What was this fiscal year like for Arcane Inkdustries?

With the end of last weekend, outside of a new pop-up signing, this year is in the books financially. In a couple months we will have the end-of-year review, but I did want to talk about this convention season, because it was so very, very different than any we've really had before.

This year was definitely a downward trending year. We didn't do as many shows, and with no new books until two weeks ago, most of our old fanbase already had what we were selling.

I think it was also a hard year for most people financially. Tracking both this year and 2024 shows a definite downtrend, while last year went up. The last few years have been so extremely hard, and here in the United States, every other year is now inundated with requests for money from candidates and causes. Combined with a hard economy, everyone has had to tighten their belts.

But I think sometimes that makes the stories so memorable. April started with my mother in her very first convention behind the table. RetroXpo, in an athletic complex in the middle of Rhode Island. She got to see what we do, and meet new fans. We started planning for The Shattered Wing that day, knowing it was a year out.

The shows were smaller, and yet more intimate. Speaking with parents of kids who wanted more fantasy books, but were too shy to talk to a fantasy author. Or talking with a young kid who really just wanted to quiz me on EVERY Greek God in the pantheon (I flubbed on a demigoddess, this kid really knew her stuff).

Some of our bigger shows were also some of the harder ones. Every year venues raise their prices, which means showrunners have to raise table fees. I would say that most weekend-long shows now cost us around $450, and that is often before things like food, parking, and gas. And in a struggling economy, it hits harder for us as a small publisher when the margins keep shrinking.

Now, don't get me wrong. I had a blast attending Boston Fan Expo, and am hoping that we are able to do several of the bigger shows next year. But we are definitely going to be more strategic on where we go, and what our budget is going to be like.

And lastly, I think I am falling more and more in love with these smaller shows and craft fairs. Last Sunday was the inaugural Medford Halloween Craft Fair. Right in the middle of the square, on the banks of Mystic River. There were high schoolers playing music on the bandstand, some awesome food trucks, plenty of games and activites for kids of all ages.

This was a huge golden button on the season for me. Families with young kids were opening up Legends of the Realm and then just chatting for a while. We made a ton of sales from people I thought would have just ignored us. They were excited to have an author at the event. (Yup, I'm usually the only writer at these markets and craft fairs. It makes it a nice surprise for people).

Next year will be the tenth anniversary of starting to do shows. I started by sitting next to a friend in a convention center just outside Philadelphia, clutching my first book and hoping people would be at all interested. Now I'm hoping that next year the epic fantasy is the cornerstone for the next ten, twenty, even fifty years of my writing career.

To everyone who we met this year, and reconnected with, I hope you enjoyed Arcane Inkdustries and saying hello. You were amazing to talk to.

All the best. Hope to see you in 2027.

This week's newsletter is sponsored by:

State of the Inkdustries

The Innkeeper's Dirge - I got to have a big writing week! Put almost 8,000 words in by Friday! Book three is finally past the quarter-mark, and it only took 55,000 words! Yes, this is definitely an insanely large book for me, and I'm loving diving into the story.

The Shattered Wing is almost completely formatted, including some wonderful chapter illustrations and the proper typesetting. The amount of decision you have to make is insane, but super necessary. What font is the page numbers going to be, what are your headings going to be? Write out every bit of copyright. But The Shattered Wing is going to look amazing on your shelf. Coming 2027, and if you haven't checked out the page, make sure you do so here!

Legends of the Realm - Legends of the Realm Volume 1 is pretty much shipped out! If you received your copy and want to talk it up, make sure you do so on Facebook, Threads, Bluesky, or Instagram, and tag us and let us know what you thought.

Colors have begun on Shania's comic! We are so close to having every book written, drawn, and formatted for 2027, and that is such a wonderful feeling.

The Lore Corner

The Festival of Wintersong

Strangely enough, there are not many celebrations and holidays on Tir Aileni. Many historians note that holidays are often brought about either through griefs, triumphs, or religious observances of the former reasons. With the gods having reigned for millennia and then left the world shortly after the war with Phaedron, most holidays are small regional affairs celebrating local victories in the War of Unanswered Prayers.

There is one singular festival that resonates across Tir Aileni. And this, like so many other troubles and celebrations, can be blamed on the bards.

Winter is a hard season for traveling bards. The snows piled high, the people buried deep into their own homes. If a bard does not have a patron or holed up with enough coin, the harsh winter months can turn quite deadly.

It almost claimed the life of one particular bard. Gryss Hopps was a particularly indigent musician. What coin he received for his performances was quickly spent on wine, women, and a decadent bed. Come the winter, he found himself wandering on one of the high northern roads. Broke, hungry, winds tearing at his cloak, and not able to even light a fire deep in the snows.

Gryss stumbled upon the town of North Portumbridge. Even before the council of Naubleroth, the northern regions of the Empire were cold and unforgiving. Gryss Hopps stood in the town square, wrapped in his cloak, and none would dare open their door for a stranger.

Gryss settled down in the square, fully prepared to freeze to death. But he would not leave this world without one last song. He pulled his lute from its case, and began to play. The night winds continued to rage, but they seemed to only echo the tune and dirge of Gryss. Hour after hour he played, hoping to warm someone’s heart enough that they would open the door.

He did not stop playing until he heard a soft cry. Gryss turned, and in a small corner of the square, there huddled a man and his young child. As rich as the bard, they could only pack the snows into a small hovel and hope it would keep the winds at bay.

The bard was moved. He stood up, and moved towards the two. But what could he do? Even if there was coin, or food, that was not what they needed. They needed warmth.

So Gryss Hopps took the lute in his hands, and broke it over his knee. Snapped it into so much tiny kindling. He dug down in the snow with his bare hands until he struck the cobblestones, and placed the shattered instrument on it.

In an instant the father sprang from his resting place. He grasped two stones, and with a mighty strike, the kindling caught. In seconds there was a fire. Not roaring, or bright. But it shone there on that cold winter night, and the child huddled close.

From above, a sapphire light shone down from the heavens. The winged goddess Gallantil had shown her favor. Instantly the doors to every home were flung open. The people rushed to save the man and his child. Gryss was laid down by the mayor’s own fire.

Wintersong is a time of celebration, and of shame. A reminder from the gods that even in the darkest of times, one must open their heart, and their door to the stranger. For one day, you too may be a wandering soul, desperate for the light in the dark.

Thank you for reading. I hope that this sparked a piece of magic for you this week.

Until next time.

Blessings,

Jack Holder

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