A couple of days ago I remembered that I’m a writer. Or at least, I’m supposed to be. I haven’t written a word of fiction in about three weeks. Yeah, with NaNoWriMo and my plan to participate, and I still didn’t manage to get a single word down until a few days ago.
I was working on something else. On irevuo. There’s a lot going on behind the scenes. Plugins to install, themes to optimize, and stuff like that. I spent a lot of time studying other websites, reading magazines, trying to figure out a layout for our magazine and all that stuff.
But I don’t regret anything. Not at all. Because it’s my dream. And because I owe it to those who contributed to making this dream a reality. Quite frankly, I can’t thank you enough for this opportunity. Because you’ve granted me the chance to change something, or at least try. And that’s worth more than all the money in the world.
Sometimes life feels unfair. And it is. Good and bad feel like abstract notions, vague and absurd, something we can’t quite grasp or analyze or understand. And we feel powerless.
One thing the Internet has changed is that all artists can try to find an audience. All they have to do is set up a website/blog. Amazon’s KDP and Smashwords, etsy, society6, deviantart, all these websites are making it all look simple. You just have to upload some files and hit publish. That’s all it takes.
But it really is as simple as that?
I’m afraid not. 80% of all published books, traditionally or self-published, never sell more than 100 copies. That’s right… some friends, some coworkers, a few relatives, and a couple of strangers if you’re lucky.
There are eight million books on Amazon. Eight million. Self-publishing now, as easy as it seems, means that you’re placing your book on the bottom shelf of the biggest bookstore in the world. Or the top shelf, far from people’s reach.
And then you have to promote, to try to make readers find your book. You have to make them want to read it so bad that they’ll actually pay for it.
The same goes for paintings, sculptures, and basically any kind of art.
And that’s what irevuo wants to change. To give artists a new way of getting noticed, to offer them a new method of reaching an audience. Because whether we like to admit it or not, we all need an audience. Whether a million or just one, we all need to feel that our art matters to someone other than ourselves.
That’s why I stopped writing. I wanted to make irevuo as brilliant a site as possible. And I wanted to explore and analyze all the possibilities, all the opportunities. Because artists deserve it. And I strenuously believe that irevuo can change the world one artist at a time.
But I also have to admit that I might have got carried away by all this. I kind of shamelessly promoted and tried too much to obtain the funding that we need. In a way, I felt frustrated because that was the only thing I could do. It’s a strange thing… if I had the money, I would have financed this project myself. There’s no doubt about it.
And I had to rely on others for help. I had to ask for help, I had to try my best to obtain the money that we needed. And, even though I honestly believed that we wouldn’t get enough people interested in our project, we managed to obtain the money that we needed for the website. We also got a lot of positive response from folks, a lot of people who liked and shared our project.
With 11 days to go, we’re incredibly close to reaching our extended goal and obtain the funding that we need to make irevuo magazine, a quarterly magazine aimed at promoting, reviewing, and interviewing unknown artists. Print and digital, full color, gorgeous layout. Yes, most of the money we need to buy Adobe Digital Publishing, so we can make a really great digital edition of our magazine – the world is slowly turning digital, so there’s no reason not to exploit this avenue.
With 11 days to go, we only need $347. Not from just one person, but from a bunch of folks who are willing to contribute to this project of ours. We’ve got some really cool perks – t-shirts, magazine copies, advertising on our site (or in the magazine). There’s something for everyone.
I believe we can raise the money we need. After all, when the project went live, we raised $250 in the first day. Two more days like that one and we can focus on making irevuo as fantastic as we can. We can start sending out e-mails, asking artists for interviews in the January edition of our magazine.
How could would that be? irevuo magazine… that’s a dream well worth pursuing, regardless of the cost.