It’s Not Personal, It’s Proprietary

In my “day job” as a technical editor, I deal with lots and lots of information, much of it proprietary to the company, and all of it sensitive to the business at hand.

Our security manager constantly preaches “loose lips sink ships,” and non-disclosure agreements are standard practice, not only within the company, but also with partners and even customers. Email traffic is monitored, and social networking sites are banned from company computers. In short, the company goes to great lengths to ensure its “secrets” don’t end up in the hands of the competition. 

How does this apply to online selling? I’m glad you asked.

Three years ago, I spent an afternoon conversing via email with a woman who sold on Amazon.  Much to my dismay, I can’t remember who she was, but she was very open about the business, where to sell, where to buy inventory, how much to pay for inventory, etc.  I was very appreciative, and thanked her profusely.  I listed and sold my first book soon after that, and the rest, as they say, is history.

Later, I questioned a fellow seller at a local thrift store, without telling him that I also was a seller, about his business, where he sold, what he sold, etc. I started scouting heavily after than, and I’ve never seen him again. I almost felt guilty for the minor deception … almost.   After all, he was the one giving up information about his business.

While scouting for books using my PDA and scanner, I am frequently asked what I am doing.  This creates a dilemma for me.  I assume most people who ask are genuinely intrigued by the sight of me standing there scanning book after book. However, I know that a small percentage of the people, if I were to tell the truth about what I was doing, could/would take the information, and new competitors could/would be born.

So, I tell a small fib.  I tell them that I am checking my database to see if I want the book. If pressed for more information, I tell them that I am a collector, and I have so many books that I need my database to make sure that I don’t buy a duplicate copy.

Again, I almost feel guilty about telling the small fib. However, I have to remember that the information they are asking for could have a direct bearing on my ability to provide for my family in the future.

So, if you have to tell a little white lie about your activities, remember, it’s not personal, it’s proprietary.

Monday Musings

I’ve been considered many things in my admittedly short selling career … picker, dealer, etc.  But this weekend was the first time I’ve ever been considered a cheat and/or thief.

The scene of the alleged crime was a living estate sale that ran both Friday and Saturday.  My wife attended the sale on Friday while I was at work, and told me that we should go on Saturday as well since they were going to mark down the prices.  With several sales under our belts on Saturday, we decided to make it our last stop before heading home with our newfound treasure.

The sale in question had advertised a lot of stuff, but what caught my eye was that it was going to feature a Vic 20, Commodore 64, and Commodore 128, all early computers that I coveted while in my teens.  While I eventually purchased the Vic 20 way back when, I still lusted after its higher priced cousins.

My wife said she didn’t see the computers during her visit on Friday, so I assumed that they were some of the first things to be sold.  Walking through the house, I didn’t see the computers, but did find the manuals … several of them, in fact, in boxes in the garage.  I spent some time going the boxes, and picking out some books.  A gentleman working the sale noticed what I was doing, and wanted to know if I was interested in the computer that went with the books.

I hadn’t noticed it, but on a shelf behind him was the Commodore 128 in original box.  It had a price tag of $100. There also were several Commodore disc drives, and a box full of software.

Cha ching, so to speak.

I asked how much for the computer and the Commodore books.  He went inside and asked the lady running the cashbox.  He came back out and said $55.  I said, “sold,” and we started boxing up the computer, disc drives, software, and the books, and taking it to my car.

Once accomplished, I went inside to pay.   I told the lady that I was the one buying the computer, and she said that would be $100 plus tax.

Wait a minute, I said.  Her worker quoted me $55.  She then said the $100 was for all three computers (a deal, but there was only one computer).  I told her as much, but she said she had inventoried everything that morning, and that while she would honor the price that her worker quoted me, she would have to “eat” the other $45 if I didn’t pay for all the computers.

Now, of course, I wasn’t going to let this woman bully me into paying more than what was quoted, but she seemed dead set that I was trying to steal the other two computers.  I again tried to explain it to her, even summoning her worker, who verified that there was only one computer.  She still wasn’t convinced, and decided that the conversation was over.  She took my $55, and refused to talk any more about it, giving me the “evil” eye as I walked out.

I left the sale fuming, with the wife trying to calm me down. 

After thinking about it for a day or so now, though, I realized why I had become so mad.  I work hard, negotiate fairly, play by the rules, and am considerate of all the yard/garage/estate sellers that I meet on Saturday mornings. I pay appropriately, never saddling sellers with big bills, and I always buy the cookies or lemonade that their children sell. In short, I respect the process.

However, I took the altercation personally, instead of professionally, a lesson I won’t soon forget.   Once I realized that kernel of truth, my day got a little better.

Diligence (Sell Hard or Go Home)

I recently joined a gym for the first time in my mostly flabby 48 years.  Needless to say, it was a shock to my system, but I was determined to become a lean, mean, selling machine.  Walking on the treadmill gave me a lot of time to think, and as my mind wandered, I began to think how going to the gym is a lot like selling online.

To achieve their sculpted physiques, the “hard bodies” in the gym set a training schedule, honed their routines, watched their diet, and, most of all, worked hard. Once a week in aerobics class obviously wasn’t going to cut it. They had to be diligent about their workouts. As the gym owner’s T-shirt says, “Train Hard or Go Home.”

The same philosophy can be applied to online selling, and, more importantly, inventory scouting.  We all have our sources, but how often do you actually check them. Once a week? Once a month? When you have the time? Do you go to yard sales on Saturdays?  Do you visit nearby communities to scope out new sources?

Do you treat online selling as a business? Do you have business cards? Do you devote a set amount of time each day to your business? Do you keep good records? Do you set goals?

Like bodybuilding, to be truly successful at online selling, you have to view your activity as a serious endeavor, and you have to treat it the same way. A lackadaisical approach may garner you limited success, and a few sales, but in the long run, a diligent and systematic approach will ensure your success.

Ellen DeGeneres once said that “I really don’t think I need buns of steel. I’d be happy with buns of cinnamon.”

So, when it comes to online sales, do you want steel buns or cinnamon buns?

How Can You Work in a Bookstore and Not Read Any of the Books?

I used to love to read. As a child, I almost lived in the library, reading volumes and volumes of not-so-fine literature, including Alfred Hitchcock and the Three Investigators (my favorite), and every book about UFOs that I could find.  As I grew older, I graduated to Stephen King and Dean Koontz novels, and my college buddy introduced to me to the Shannara series by Terry Brooks.

I always thought how fun it would be to work in a bookstore, to be surrounded by all those books, and to be able to read anything and everything.

Then, I graduated with a degree in journalism, and took a job as an editor at a small newspaper, a job that entailed reading/editing newspaper articles for eight hours per day from early afternoon to late evening.  Needless to say, by the time my shift was over, my eyes were pretty much fried, and I really didn’t feel like reading anything more. 

Upon leaving the newspaper, I took a job as a technical editor for an engineering firm, again reading for eight hours a day. I went from reading current events to reading engineering reports.  The job paid more, but reading the reports was about as exciting as watching paint dry, and again my eyes were pretty much fried by the end of the day.

Needless to say reading for pleasure wasn’t a very high priority.

Now, flash forward about 20 years, and I work in a bookstore. OK, so it’s an online bookstore, but I am surrounded by books, books, and more books. And I haven’t read any of them.

I really hadn’t thought about the irony of the situation until I culled some books, CDs, and VHS tapes, and brought them into the engineering firm to give away.  As coworkers sorted through the box, they occasionally would ask me my opinion of a certain tome.  I sheepishly had to tell them that I had not read it.  Others would question my viewing habits while looking at some of the more controversial videotapes.  I again had to admit to not watching them.  And, no, I hadn’t listened to any of the CDs in the box, either.

After all was said and done, and the books and stuff mostly given away, I looked back and realized that I was just a little embarrassed. I had always considered myself a student of the media, and here I was surrounded by all kinds of media, and I wasn’t taking advantage of the vast amount knowledge right under my nose. After all, I had access to more than 3500 titles; surely, there was something that I wanted to read, watch, or listen to.

So, I picked out a book one evening, and was determined to read it cover to cover. I was actually pleased with myself for doing so. It seemed like a step in the right direction toward being a more well-rounded bookseller who could offer up opinions about the titles in his inventory.

It sold to a customer in California during the night.

Monday Musings

It was a slow weekend.  Rain and the threat of severe weather kept me in on Saturday morning, even though there apparently were a couple of yard sales that said “rain or shine.”  I always regret not going to sales because of potential lost opportunities, but I must admit that I did enjoy sleeping later than usual.

When I finally dragged myself out of bed, I decided to put the time to good use by spending the day listing some of my backlog.  I made some good headway, including listing two Dungeons & Dragons sets,.  This one sold almost immediately, which made me wonder if I should have set my price higher.

I also fielded a couple of "best offers" for a lot of Nintendo games.  There are 29 games, some worth at least $15, and I have it priced at $139 or "Best Offer."   Unfortunately, the "best offers" were in the $40 range. I don't think so.

In addition, I listed several Care Bears that had been just sitting around.  My favorite listing, though, is my first edition Harry Potter book that was published in England.  It's not worth a whole lot, but it's cool.

On Sunday, I decided to spend a little time on Amazon listings.  Amazon has been my bread and butter for a while, but I had been neglecting it in favor of getting my eBay store up and running properly.  So, I listed and listed, and got two boxes (one of books, the other of toys) ready to send to Amazon's FBA program.

I also managed to sneak to Wal-Mart to scout their toy clearance.  Not much there for resellers, unfortunately.  Margins were still too slim to make any money.

I finished my weekend on Sunday night by watching the ballgame, and packing everything that had sold.

All in all, it was a decent two days.  I hope the weather is better, and the sales more plentiful next weekend, though.