The Odyssey: Lessons Learned
Even though there was minimal hype surrounding the release of The Odyssey, it's clear that it's underperforming. Sales are dismal. While my primary goal was to use it as a tool for developing the journaling game and navigating through Amazon's print process, and those purposes were served, it has also reaffirmed some of my preexisting notions.
Reflecting back to the initial edition of Building Theme, I encounter resistance and derision whenever I veer towards anything remotely literary or vaguely intellectual. This trend persists into the Lightspress Classics line, where sales are passable, but the negativity directed at me prompted me to remove them from DriveThruRPG. The same narrative unfolds now with the Lux Adversaria line, which I'm currently overhauling. Venturing into uncharted territory is always accompanied by risks. In a field where consumers claim to want something different but always gravitate towards familiarity, experimenting is futile. While the Lux line sees moderate success, the level of snide remarks and negativity is disproportionately high.
Someone will inevitably attribute the struggles of The Odyssey game to the price point. That's also a component of the experiment - charging what I feel a book is worth, comparable to other games on the market. Even though it’s a high price point for Lightspress, it’s not a high in the industry. I'd like to point out that there's a journaling game retailing for $15, spanning a mere 20 pages, boasting a 4.9/5 rating on DriveThru, and with Electrum bestseller status. Charging $9.99 for a 128-page PDF isn't exorbitant unless the content fails to pique interest.
My key takeaways are twofold: people are put off by reading and averse to writing.
So, where do I go from here? It took me several weeks of grappling with severe depressive episodes, but I believe I've formulated a strategy to allow me to pursue my creative vision while still catering to consumer preferences, or at the very least, avoiding the triggers that repel them.
The first step involves revamping the Lux Adversaria line. This is the straightforward part. I'll refresh the cover, discard the academic-style titles, and adjust the writing style to resemble articles found in RPG magazines, eschewing the scholarly tone.
Second, I'm halting direct adaptations. I've already made considerable progress on two other Raven & River games. The Count of Monte Cristo is written and awaits editing. A Midsummer Night's Dream is nearly 85% complete. I've decided to shelve the former for the time being, as I'm enamored with it and intend to release it eventually, even if it fails to garner significant sales. As for the latter, I've opted to strip it of its Shakespearean origins. It's now titled Dreams of the Midnight Kingdom. While this decision initially felt limiting, it affords me greater creative freedom, letting me make alterations and expansions that wouldn't have been feasible in a strict adaptation.
Given my newfound apprehension regarding the journaling game concept, I've upgraded Midnight Kingdom from a Lux Adversaria article to a full-fledged game. The fantasy iteration of The Suspicion Engine is roughly 80% complete, with Seven Kingdoms slated as the inaugural game (I won't go into the details of Seven Kingdoms here). Finalizing those rules, adapting them to the Midnight Kingdom setting, has led to something that I'm genuinely proud of.
However, I won't explicitly market it based on its origins, apart from describing it as a fantasy game centered on courtly intrigue, romantic adventure, and faeries. William who? I'm not familiar with the reference.
All of this gives me a profound sense of sadness on multiple levels, which may be difficult for many to comprehend, further exacerbating my melancholy. As mentioned, I'm emerging from a prolonged bout of depression stemming from these challenges. I remain hopeful that over time, The Odyssey finds its audience. Until then, I'll keep moving forward and try to balance what I want to create against what people will pay for.
