Donation donated. That’s satisfying, and also never enough. I sold a book! That’s not grand news, but a specific book sold in a specific way that meant I donated the proceeds to a charity. That’s the satisfying part. Understanding the need is why I also know it barely helps, yet I do it anyway. I sold a copy of Kettle Pot Cup through Lulu, which meant The International Roundtable For Sustainable Tea (THIRST) received a donation.
The donation was only ~$15, which then got converted to another currency. The book sold through Lulu.com. If it had sold through Amazon.com, the donation would’ve been only $1, and probably eaten up in transfer fees. Somewhere in there, some company is making $14 from what is a fundraising function.
I’ll explain by copying from my post (Kettle Pot Cup Launched) about launching the book.
“This is not a serious book, but it is for a serious cause. Like many of the things we eat and drink, the people who make it happen don’t always make as much as the final retail price may suggest. … For the last few years my business has been – waiting for a recovery; which meant I didn’t have much to donate, sadly. But wait! I may not have money to give, but I could write a book. Give the appropriate charities the book proceeds and maybe I could contribute in more ways than I expected.”
Note that date.
1) Kettle Pot Cup Launched – May 26, 2022, e.g. during Covid
2) I didn’t notice until now that this is an anniversary for the book.
Books are not always about the sales. Book sales are the easiest way to compare a book’s popularity, but there are other reasons to write a book.
Since my move to my tiny house (My Tiny Experiment), I haven’t taught my course in self-publishing. During the class, I’d emphasize motivation, not the motivation of the characters, but the motivation of the author. Why write this particular book? Sales, sure. But sometimes: chronicle an event, record family history, advocate for a cause, prove that you can do it, get past it so you can get on to the next thing on your to-do list.
“I didn’t have much to donate, sadly. But wait! I may not have money to give, but I could write a book.”
The book is effectively a non-profit, though not officially. I simply get a note from my bank about a deposit, pass along the profit, and get back to work – usually enjoying a cup of tea. (Today’s sip is a bit of loose-leaf Assam mixed with loose-leaf Keemun that I mix on my own after buying them from Dandelion Botanical. Sip. Swallow. Type.) I do not optimize for tax benefits. I consider any lost opportunity an implicit donation to the authorities. I am glad to avoid the bureaucratic complexity of tracking such small amounts through interminable worksheets and forms.
I’d also celebrate it if the book became so successful that an accountant was required.
It is gratifying to produce something that can produce donations without much effort from me – that is after having written the book.
(Note: A caution for writers: I spent so much time typing that year that my joints locked up. I’m continuing to recover from that. My dancing is almost back. My hiking is lagging. At least my bicycling has recovered. I’m glad there’s no video of me stumbling to the bathroom in the middle of the night as my knees haven’t had time to wake up.)
It is also gratifying, actually fun, to hear about buyers spontaneously reading passages out loud to everyone in the store because they enjoyed it so much. Just because it is a fundraiser does not mean it can’t contain fun. The word already does.
If you want more details, I suggest reading that launch post I mentioned above. If that does not suffice, send me a note, and I might write about what’s missing.
Thanks to whoever bought the book (in hardback and color!). Thanks for buying it through Lulu. To those who bought it through Amazon, thanks, too. Even if those copies didn’t raise any funds, they might raise awareness of the lives of the women who pick the tea leaves by hand. That awareness may be more than valuable enough. Thanks.
tomthewriter.com 
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