Tag Archives: business

The Uncertainty of Politics — and Its Affect on Small Business Investors

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I come up with a new goal and a business plan to go with it — and realize that this simply isn’t a good time to take risks.

If you’ve been following this blog for a while, you should know a little about me, but if you don’t, let me fill you in on what’s important to know for this post.

At Chicago
I crossed my wake in Chicago on August 12, 2024. Here’s my boat, Do It Now, in a slip at DuSable Marina in Chicago, exactly 6 feet away from the slip I started from in October 2022.

I’m currently 60-something. I retired from my most recent career as a helicopter pilot in 2023, after selling the helicopter, the charter company, and the cherry drying company in 2022 and 2023. I took the proceeds from those sales and used them to buy a 32-foot “pocket yacht,” which I shipped to Chicago in October 2022. I then spent most of the next two years cruising on that boat, alone and with friends, along the Great Loop. (I blog about that in my Great Loop blog, so if you’re interested, please check it out.)

Big Garage
The bigger your garage is, the more stuff you’ll accumulate to fill it.

I finished my Great Loop trip in August 2024 and trailered the boat back to the Seattle area, where I launched it in Puget sound. I then spent most of the next month cruising around there and the Inside Passage before bringing it home and cramming it into my very large garage for the winter.

In those final days on the Loop — keeping in mind that I covered more than 8,000 miles — I realized that the part of the Loop I liked the best was the northern part, say from New York City all the way up to Canada and then west into the Great Lakes. There’s nothing quite like cruising in the lakes, rivers, and canals of New York and Ontario; I felt that I could do it forever.

At Valcour Island
Here’s Do It Now anchored off Valcour Island in Lake Champlain in June 2024. I could spend a lifetime exploring the waterways of New York and Ontario.

Wouldn’t it be great to do it every summer until my age caught up with me and I was done boating?

Goals

I’m a person of personal goals and finishing the Great Loop left me kind of floundering without one. I also felt weird about being retired — not having anything to do to bring in a few bucks to cover my living expenses. I was living off my retirement savings, waiting a few more years to start collecting social security, and it didn’t look as if running out of money was going to be a problem. (I’m remarkably thrifty about some things.) Although my side gig as a silversmith did bring in some money, it was small change without the potential to get much bigger — unless I was willing to spend five days a week in my studio producing jewelry and a bunch of time finding new markets for my work. I wasn’t.

But when I finished the Loop I felt the inklings of a new goal coming on, a new business endeavor where I could spend eight months of the year cruising northern inland waters and the remaining four months soaking up the sun in Arizona. I’d use my captain’s license to offer one- and two-week cruises to a specific potential market of people, cruising in the waters I wanted to explore while teaching them what I knew about cruising. The money I brought in would cover my cruising expenses, reducing my cost of living and helping me preserve some of those retirement savings.

I’m Going to Need a Bigger Boat

But there was a catch: I needed a bigger boat.

I needed a boat with two full sleeping cabins. My guests would get the good one and I’d take the lesser one, but the lesser one had to be a lot bigger than the lesser one on my current boat. I needed to upsize and I had a few models in mind.

Of course, all of these bigger boat options, although pre-owned, would cost a significant amount of money. I figured I’d get that money by selling my home, which is fully paid for, and my current boat, which has a small loan. (I could go into a long lecture about having a paid-for home, but I won’t do it here.) I figured I’d put all of the boat proceeds and half the home proceeds into a bigger boat and use the rest of my home proceeds to buy a modest place in Tucson. After all, although I love my current home, I don’t like it nearly as much during the four months I’d be taking my annual break from the boat. Surely I wouldn’t miss it.

When I was in Arizona, I looked at homes and land and actually found two different lots that were perfect for me. One would be easier than the other to build on, but I’d still have to build on it. I built my current home, acting as General Contractor while the experts did the stuff requiring experts and I did the rest. Did I have another build in me? I thought maybe I did.

American Tug
What a deal! This 2014 American Tug could be mine for just $610K! Not what I was hoping to spend, however.

So all this is what was going through my mind when I cut this winter’s trip to Arizona short so I could attend the Seattle Boat Show. I had multiple goals for the show, but the main one was to look at used boats in the marina portion of the show. And I did. I actually found two models that would work perfectly for my new business.

The unfortunate thing was that they cost about 50% more than I was hoping to pay. Oops.

Okay, well maybe I could get a small business loan. I had good credit and could work up a business plan that would pass muster. My number-smart brain — did I mention I have an accounting degree? — went to work considering possibilities to make this happen.

How the Current Political Climate Stopped Me Cold

Meanwhile, the demented old narcissist that half the country thought should be the most powerful man in the world got sworn into office. (Did you notice how he didn’t touch the bible? I think he was afraid he’d burn his hand with the lightning God would send through it.)

And things got pretty weird pretty quick.

I won’t go into a litany of the weird shit the Orange Clown and his South African crony, the Space Karen, have subjected America and the world to. First of all, I couldn’t list it all. I stopped following the news. All I know are the things that have crept through my social media filters, things I’ve heard while I had my head in the sand and my fingers in my ears singing la, la, la, la, la at the top of my lungs.

And even that is enough.

More than enough.

Boat Longing
There will be no return to Valcour Island in a boat anytime soon. But I will get to cruise the Pacific Northwest this summer so I’m not as sad as this picture might make me look.

More than enough to tell me that I’d be insane to invest time and money in a new business in this crazy political climate. Tariffs will result in inflation far beyond what we saw over the past few years. Job losses from the shutdown of government offices and the cancelling of grants will put people in dire straits. Another recession, which is definitely possible when the guy making laws by signing executive orders keeps making asinine decisions, will make it highly unlikely that anyone will want to pay me to take them on a cruise. (Unless there’s a chance I can smuggle them into Canada, I guess. If Canada even lets us in.)

More than enough to tell me that I’d be a complete and utter fool to walk away from a paid-for house to build a new one in the kind of economic uncertainty we face, where the price of lumber and building materials could jump 50% — if such materials were available at all. And in a red state? A place where the majority of people think calling the Gulf of Mexico the Gulf of America is a good thing that proves their cult leader has their best interests at heart? (How are those egg prices doing, my deplorable friends?) And how long before they cut our social security and medicare benefits — the exact thing most Americans in my age group are relying on to take care of them in their old age?

Am I nuts?

No.

So there won’t be a new business in my future. (Well, at least not one beyond the tiny business I started late last year and will talk about elsewhere.) There won’t be cruising in the freshwater lakes, rivers, and canals of New York and Ontario and beyond, at least not in a new-to-me, bigger boat. There won’t be a new house on five acres of desert land in the foothills of the Rincon Mountains near Tucson.

There will just be the financial security and comfort of the home I’m in now, a home I love eight months out of the year. I’ll keep myself busy enough.

And learn to be satisfied without chasing down another goal.

I still have that camper for a winter escape.

I’m Not Your Support Person

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Just because my blog addresses one of your problems doesn’t mean I’m willing to spend time giving you more help or advice than what you find here.

The other day, I got an email and three texts from a fellow maker. He sells on Etsy and has had a bunch of problems with them, all of which he listed in his email message. He had read the post I wrote last year about why I left Etsy and seemed to think I would be his go-to source for help finding an alternative for his niche market handmade items.

I saw the email and got the gist of it after reading just a few lines. It was early evening — unlike too many other folks, I don’t sit with notifications turned on and respond to every bing emitted by my phone. Email, in fact, is one of the worst ways to reach me because I hate checking it. So I figured I’d give it a closer look in the morning.

Text Messages
Here are the initial three messages. I did get the email he’s referring to. I just don’t drop everything to answer emails from strangers. Does anyone?

I’m not much better with texts, which is the next way he chose to reach out. He sent three of them.

That got me kind of annoyed. Yes, I wrote a blog post about why I left Etsy. And I believe that every creator of quality merchandise should do the same. (I won’t repeat why here. Read the post.) But just because I left Etsy and wrote about it doesn’t mean I’m anyone’s source for one-on-one support for Etsy dissatisfaction.

Deja Vu All Over Again

It’s just like when I wrote computer how-to books for a living. Someone would buy one of my books for about $20 — of which I’d be lucky to see $1 of income — and they’d automatically assume that I would answer all of their questions regarding the topic of the book. I cannot tell you how many email messages and phone calls I got in the early 2000s. That’s why the Contact page on my blog says this, right at the top of the page:

Support and Frequently Asked Questions

I no longer provide support for my books, articles, Web site, or anything else by email, contact form, U.S. mail, or telephone. There are no exceptions to this rule. I simply cannot provide one-on-one support for my work — especially work that is no longer in print.

Note that it includes “Web site” and “anything else.” This person used the form on that page without bothering to read what was right on the top.

Unfair Expectations

More Text Messages
Here’s the first round of responses. When he came back with more nastiness this morning, I responded and then deleted the thread.

Rather than just delete the email message and text messages — as, in hindsight, I really think I should have — I answered him honestly, trying to be gentle about it. But he got snippy and sarcastic. When I told him that I’ve been dealing with requests for help for the past 40 years — okay, maybe just 30 — he came back with more nastiness and told me I should give up blogging.

Oh really? Being a blogger means you’ll help any schmuck who reads your words and wants personalized assistance?

I told him that after blogging for more than 20 years that wasn’t likely.

I also told him that he needs an attitude adjustment and he needs to stop expecting strangers to help him with his problems. (I wish I still had the actual text I sent, but I deleted the whole exchange right after sending that last one and, for once, Apple has actually removed it from Messages on all of my devices. Go figure.) I wasn’t being nice anymore. I was being blunt. I wanted this guy to go away and I really don’t give a damn if he likes me or not.

But that’s my point of view on the issue. Yes, I wrote about it. I wrote 2600 words about it. That’s all I have to say on this matter in a public forum. My blog does not exist as a gateway to using me for support. It’s all of the support I am willing to give, all packaged up in individual blog posts.

Solve Your Own Problems

And that brings me to this, which I see as a major problem in today’s world: no one wants to do their homework anymore. Everyone would rather just get all the answers from someone else, even if that person is a stranger.

Like me, this guy has become dissatisfied with Etsy. Well, Etsy isn’t the only place to sell. There’s Shopify and some maker co-op that the folks on Mastodon keep pushing and the solution I went with: setting up a shop with my Square account. A Google search for “where can I sell my homemade widgets” will get him started on possible solutions. Reading reviews and blog posts and forum posts about those solutions can help him learn the pros and cons of them — so he can pick the one that’s right for him and his business.

Expecting a perfect stranger to take him by the hand in a phone call and walk him through the process of finding his perfect solution is unrealistic.

I have a full life and lots of things to take up my time. (Including, apparently, ranting about situations like this in my blog.) I’m running three small businesses by myself and trying to bring in some extra income in early retirement, before taking social security payments. I should be working on my Great Loop book or making jewelry right now. (I hope to do both with the rest of my day.)

Maybe our text exchange will be a wakeup call for him.

Or maybe it won’t.

My Boat Maintenance Saga

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I try to try a new (to me) boat yard recommended by a friend and wind up right where I was last year.

As some readers might know, I’ve been planning to take most of the month of April off from boating. I’ll be driving with my friend Jason to Texas to see the eclipse (if the weather cooperates; it’s not looking good as I write this) and then on to my home in Washington state. We’re driving mostly because I need to get a bunch of stuff I don’t need off the boat, including my Honda portable generator, which I’ve never used on the boat.

The idea was to bring the boat to a yard where they could haul it out of the water, power wash the bottom, and evaluate it for painting. In general, a boat’s bottom needs to be painted every two or so years; the previous owner did it in April 2022 and it has spent 3/4 of the time since then in the water. I like the boat to be pulled at least once a year to check for damage to the hull, prop, rudder, trim tabs, and anything else under the waterline. I’m not expecting to find any damage, but who knows?

Last Year's Haulout
Here’s a photo of last year’s haul out. I really love to watch them do this. The boat lift is an amazing piece of equipment.

Plan A

Since Jason was going to join me, it made sense to have the work done someplace near where he lives (in Washington DC) so it would be convenient for him to pick me up. So he recommended the yard he uses, which I won’t name here. In early February, I contacted the owner by email and told him about the work I wanted done which included that haul out and a possible upgrade to my solar power setup to bring my panel wattage from the 160 watts that came standard on the boat to 400 watts. I also mentioned regular Volvo maintenance other than an oil change, which I’ve been doing on my own.

My contact there — we’ll call him John — seemed very friendly and assured me they’d get the work done. He asked me for photos of my current solar setup so he could get his electrical guy to work up a proposal. I waited about a month to send them — there really wasn’t any hurry — and I included more specifics about what I wanted.

I got no response.

I waited a whole week and sent them again. Still no response.

Now the clock was ticking. I’d be arriving in a little less than two weeks. I wanted to make sure he’d gotten the photos. So I called his office on Monday morning. He wasn’t in that day. I left a message with the woman who answered the phone. I didn’t get a callback.

I called again on Thursday morning. Now it was about a week until my arrival. He was out for the morning but would be back in the afternoon. I left my name and number.

John called back at a bad time. I was dealing with an unexpected bad weather situation near the mouth of the Elizabeth River on my way to Hampton. The seas were so bad that I’d decided to turn around and was hunting for a place to duck into for the night. I answered the phone but told him I’d have to call back.

I called back around 5 PM when I was settled into a marina in much calmer water. Had he gotten the photos? He said he had. He said his electrician would be in the next day — Friday — and they’d go over them. I told him that I’d planned to arrive the following week, on Tuesday or Wednesday. I told him I needed the boat hauled out before Friday when I had to leave.

And that’s when the trouble began.

“Well, you know it’s our busy season now,” John told me. “Summer’s coming and everyone wants their boat back in the water. And we probably don’t have room to put yours up on the hard now anyway. So we can put you in a covered slip and get you out of the water when we have an opening in the lift schedule and a place to put you. But I can’t guarantee that it’ll be before Friday.”

I told him that I needed to see the bottom after it was cleaned.

“Well, I’ll send you pictures,” he said. “And then we can get it painted and get the other stuff done.”

He seemed to think that I was going to approve a bottom painting without actually seeing the boat bottom with my own eyes.

I should add something here. I don’t know what kind of paint the previous owner used on the boat bottom. There are some very good paints out there that can last up to 5 years. The boat bottom looked great when we pulled it out last April and it looked just as good when they put it back in the water in October. There’s probably a 50% chance that it won’t need to be painted at all. Could I trust this guy to give me an accurate evaluation of the boat bottom instead of just painting it and charging me for that work?

As a friend of mine used to say, “I was born at night, but it wasn’t last night.”

I was walking a fine line here and I knew it. I didn’t want to piss him off by being “a pushy woman from New York.” And at that point, he was my only option. So I said, “I really thought we’d be able to get the boat hauled out while I was there. I got in touch with you about dates back in February so you knew I was coming next week. Jason speaks very highly of your organization.”

And then he said, with a little laugh, what I suspect he thought was funny: “Well, we have a lot of people fooled. Our yard has 200 boats belonging to people who use our services.”

“I can see that you’re very busy then,” I said, not knowing what else to say.

“Why don’t you call me when you know exactly what date you’ll arrive?” he suggested. “I’ll see what we can do. But at this point, I can’t guarantee the boat will be hauled before you leave.”

We ended the conversation there. I put down my phone and started working on Plan B.

Plan B

Map
By the time my plans were set, I’d traveled nearly the entire length of Chesapeake Bay, from the mouth of the Elizabeth River near Hampton and Norfolk, VA to Kent Island near Annapolis, MD. In three days.

I had to go through Deltaville, VA on my way north. My friends Kenny and Rhonda had their boat hauled out at a yard in Deltaville back in October. In fact, I’d been in Deltaville when they were there, staying at a marina nearby. I’d stopped by to visit them. Their enormous Katy Krogan was sitting on blocks in the yard with Kenny bustling around under it to prepare for a bottom painting.

Kenny and Rhonda are full-timers who live on their boat. They spend the winter at a marina they like in Jacksonville — I visited with them there in February — and spend the rest of the year cruising. I met them in autumn 2022 when I started the Loop; they were Looping that year. Last summer, they cruised to Canada and back through the Champlain Canal and down the Atlantic coast and ICW.

They love that boat yard in Deltaville and that’s where they always bring their boat when it needs work. So I texted them and asked them about it. I got the marina name and called on Friday, the day after I spoke to John.

I spoke to a woman named Stephanie who was very helpful but not sure they could meet my time constraints. Maybe on Thursday or Friday, but she wasn’t sure. She’d have to talk to the guy who ran the shop, but he was out at the moment. She’d get back to me.

She didn’t call back that day.

The next day was Saturday. I called in the morning, after 9 AM, and wasn’t surprised that it went to voicemail. Most of these boatyards are closed on weekends. I left a message.

I was in Hampton, VA that day. I had a good weather window the next day, Sunday, to start my trip up Chesapeake Bay. I made reservations at that same Deltaville marina I’d stopped at in October. I arrived midday on Easter Sunday.

I couldn’t do anything, of course. The clock was ticking. By midday Friday, I needed to be in Jason’s truck heading to Texas. That gave me less than 5 days to make arrangements with the yard, get the things I wanted off the boat packed, clean the boat, get it hauled out, get the bottom cleaned, and get a knowledgeable person to look at the bottom paint and condition with me. I was running out of time.

And that’s when I started thinking about Plan C.

Plan C

Plan C was radical. It meant taking my boat all the way up to Kent Island near Annapolis, which is where I’d had it hauled out last April. It was 100 nautical miles from Deltaville. On Chesapeake Bay. Last year, it had taken me three days to get there from Deltaville. Could I do it in just two?

And could they satisfy my time constraints?

At 8 AM on Monday morning, I was on the phone with another Stephanie, this time at Seven Seas Yachting Services. Of course she remembered me. I told her what I had in mind. Could they haul out the boat, wash the bottom, and take a look with me before midday Friday? And, if it needed painting, get that done sometime during April? She looked at her schedule. Yes. I told her I’d get back to her.

I spent an hour thinking about it. I talked to Jason. He said to do whatever I thought worked best. I talked to the guy who ran the marina where I was parked. He seemed to think I should use the local guy.

In the end, it all came down to me.

The easy, lazy way was to make sure the Deltaville yard could handle my time constraints and just stay there. I’d have a few days to prep the boat at a nice marina where I could also do laundry and get miscellaneous chores done. A dog-friendly place where my pups could run around. It was easy. But it was also a much longer drive for Jason and we’d probably have to start our trip to Texas on Friday right from there.

The trip to Kent Island would not be easy. Weather was moving in. It would be iffy for the next two days and then bad on Wednesday. Chesapeake Bay is a large body of water that can get mean. My boat can handle more than I can, which is nice, but I really don’t like long days of cruising with the waves tossing me and my dogs and everything in my cabin around.

But the other benefits of Kent Island were this:

  • I knew the yard and I knew the level of service I could expect. They would treat me like a valued customer. I also really liked their Volvo guy and liked the idea of him doing work on my engine.
  • I was a much shorter drive for Jason (although it was in the opposite direction of Texas). But I knew Jason wanted me to come back to DC with him and it would be possible from Kent Island.
  • I would have a networking opportunity with the folks at Pocket Yacht. I’m hoping to work with them as a licensed boat captain to train new Ranger Tug owners and help them move boats.
  • I would have a networking opportunity, with Jason, to reconnect with Sam, another boat captain I’d met in Belhaven in April 2023. I was hoping Jason could get some boat captain work with him moving larger boats. And I owed Sam and his wife dinner.
  • I would be 2-4 days closer to Baltimore, where I had a potential three day training gig with a new Ranger Tug owner. He was hoping to get training as soon as possible and wasn’t happy about having to wait until I returned to the boat in May.

Another benefit popped up later that day when I realized that the AIS transmit feature of my Garmin Black Box 800 unit was not functioning. I’d had that installed by the Pocket Yacht guys at Kent Island and could probably have them fix it while I was there.

As you might imagine, I decided to go to Kent Island.

Going the Long Distance

I got under way from Deltaville at 9 AM on Monday morning, leaving that nice comfy marina behind. I called Stephanie at Deltaville to tell her I’d made other arrangements right after getting the boat on course. She sounded surprised; maybe she’d forgotten all about me?

I covered about 50 miles before the Bay decided to toss me around a little more than I wanted to be tossed around. The weather also kept me in fog with 1/4 to 1 mile visibility so I had no sight of land for about three hours. Solomons, MD was the only real option for relief, so I ducked in there and spent the night at a marina.

I emailed John to tell him I’d made other arrangements and would not be bringing my boat after all. I told him it was important for me to see the bottom of the boat before I approved any work on it. I also told him that his comment about having lots of people fooled did not instill confidence about his organization in a new customer. He sent me a rather haughty reply that I deleted. I was done with him.

I got under way again at about 7 AM today. I’m not even sure the sun was up. It was totally overcast with enough of a breeze to keep the Bay choppy and the fog off the water for most of the trip. I stopped for fuel and a pump out at Knapps Narrows, which required me to navigate two narrow, shallow channels, get through a drawbridge, and dock with (instead of against) a current. Wind-driven waves made the last 15 miles to Kent Island pretty rough — rough enough that I had to zigzag into the channel to Crab Alley just to keep the 2-foot waves off my beam.

At Kent Island

It was about 11:30 AM when I was safely and securely tied up at the dock.

I went in to talk to Stephanie, who looked genuinely glad to see me. “Did you want to be hauled out today?” she asked, looking uncertain.

“I need a day to prep and pack the boat,” I told her. “Thursday would be my perfect world date.

She looked at her schedule. “Thursday would be perfect for us, too,” she told me. “We’re putting some boats in the water that morning so we can haul you out in the afternoon. And then there would be room to get your boat into the yard.”

It was exactly what I wanted.

After spending the past week stressing over my haul out plans and traveling in sometimes rough conditions, I could finally relax. I was in good hands.

Doing the Math on Art Shows

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I compare art show venues to see which ones really do give me the best bang for the buck.

I’ve got a sort of running debate with a friend of mine about art show fees and which methodologies are best for artists.

Fee Considerations

Clearly, in a beautiful, perfect, artist-friendly world, show fees would be low and shows would be full of art lovers with deep pockets and plenty of empty wall space or jewelry/pottery/other craft needs.

But that’s not the way it is. Show runners want to make money far beyond the cost of running their venue and the artists are the draw. They set their fees based on what they think artists can afford to pay, with the goal of filling every available spot.


Here’s my jewelry sales booth as it appeared at Leavenworth Village Art in the Park on May 19. I’m trying to display my work as serious and elegant; most folks seem to think I’ve done it.

Artists, on the other side of the transaction, have to consider fees when they decide which shows to apply for. The higher the fees, the more work needs to be sold. Is it possible to sell enough work at the artist’s price points to cover show fees? And what about other expenses, such as the cost of getting to and from a show, lodging, parking, and who knows what else?

In general, better shows — ones with good track records for attracting lots of shoppers and scoring high on artist satisfaction — command higher fees. That can also be said for shows that can attract shoppers with deeper pockets or ones where the quality level of the artist work meets a higher than average standard. In both cases, the potential to sell work at higher prices might make it easier to cover fees.

But in nearly all cases, it’s a gamble. And in the short time I’ve been doing art shows, I’ve seen that firsthand.

Two Fee Methodologies

There are several fees involved with doing art shows and it’s worthwhile to take a look at each one.

  • Application Fee. This is usually a small amount of money — under $50 but usually closer to $10 or $20 — that must accompany an artist’s application to participate in a show. It is non-refundable and is apparently used to cover administrative costs.
  • Jury Fee. This is also usually a small amount of money — again, under $50 — that’s paid to judge an artist’s work before acceptance. Artists are normally required to submit photos of their work and their booth and may also sometimes be required to submit one or more photos showing them actually making the work to prove that they make it themselves. This is also non-refundable. Some shows will charge just a jury fee, if the show is juried, and not an additional application fee.
  • Booth Fee. The booth fee is usually the expensive part of doing a show. Fees can range from $20 for a Farmer’s Market table to well over $1000 for a spot in an indoor venue showcasing fine art in a major city. Just about every show is going to charge a fee for your space, based in part on the size of the booth and its position. A 10×20 foot space that’s open on two or more sides — like in a corner — would usually cost significantly more than a 10×10 space in line with other artists.
  • Commission Percentage. In addition to the booth fee, some venues charge a commission based on artist sales. They could process the sales of all artists centrally or provide special sales slips for artists to fill out to record each sale or use the honor system for artists to report sales. Commission percentages vary and are usually higher at venues with lower booth fees.
  • Other Fees. In addition to all this, some venues charge extra for power, draperies, tables, lighting, local business licenses, and insurance.

I’ll give you two examples.

Wenatchee Apple Blossom Festival Arts and Crafts Show, a three-day show where I’ve sold my work twice in the past four years, has the following fees:

  • Application/Jury Fee: $30
  • Local Temporary Business License: $25
  • Insurance Fee*: $85
  • Booth Fee: $299

Leavenworth Village Art in the Park, a three- to four-day show where I sell my work on about five weekends per year in the spring and late summer, has the following fees:

  • One-time application/jury fee for season: $15
  • Per weekend Security Fee: $30
  • Booth Fee: $0
  • Commission Percentage: 21%

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* You can usually skip the insurance fee charged at an event by carrying your own insurance, which I do. It costs $375/year and covers all of my events.

The Debate

So the main part of the debate is this: which fee structure is best for artists? Flat fees or commission based fees?

First I need to mention one other thing: I’ve seen shows that have a relatively high booth fee — maybe $500 — plus a commission percentage of 20% or more. (I’m looking at you, Sacramento.) I avoid shows like that because I honestly don’t see how I can make any money. I also think those show runners are being unreasonably greedy and I don’t want to support them in any way.


Oh, this Seattle show! Although I paid the same as the artists in the main room with 10×10 booths, I was given a 10×7 space in a side room with six other unfortunate artists. The window behind my booth was old and drafty; on those November days, it was about 50°F in my chair. I didn’t lose money on this show, but sales were disappointing. I think I would have kicked butt in the other room, but who knows?

That said, the answer to the question of which is better really depends on the show. If it’s a great show and you have lots of sales, it’s better to avoid paying a commission on sales. After all, the more you sell, the more you pay.

But, at the same time, if the show is crappy and sales are low, commission based fees are better because you’ll pay less.

Let’s look at some hypothetical numbers, comparing the Apple Blossom show to the Leavenworth show. For the sake of argument, we’ll say the artist does Leavenworth just once so that one-time application fee doesn’t need to be split among multiple shows.

ItemApple BlossomLeavenworth
Gross Sales$3,000$3,000
Fees:  
  Application Fee$30$15
  Business License Fee250
  Insurance Fee850
  Security Fee030
  Booth Fee2990
  Commission0630
Total Fees$439$675
Net Sales*$2,561$2,325
Sales Cost Percent (Net÷Gross)14.6%22.5%

So in this case, the fixed fee event would be a better deal for the artist, allowing her to take home more money.

But what if the outdoor event was on a really crappy weather weekend? Cold and rainy and folks just didn’t want to come out? Say the artist sales that weekend were a disappointing $1,000. The story changes quite dramatically:

ItemApple BlossomLeavenworth
Gross Sales$1,000$1,000
Fees:  
  Application Fee$30$15
  Business License Fee250
  Insurance Fee850
  Security Fee030
  Booth Fee2990
  Commission0210
Total Fees$439$255
Net Sales*$561$745
Sales Cost Percent (Net÷Gross)43.9%25.5%

Totally different picture, no? Basically, the worse the show is for you, the less you pay in fees if your main fee is based on a commission.

This really comes into play when you have a totally crappy show, like the one I did in Spokane last November. Billed as a Holiday Arts and Crafts show where the show runners actually charged shoppers a fee to get in, most shoppers seemed more interested in buying $13 caramel apples than any sort of quality artist work. Between the show fees of $340 and the cost of making the 3-hour trip (each way) to Spokane, I wound up losing money on the show. (It would have been worse if I’d had to stay in a hotel, but I stayed in my truck camper on the fairgrounds and no one ever collected a fee.) Needless to say, I won’t be doing that show again.

But then again, if you have a great show that charges a commission percentage, it really costs you.

And that’s where the debate stands.

—
*Net Sales does not include other expenses of attending a show, such as transportation, lodging, parking, credit card fees, etc. All those do need to be calculated by the artist to come up with a total cost for the show when evaluating it.

What’s the answer?


Sunday mornings are always slow in Leavenworth, no matter how beautiful the weather is.

We don’t know how a show is going to be before we attend so it’s impossible to determine which will work out better in advance. Of course, prior attendance at a show can give you an idea of how it might work out. But even that isn’t guaranteed. I did well in Spokane in 2021 so I assumed I’d do just as well in 2022. I didn’t. Not even close. And the weather is always a factor, especially at outdoor shows.

I’ve done three shows in Leavenworth this spring and the first two were disappointing while the last one was really good. I paid relatively low fees for the first two but was hammered at the third. Still, my cost percentage remained between 22% and 26%. The percentage I take home is pretty solid. There’s some reassurance in that. It’s pretty much impossible to lose money at a percentage-based show. Low sales, low fees.

So there is no answer. It all depends.

And that’s part of what artists deal with when they try to sell their work at shows.

The other part? Setting up and tearing down a booth. Buying and maintaining display equipment. Getting to and from shows. Parking. Sitting in a booth all day, possibly leaving work unattended during trips to the restroom. Dealing with often thoughtless shoppers who make audible comments to friends about how easy it is to make this or how overpriced that is. Seeing your work handled by people who then drop it back down to bang against the metal display. Watching kids with ice cream on their hands touching everything. Keeping an eye out for dogs lifting their legs on table draperies and tent sides.

But let’s not forget the good stuff, too. Being told your work is beautiful. Being complemented on your unique designs. Having a customer buy an expensive piece that took you hours to make and telling you how much they love it.

All that should figure into the costs and benefits of being an artist at an art show, too, no?

First Art Show of the Season

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Surprisingly successful.

This past weekend was my first art show of the season. It’s at a venue which is usually good for me, but this time, it was surprisingly good. I thought I’d blog a bit about it.

But before I go into a report of this past weekend’s art show, let me begin by explaining how I sell my work. (You know me; there’s always a back story.)

My sales channels

I sell most of the jewelry I make in three different channels:

  • My Art Show Booth
    My art show booth as it appeared this past weekend in Leavenworth. I was fortunate to have an end spot and be open on three sides.

    Art Shows. This accounts for far more than half of my sales, but it’s the hardest work I do. I (normally) pay a free up front for booth space and then, on the day of the show, arrive early with a 10×10 foot tent, tables, table covers, signage, and merchandise displays. I set everything up — it takes roughly 90 minutes — placing my work as artistically and practically as I can. Then I sit in the booth all day — sometimes for as many as five days in a row — to sell what I’ve brought, make more inventory (when possible), and take/make orders for custom items. Then, at the end of the show, I pack everything back up. The benefit: I (normally) get to keep 100% of the selling price for each item.

  • Wholesale and Consignment Sales. This accounts for maybe 15% of my sales and involves a lot less work — but at a cost. My wholesale price is 50% off the retail price; consignment fees are typically 35% to 40%. Even though it costs more, I prefer wholesale sales — once an item is sold, I can pretty much cross it off my inventory and forget about it. (The exception is the trade-in policy I offer for my wholesale clients; if something doesn’t sell in their shop in 6 to 18 months, I allow them to trade it in for another item.) Consignment is a royal pain in the ass. Not only am I letting a consignment shop hold onto my inventory (so I can’t sell it myself), but I need to keep track of all that stuff. And if an item is lost through theft at their shop, I’m pretty much screwed. Or if they go out of business while they have my stock, I have to worry about getting it back. Needless to say, I really don’t do much on consignment. What’s nice about these channels, however, is that they do often lead to a regular stream of sales with monthly income. So there’s that.
  • My Online Store. This accounts for another 10% of my sales. Right now, I’m using Etsy, but I hope to switch to a more professional solution soon. Etsy takes a small cut of each sale — it’s less than 10% (unless the sale is related to a special ad they’ve placed) — so it isn’t the cost that bothers me. It’s being in an online retail space with people selling cheap, imported junk that they’re trying to pass off as their own work. The only thing that keeps me with Etsy is their integrated shipping feature, which not only makes it easy to ship to addresses all over the world, but gives me a discount on USPS postage costs.

The rest of my sales are face-to-face to friends and acquaintances. That’s a tiny percentage of the total.

This Weekend’s Show

This past weekend I was at Leavenworth Art in the Park. This is a weekly art show in the center of town that has been fine-tuned over the past year for COVID. Right now, it’s operating with only 15 artist vendors in widely spaced outdoor booths; when restrictions ease a bit more, I suspect it’ll go back to its previous capacity which was about 20.

Art in the Park
With spacing for COVID, booths are able to be open on all sides.

Leavenworth, Washington, is a small town in the foothills to the Cascade Mountains. It’s a gorgeous location, nestled near mountains that remain snow-capped for much of the year. Its Bavarian Theme is what brings tourists in all summer long. The town also has (or had before COVID) lots of festivals, including a three week long Oktoberfest and big Christmas celebrations. The area has tons of hiking, white water rafting, camping, and other outdoor activities. It’s a nice place to visit, although admittedly a bit too touristy in town for my taste.

Leavenworth, WA
Downtown Leavenworth, WA was completely redone years ago to require Bavarian style architecture. One of the nice things about COVID — there are silver linings if you look for them — is that it got the town to close down the main street to vehicle traffic to make room for outdoor dining.

Elk horns
One of the draws to Leavenworth is entertainment, like this elk horn group. I shot this photo from my booth; it was very close to where the entertainment was.

I started showing/selling my work at Art in the Park in 2019. I attend on a limited basis because my primary work, which is cherry drying with my helicopter, requires me to be close to the helicopter in the Wenatchee area from roughly June 1 to August 15 every summer.

In a way, my limited time there is a good thing. Leavenworth is 50 miles from my home and the days there are long: 9 AM to 6 PM. Add that to my one hour (each way) commute and I’m looking at 11 hours. Spring and early autumn can be cold, summer can be hot. Parking is a pain in the ass. There are long lines at restaurants and, often, for the restrooms.

The reward of being there, however, is great sales. Folks who come to Leavenworth come to be entertained and to spend money. They shop in town and at the Art Show. They eat and drink in countless restaurants and bars. They stay in local hotels. They are in money-spending mode. And because most of them come from the Seattle side of the mountains, they have a bit more disposable income than the local folks I used to sell to at smaller venues in downtown Wenatchee. A pendant priced $59 isn’t a big expenditure for these folks, so I can actually sell and make money on my work.

This weekend was a great example. Although it was the second weekend of the show, it was my first weekend attending. I set up on Friday morning and began selling almost immediately. By 6 PM, I’d sold more than I had in an entire weekend on my last show. I did even better on Saturday and almost as well on Sunday.

Overall, it was the best weekend I’d ever had at any show anywhere.

Pendant
Here’s one of the pendants I made while I was sitting in my booth on Sunday morning. I made a total of six pendants that day.

It was so good that I spent most of Saturday and Sunday making more inventory. My wire work pendants continue to sell well in Leavenworth and I made five custom pendants for customers while I was there. I also made a bracelet and three beaded necklaces. This week I’ll be making a lot of earrings in my shop.

Now although the booth fee at Art at the Park is remarkably low, the non-profit organization that runs it does take a cut of sales: 21%. So I don’t get all of the money I brought in. But 21% is a lot less than the 35% or 40% I’m paying two galleries to show and sell my work. And I sold a lot more this past weekend than I’ve sold in my three year relationship with both galleries combined. So I’m definitely not complaining.

I’m doing two more weekends at Leavenworth this month. Then I’m stuck in Wenatchee for most of the summer. I applied to a show in Wenatchee in June and another show in Chelan in July. (I had to find a booth sitter for the July show in case rain is possible and I need to stay home.) I’m scheduled to go back to Leavenworth in August and September, but I may need to cancel that because of a conflict with another opportunity that I’m not quite ready to discuss here yet.

And if you’re a Leavenworth tourist reading this, I sure hope you’ll stop by Art in the Park while you’re in town. It’s open on Fridays, Saturdays, and Sundays from about 9 AM to 6 PM (or 5 PM on Sundays). I believe it’s also open on Thursdays between Memorial Day and Labor Day. Support local artists and makers!