The crowdfunding campaign for my TTRPG Chancers, findable and backable over here, has about four days left to run on the ol’ calendar. That means, by my reckoning, I have sustained a cheerful optimism about the project for about 26 days at the time of this entry. That’s an awfully long stretch for a broad-spectrum worrywart like me, and remaining in that mode can be challenging. But I think it can be wise to put in the practice for those times when outcomes and eventualities are only partly in my hands.

The very responsible and well-adjusted adult in me knows that optimism is a perspective and a choice; when I’m in paraprofessional hypnosis mode, I’m also keenly aware that such perspectives are the fruit of how we think and talk about things. It often amounts to a strange kind of mindfulness exercise. In my normal mode I’m often playfully pejorative when I talk to myself (or “engage in self-talk,” as therapists would probably say). I’ll refer to myself as clown or the more elaborate Clownsocks when I’m trying to goad myself into doing something difficult or even unpleasant. During the past month, however, I’ve tried to more often talk to myself as bud or friend, which is only slightly awkward because that’s the same language I used to talk to our backyard squirrels most days. It’s not a huge thing, but a tiny trick that might be worth remembering when I’m confronted with a long march toward something that seems nearly–but not quite entirely–out of reach.

I’ve done about 75% of the promotional work I intend to do today, and I’ve got just enough gumption left to handle the last of it. Not bad at all for a midsummer Saturday.

Although I am new to crowdfunding, I knew going in that the challenges of a promotional campaign are akin to the challenges of writing long-form fiction. The formula for fiction typically prescribes writing a compelling hook that leads into a writing-sample quality first chapter, all the while remaining mindful of pacing and the big payoff at the end. Because the middle is typically going to feature all the connective tissue and incidentals that hold the whole story together, the going to get a little bit sloggy.

I think this is especially true in detective fiction, which might be why so many of them slip into cat-and-mouse thriller territory. Mixing in one or two additional murders can go a long way toward upping the stakes and can make it easier to conceal critical clues.

In crowdfunding, there’s often a similar graph, a big obtuse angle, the letter V on muscle relaxers. Folks who’ve been keeping an eye on the launch date for will dive in first, aided and abetted by regular folks who browse crowdfunding sites by looking at the “Recently Launched” page. There will be another spike near the end, as people see projects prominently displayed on the “Ending Soon” menu. In the middle, it’s just tougher to whip up fresh interest.

The same fate might have befallen Chancers, which is entering the home stretch of its campaign over at this here link. The good news for me, however, came from three directions. One potential backer who’d been supportive of the project along the way decided to take the plunge; two of my oldest friends decided that the midpoint of the campaign was a wise time to jump in; and my good friends over at Superhero Necromancer, who are wise in the ways of crowdfunding, lent their mojo to the drive during the midpoint dip as well. More happily still, the first and the third parties, who have a reach that encompasses many RPG players, added their promotional backing to the drive and posted a link to the project so their friends could easily access it.

In fiction, the usual remedy for the morass in the middle is vicious editing. In crowdfunding, more often than not I suspect it all hinges on good luck and good friends, and not in that order.