Squeak
June 8th, 2007I promise what you are about to read will all come back to my new endeavors as a bookseller, but it won’t start out looking related at all.
This year, I’m on my own again after ending a 17 year partnership that included 8 years of marriage. Financially, this means a loss of more than 50% to me (software trumps most other professions, still.)
When I dreamed up my scheme to focus on finding books to re-sell online, I imagined I’d be adding enough income to my life to pay for my own health insurance. I know - me and my crazy ambitions. I’d start out supplementing eBay sales with books in other venues, over time building the books as a more regular business, and keeping eBay for the occasional lucky jack-pot. Thus, I could afford to see a doctor if I was foolish enough to get sick or hurt.
This seemed like a pretty low-pressure scenario, fitting right in with my desire to change as little about my life as possible besides the - you know - husband. (A wonderful man, but his wife didn’t understand him.) My business has been steady for the last 4 years, and I had enough work on the books to cover the basics. For me, this was an unusually mature, prudent approach to managing change in my life.
Things have not gone according to plan.
A week before I was due to start my largest single job of the year, the client took their work elsewhere. My work is fairly highly paid, but my market is a relatively small pond. With luck, I might pick up a few odd days, but replacing that job, on such short notice, just wasn’t going to happen.
Suddenly, selling books took the lead in my revenue streams. Clueless or not, I was in a position of having to make money appear out of nowhere. I decided to stick to my plan, and try to sell books.
Before you get your hopes up, be forewarned: it doesn’t turn out that through sheer determination and a heap of good luck, I was instantly successful, saved the farm, and lived blissfully ever after. That’s not the way this story goes.
The way this story goes is: I got a taste of how dead easy it is to spend money on books that are, essentially, roughage. I had time to discover that bookscouting is an even more elusive skill than I’d feared. I did sell a few books, which helped round out the other stuff I sold on eBay, which paid my essentials for the month. That’s it. I squeaked by.
In short, I am not a bookselling prodigy. Does this bode well for my future bookselling endeavors? In all likelihood, it doesn’t bode at all. Pressure doesn’t necessarily make outcomes more significant or meaningful. If it turns out I’m “book-deaf,” I’ll have to accept it. Meanwhile, I am better prepared to be clueless for quite a while longer. You can only learn things as fast as you can learn them.