As I'm sure is typical of anyone who starts their own little shop to sell the things they make, I'm finally finding myself questioning just about every decision I make. I started Unusual Ewe with a very naive and basic plan. "I like yarn. I like to make yarn. Other people like yarn too. Other people will PAY for handmade yarns." But not wanting to jump in with both feet on account of my track record with selling crafts (2009 in review: January rug maker, February seamstress, March farmer, April painter, May weaver, June florist. July cook, August jeweler, September carpenter, October quilter, November tinker, December rug maker.) I told myself that in 6 months I would see if I still felt that being a yarn maker was a viable career choice for myself. In one week I will have officially been selling my handmade yarns for 6 months.
I won't lie and say it has been all good or bad. Over 6 months I have greatly improved my yarn making skills. I can now make a more quality product, with less material cost, and in less time. All very valuable improvements for anyone wanting to sell their work, and I believe that if I really took a hard look at my schedule I could streamline things even more by my 1 year anniversary. However, I still feel that no matter how much I improve my products, I am a total flop as an online seller. I can make yarn all day, love to go out and take pictures of it, and on occasion I even sell it right out of the basket when getting pictures or walking down the street spinning off a drop spindle. But when it comes to the listing, re-listing, and forum haunting on Etsy, as well as Facebook, tweeting, blogging, Flickr, Ravelry, and re-inventing my website that everyone insists I should be doing daily, I am flat out overwhelmed.
Now, the easy-fix for this would be to cut down on the online selling and become mainly a booth seller, but then we run into the lack of a vehicle, and even greater lack of shows in my area, so it's obvious this is not a viable option without severe lifestyle changes (buy a car, or move somewhere else.) I do get a portion of business doing small scale demonstrations or in-home shows for people, but I find it is difficult to build a repeat-customer base for this, as well as it being hard to book these without doing all the above mentioned networking that would lead people to know I exist.
Compile this with confusing new tax forms on top of my already puzzling stack of tax and business laws I must follow, and it's enough to make anyone want to hang themself with their own handmade yarn. I have decided that for the shop to remain viable as it is, I will at the very least have to hire a professional accountant to handle all the paperwork that's over my head, and perhaps even hire someone specifically for the task of networking. Considering that my 6 month profit is right at $150 I don't see either of those being actual options, even though they would leave me more time to create products.
And in truth, this all makes me more sad than frustrated. I love what I do, absolutely love it. I love that I have control over very nearly the entire process (don't raise sheep, don't want to) and that if I get burned out on spinning, I can grab some shirts or some fiber and head to the kettles. Or I could get out the scissors and prep some Plarn. Or get out the sacks of scrap fibers and go make some felt. Or grab the basket of recently finished items and head out to the park to get photos. Because there is so much in the way of what I can make, and because I am able to change my day's main tasks on a whim (so long as I'm still making something to sell) this really feels right. I have always been very sensation oriented, so getting to work with different textures, colours, weights, scents, and my imagination each and every day make this the perfect continued day-to-day job for me. No other "great new hobby" I have tried has had such a long and persistent life. After six months I still wake up in the middle of the night, grab a notebook, and write down a new product line, or a new tool to make so my work goes faster, or new labels or packaging.
Soon comes the hard part, for which I'm afraid I may have to call on more practical individuals than myself (namely my husband and mother,) to decide what comes next. Do I just finish up the stock I have and try my hardest to sell it all off and recoup expenses? Can I continue this yarnie career, even step up my game, and if so how? Or is it back to being a creative housewife with a short attention span, and several bags of yarns to find a use for?
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