An anonymous poster spurred me to such a long and tangential reply that I've promoted it to a new post. Anonymouse writes:

I wonder if the patronship in this form is a good idea in the end.

You refer to the history of patronship and in that history patrons paid for something like a music or a book to be written for them. but in most cases the work was still going public later on. Reading about the effort you put in to this and knowing the quality of your other work — wouldnt it be better to give the patrons a 2 year exclusive version and then publish the adventure to a broader audience? Not only the adventure would not vanish in only 50 bookshelfs it would also generate more money for you.

I just shudder at the idea of a sourcebook (you mentioned that you may plan on a sourcebook) with great background material to vanish — it could be valuable for so many groups.

I argue that lack of distribution is part of the appeal. The Renaissance princes and popes who commissioned work for their private libraries, manors, or chapels generally did NOT share them with the public. It was status stuff, really, meant for an elite that could (in theory) appreciate the art better than the masses. Much of that work "went public" decades or even centuries later. Some of it has never entered the public eye.

But I do take your point. The more work I invest in the project, the more the oddness of working for an audience of 50 hits me. I'm trying to generate the best work possible, and the small audience does spur me on with feedback in a way that large anonymous crowds never have. Would would I want to limit the audience at all? It's not normal in our pop culture to make private art. It's frankly a little weird.

Our gaming culture is a niche, but it pretends it isn't. Even the small press publishers are *trying* to reach a mass audience, get better distribution, advertise to as large a group as possible. They might be failing to reach the masses, but they don't question the goal. Why not embrace our niche-ness?

At the same time, the US middle class is rapidly declining^[1]. Regardless of your take on the broader social implications of that trend, the increasing wealthy class is an opportunity for artists, writers, and other creative types to take their work private again.

Writing for a niche is fairly liberating: I don't have to stay under the wordcount limits that WotC or Paizo ask for, I don't have to worry about pleasing anyone except myself and my patrons, I don't have to work around WotC's squeamishness, politicking, and fan-service. For anyone sick of the mainstream, this model is a creative license to go wild. If the price is a smaller audience, that's not all bad.

Part of me loves the fact that this is a secret, insider thing, something people discover by word of mouth. We're surrounded by mass media, by stuff available to everyone, the same books, YouTube video, cable, Hasbro in every chain bookstore. D&D used to feel more like a fanclub, and I liked that feeling. With the Hasbro emphasis on broadening the market (which makes total sense for a corporation responsible to shareholders), there's less of that lately. It's über-niche.

The two-year exclusive is interesting, and a time limit might be worth experimenting with next time. But I disagree that it's necessarily a better bet financially. The expenses of generating complete interior art, paying an editor, cartographer, and so on might outweigh the potential income. Plus adventures just don't sell as well as sourcebooks. And frankly, this sort of project isn't just about money (I would certainly earn more writing something else).

In any case, it's not how I set this one up, so barring a mass dispensation from my 50 Popes, this one will stay with the patrons on their shelf. Dare I suggest you join the patron elite?

[1] Don't take my word for it. The Washington Post says it has dropped 17% since 1970, and real wages are declining for that group.