The Brutal Truth

As you may or may not have been able to tell, I'm intending to make some sort of business out of the books I make and since I just started doing this, I have a very steep learning curve: not just in making the books themselves, but also in selling them. The model I've worked out in my head is a two-tier one: one-of-a-kind or small edition high-end artist's books for galleries, museums, libraries, and collectors, and  . . . other stuff, like batches of ornament books, perfect bound editions of the text in the artist books, broadsheets (eventually, when I get back into letterpress); some blank journals. That kind of stuff

Do I have retail experience? No, not a lick. I do have about three years of marketing experience, so I understand intellectually how it works. But I don't have that gift of gab that good salesmen have (my friend Paul?  He could make you want to buy anything, the bastard.). And I'm a little turned off myself by salesmen. Plus I'm actually kinda shy. So I'm already fighting an uphill battle. Not to mention that I'm learning the whole bookbinding thing yet, too. What I don't know yet fills volumes, I'm sure, but I'm a great believer in learning by doing, and I have a true talent for teaching myself how to do things. Every program I've ever worked on with computers (hell, running a computer itself)—except Photoshop—I taught myself, from word processing programs to PageMaker, Quark, and InDesign. When it came time to build a website, I taught myself HTML. Flash is next. That ability, I figure, will give me something of a leg up, coupled with a few carefully chosen classes.

But it's so much easier to learn from somebody else's experience. I've always preferred to learn from other people's mistakes, rather than my own, when starting something about which I know nothing. Especially in activities I don't have a natural aptitude for. Art Biz Blog has been really invaluable in this way. In that vein, I was delighted to run across a new blog, called "View From the Attic: Under the Eves with Paper, Glue and Paint." Pat in Buffalo had me hooked at the first line of her second entry:

"They're lucky, they don't have to work" (Visitor at Allentown Art Festival regarding the artists.)

My mother painted china, and we were both frequenters of craft and art fairs on the buying side. I can't tell you how many times we heard lines similar to that from other idiots, and how mad it made both of us. That and the usual gripe about the prices. Well-done art and crafts looks effortless and easy, like you could do it yourself at home. Guess what? You probably can't. More likely, even if you could, you won't, because it's amazingly time-consuming, and it takes thought and imagination and a modicum of talent. As an example, I spent most of yesterday just cutting paper for the "practice" journals I'm making. I'll spend most of today making covers. Then most of another day punching holes and sewing. That's for eight journals, maybe one or two of which will be good enough to sell. Not griping, just explaining.

Already I've learned something from her: don't just make a prototype to send off to juried craft shows; make the whole edition. Pat sez: " I made prototypes of a book I thought I could make for real and took nice pictures and actually got into 2 shows. We laugh about it now. We did then, too, but with a hint of hysteria." Good for a neophyte to know. Especially since I've been thinking of doing exactly this thing. Okay, juried shows and exhibits next year, when I already have stock. Check.

"View From the Attic," after only two entries, has a brutal honesty about the work (and you better believe it is work) of running an art or craft business, from a book artist's perspective. I'm sure it's just the reality check I need.