art of the Animal, nearly half the money came from those who had been emailed, as opposed to accessing the campaign through Twitter (X), Facebook, and so on. That suggests two things: (1) people want to be approached directly; and (2) crowdfunding is now so common that people are zoning it out. You need to be persistent, polite, and persuasive. Targeted emails may take longer, but they may be more remunerative than generic blasts or posts.
11. Don’t do it all yourself. Make sure you have a group of folks responsible for reaching out to the community—preferably people who are networked to people in networks. In the case of The Art of the Animal, three well-connected and committed individuals were responsible for a third of the purchases made. In the case of We Animals, the author could tap into organizations who knew her work and were willing to spread the word about the campaign to their networks. This meant that Lantern’s outreach grew exponentially.
12. Be positive. People don’t want to see your panic, smell your desperation, or hear you moan about a lack of support. They have plenty of other things to spend their money on. Make them feel part of something bold and exciting.

Crowdfunding has made many wonderful projects come to light by engaging with the audience beforehand to invest in a product and an experience. It cuts out gatekeepers, it closes the distance between creator and their audience, and it tells you (before it’s too late) whether anyone wants what you’re producing. That can be depressing, and clarifying, and perhaps freeing—or all three. Good luck!