In light of Amazon’s latest shenanigans, this time involving Dragon Award-winning mega best seller Nick Cole, author Benjamin Cheah revisits my concept of neopatronage.
During the Renaissance, the wealthy supported up-and-coming artists through a patronage system. The artist was able to earn a living and create masterworks. The wealthy in turn earned bragging rights for being the person who made such art possible. We could see a return to such a model.
Elle Griffin discusses the possibility of creating an angel investment fund to support artists—including writers. The investors agree to fund the writer, and in turn earns a cut of the writer’s royalties.
I don’t think this will work out for most writers, for the very simple reason that most books won’t earn a significant amount of royalties. Investors will demand a return on investment, and the royalties most books earn will barely cover production costs. The kind of author who can launch a book and earn the kind of royalties that would attract an investor is the kind of author who doesn’t need an investor.
If we take the idea of attracting patrons or angel investors, and incorporate crowdfunding and blockchain technology, here’s how it might work:
An investor or group of investors agree to fund a writer’s salary. They direct their social media followers to him, and the followers in turn also send more money his way. The writer is then able to work full-time on the book. He may provide real-time updates on a private website or Substack. When he is done, he sends a copy of his manuscript to everyone who supported him—and to the original investors, he gives them an NFT of his book.
The value of an NFT does not lie in the NFT itself. A digital NFT isn’t scarce. An NFT can be easily reproduced simply by taking a screenshot or by copying and pasting the NFT elsewhere.
The value of the NFT lies in the transaction. It is in the irrevocable record on the blockchain that shows conclusively who purchased a copy of the NFT. Armed with this proof of purchase, the patron can boast to his friends and say, I funded this writer, I helped to kickstart a new genre, I am a patron of the arts. In so doing, he signals that he has excellent taste, he can recognize trends, and he has plenty of money to spare—which reinforces his reputation and opens new doors.
An investor may also receive a cut of the royalties from book sales. But I don’t expect this to be a substantial return on investment, unless the investor is also an influencer with a huge following, who regularly points his audience to the book he helped to commission. In this scenario, more than just offering financial support, he is kickstarting the author’s career.
The key to making this work is in segmenting the value proposition of the author and the book. To the super-wealthy, value lies in the social status that comes from backing an artist, in having a stake in the creation of new art, and in being perceived as a patron of the arts. To the regular reader, values lies in the book itself, and in the knowledge of being able to support an artist. An artist with this business model needs to communicate both value propositions fluently.
Of course, this is just one possible scenario. There are many, many roads to success, and technology is opening more roads to success.
Benjamin has come up with some creative models, there. He’s right about the inherent paradox in the angel investor model, which doesn’t mean it won’t happen. Often, it’s the people in least need who get the most assistance.
The model involving a group of backers looks like the most viable scenario to me. It could be an old man yells at cloud moment, but the mention of NFTs reads like a bid to boost SEO by sprinkling in a trending buzzword. The NFT concept flies in the face of ontological realism–without which you get crises fueled by imaginary money like the 2008 housing crash and student loan debacles. “The value of the NFTs lies in the transaction” is a roundabout way of saying NFTs have no intrinsic value.
Also, as the Stonetoss flurk fiasco shows, NFTs are far from censorship-proof.
But regardless of the specific mechanism used to transact the eventual neopatronage model, all that’s necessary is for an author to develop a modest but loyal following who will show up to buy whatever he writes. Build a readership of 1,000 avid fans who will turn out on launch day, no questions asked. Release $100 worth of content a year. You now earn six figures.
Amazon gave countless writers their start and blazed the alternate path that enabled newpub to circumvent the oldpub gatekeepers. But nothing lasts forever, and it’s becoming apparent that KDP has served its purpose. Whatever comes next for indie authors, it’s exciting to know we’ll have a hand in deciding the shape of what’s to come.
If you need expert advice finding your audience, my friend and business associate, top ghostwriter Joshua Lisec, is here to help.
Take his informative course now.
The “Reliable 1000” (or even “Reliable 500”) is a good model for any artist looking to make a reasonable or even comfortable living. That step to find the 500 or 1000 or more is still a huge hurdle for many. But, there is little doubt in my mind that Indie will solve that as well.
Blogging on a focused brand 6 days a week for a couple years will do it.
The fatal flaw of patronage for any art is that good art doesn’t print money; it consumes money. The wounded nature of human nature beings also leads them to bankroll whatever releases the most dopamine.
The best case scenario is that which led to the prevalence of modern art: billionaires getting duped by mediocre authors into bankrolling pretentious works that generate clout and conversations. The worst case scenario is an extension of what happened to Rennaissance sculptors and furry illustrators alike: pornography.
And yes, I literally typed “human nature beings.” I’m such a terrible author that I can’t even author comments on a weblog.
I disagree with the implication that good art doesn’t make money–before the long march through the institutions by the Death and Mammon Cultists, many skilled writers and comic makers made good incomes. Even today, after a century and more of Fichtean/Masonic schooling turning the psyches of most people in the West into automated trash heaps, if something is produced that isn’t trash it can do well, even without great marketing or Pop Cult IP skinsuiting to give it a religious following.
If, however, you are only saying that good art does not pull in cash by the freighter-load, I would probably agree. The only way that happens is lies, trickery, or visual/ideological poisons, like our host has talked about in regards to earlier generations of Hollywood lizardmen selling their message.
The lack of cash by the freighter-load itself is less of a problem than what it leads to. It nips the possibility of investments in the bud, which forces artists to rely on direct commissions from patrons.
The quality of the patrons thus determines the quality of the art. In the case of an author who has an established readership who trusts the author to write what he wants, this is fine. Otherwise, no mastery of pacing, syntax, or diction can save an author from his patrons’ collective chants to write a novel about a polyamorous gangbang.
The post we’re commenting on was occasioned by newpub authors who threatened Big Brand X so much, its controlling megacorp had to fire a shot across their bow.
I already know your playbook, Mr. Niemeier. I’m not touching your gauntlet, and I’m not giving Nick Cole my money until I’m naturally curious enough to do so.
…Which will probably be never. His website already turns me off.
From my outsider perspective the trickiest part seems to be this:
If you get physical, then after the initial transaction you are free from any dependence on the company you got it from. You have complete ownership over your copy, it can’t be censored or removed, you can give it away, etc. But physical books require a lot more infrastructure to produce than digital copies, and so from a practical point of view getting a physical book will usually (though not always) involve cooperation with an evil company.
On the other hand a digital copy gives a greater likelihood that you will be able to work with a less evil company. But (unless it is totally DRM free) you have a dependence on that company to maintain your purchase. This can be undesirable if the company is in the “better than the big guys, but still questionable” category or if there is simply doubt that they will be around in the long term.