I write on this blog almost everyday, but it is more of a diary than an interactive thing. Even though I don't think I'm saying too many disgraceful things in my private diary, I still don't feel comfortable posting it. 

I'll try harder to come up with some interesting subjects more often, if anyone is still coming here to check. I guess I just don't feel like I need to intrude myself upon the world. I have plenty of opinions, and I think I even have some business and writing insights, but I've also said most of them...more than once. 

Anyway, just putting this out there until I can think of something more substantial to say.  

Store harvesting.

Listening to podcasts about Ukraine and they were talking about how, with infrastructure starting to fail, the Russians have been forced to cannibalize non-functioning infrastructure to keep the rest of the system working. They called it "parts harvesting." Obviously, this is self-defeating. Less functioning units means less money to get more functioning units.

There is a parallel in business that I've seen over and over again. A store opens with the best inventory they can get. They start selling it. They don't replace it right away because they need the gross profit to pay bills. With less product, sales start dropping, so the store starts to sell remaining inventory in short-term "SALES!" Meaning they have even less product. And down the spiral they go. 

In my own experience it took years of struggle to get to the point where the inventory turnover paid for itself. I had to keep reinvesting in product which left little money for things like take-home"profit." (Tax wise, higher inventory is counted as profit, so double whammy--you pay tax on unsold product.)

The irony is, the capital investment is so large over time, that anyone with that kind of capital in the first place could probably make more money simply investing it in the stock market or bonds. 

Instead, after burning inventory, you are forced to borrow more money. Unless you've learned your lesson, the profits will instead go toward debt. You're paying out, instead of earning in. Borrowing money is also self-defeating if you aren't operationally producing profit.  

But you don't know that going in. 

The only thing you can do without capital is to keep pushing inventory a little higher over what you're comfortable doing and just squeaking by year after year until...overnight success!...you have enough in stock to actually pay for more store! pay your bills! and... wonder of wonders...earn a real profit! 

Most things sell out...eventually.

It's interesting when Dylan reports on a day at the store. He'll give a subjective feeling about how busy it was which often doesn't match the actual sales. But in some ways, that subjective feeling may actually be more accurate as to the health of your business. You can feel when people are interested, even if they aren't spending money. It's much harder to know if people are losing interest but they are still spending money. 

If that makes any sense. You probably have to be a store keeper to understand. I do remember early on reading that the customer count was a better measure of how a store is doing than the actual amount of money taken in.

Imagine, if you will, that you are a small store with a few customers that you cater to and who, when they come in, spend a lot of money. But you're using an inordinate amount of time, energy, and effort to satisfy them, including discounts. Are you a healthy store?

I'd say you are on dangerous ground. Whereas, getting a wide variety of people in who seem interested in your business even if they don't actually spend much, is maybe a better sign that you're healthy or in a position to get healthy.

I'd rather have a hundred people spending $10, than ten people spending $100 dollars, but the latter is very seductive until two or three of them quit, while the first store can lose ten or fifteen people and still have better sales. Not to mention attracting other customers and the word of mouth that is engendered. 

I always had a sense of whether we were moving forward or falling back. Sometimes I'd make changes that I instinctively knew were working even when sales didn't at first reflect it. And I could usually tell when a fad was starting to cool (I learned the hard way to cut orders sooner rather than later.)  

Pokemon is currently a good example of that. Sales totals are still pretty good, but I get the feeling that it's fewer people buying more and older people instead of kids and young families. That it is older people makes me feel like they are motivated by FOMO. 

When I check online, sales have moderated, but not by much. So there isn't much incentive--yet--to lower prices.

The difference between this time and the days when fads ruled the market is that I'm only spending what I actually have in hand instead of ordering stuff in advance and hoping it pans out. The second difference is that I'm pretty secure that Magic and Pokemon will continue, even if it slows down, which means everything will sell eventually. 

Maybe not when I'm in charge, but everything will inevitably sell out given enough time.  

Islands of neatness.

 

I keep having anxiety dreams about the store ever since I decided to reorganize it yet again.

It's always a situation where I find that I'm involved in an offshoot of the store that I don't remember. Last night it was the Book Barn only it was called Frankenstein Books. 

Somehow I'm a minor partner, supplying used books. But the books look like crap, so I want to reorganize them. By doing so, I start straightening up the other books and the more I do that the smaller the selection looks, because I'm shedding dead product and consolidating and straightening viable product and that means they become little islands of neatness in the midst of emptiness. 

I'm making the situation worse.

I think that's the anxiety I'm feeling about the changes I'm making. I'm taking a highly functioning store and messing with it. Adding more capacity may be the wrong move. I guess I'll go ahead and take the new fixtures in and see how they work, but be willing to see that it's not working and remove them if needed. Ask Dylan and Sabrina if they work and take their advice.  

Even though this is my last year, which already seems to be accelerating, I can't seem to stop doing what I've always done. Improve the store every chance I get, even if it costs me time, energy, and money.  

Discount vs everything else.

I was taking a break from ordering from publishers, except for Penguin Random House. Despite the extra 10% to 15% discount I would get. 

During the summer and Christmas, I even avoided buying the PRH unless Ingram didn't have a book in stock.

The results? Wildly successful summer and Christmas, far beyond what I would have ever thought possible. 

I think it's been proven that timeliness and reliability and ease of use far outweigh the extra discount. I've started ordering books almost every day from Ingram so that I'm rarely out of a good-selling title.  

Yes, I could probably order large orders from publishers of books that I know will sell forever, but it's just too annoying not to know what the publishers have in stock, how long it will take to show up, and trying to decipher their billing. 

So I'm done. I'll spend the rest of my career ordering mostly from Ingram, a one or two day shipment away.  

My favorite part of owning my own store.

The two new bookshelves didn't fit where I intended. So I put one of them somewhere else in a less than ideal location and brought the other home.

Then I measured again, searched the internet, and found two fixtures that I think will work better. I hope. 

The fixture I put in the "less than ideal spot" will also be replaced by a better fixture. 

Meanwhile, two/thirds of the poplar planks I purchased have found a place in the store, so I don't feel like I wasted my money. 

All this moving around has thrown the store into a bit of chaos, which is why it is being done now in January and February, historically two of our slowest months. Should all be done by March, after which there'll be some finessing around.  

All this rearranging has added up to a lot more linear feet of shelving than I originally expected. I thought at most I'd get about 20 feet, but in the end I ended up with about twice that much, though some of it is so high up the wall that it can only display a few art books face out. Still, better than before.

For some reason, I get great enjoyment out of doing this kind of thing. It's always been my favorite part of owning a store.  

The magic of ergonomics.

I keep thinking that I've used up every inch in the store. And I do mean inch. 

Then I get a brainstorm. Often it's consolidating and moving stuff around, but every once in a while I actually figure out how to put a new shelf or a new bookcase in. It's very labor intensive because the store is packed and it requires a lot of lifting.

I bought two new fixtures for the front of the store, but after I got them in I realized that I hadn't measured right. I thought since they were thin bookshelves they'd fit, but they are 15" wide instead of the 12" I was expecting. You wouldn't think 3" would make a difference, but it makes all the difference. The shelves also weren't adjustable, which also made them less than ideal.

So I basically blew $200 buying the wrong thing. I'm going in early today to see if I can squeeze them in or not. If not, I've already researched a couple of bookcases that would probably do the job better. 

In order to fit all the books I'm getting into the store, I'm moving farther up the wall. It's not ideal, but there is nothing else I can think to do. Any book that is at eyesight or below (except perhaps a bottom shelf) will sell better than any book above people's heads. 

There was a period of time when I was putting up slatwalls, and I wish now that I'd basically covered the entire store that way. The old-timey brackets just don't have the adaptability that slatwalls have.  

But it's always been that way. Leftover fixtures, used fixtures, weird sized fixtures. Whatever I can squeeze in. Ironically, when I consolidate and move stuff and even add stuff, it looks like I've cleared away space. That's the magic of ergonomics. Making more look like less. (Instead of the way I spent the first half of my career---making less look like more...)