Selling the Savoy

It never ceases to amaze me how many quirks I have. Just when I think I’m finally beginning to mellow out up pops evidence to the contrary. A few posts ago I told you about the fabulous Savoy Cocktail Book and even provided music  -- Stompin’ At the Savoy by the incomparable Benny Goodman. I totally loved this book, so maybe that explains why I had a conniption when it sold yesterday. The funny part is I forgot the contractor was here because he wasn’t banging on anything at the time, though it could be that I would have done what I did even if he’d been smashing the wall down. Initially, I was excited to see the order pop up on ABE until I realized  that the book had sold to one of the most prestigious dealers in the country. In that moment I completely forgot that I wasn’t in the house alone and screamed “NOOOOOOO!” at the computer. Honestly, you’d have thought an intruder was dragging me out of here by the hair.

Why? I don’t know why. Well, maybe I do, but It’s complicated. First of all, I'm not talking about  the copy I showed you here – it’s the nicer one. Secondly, prices are all over the map for this book ranging from $400-plus to $135 on various sites for the same edition (the first). There was a day when I’d have held out for highest price, but as we all know, today you can sit at the bottom of the list until you’ve prmanently priced yourself right off the planet. After arguing mightily with myself about it I finally decided to go with $200. There was no foxing, but it did show a few small edge chips, fading to the publisher’s name on the spine, and a name at the top of the title page. Still, I had a few misgivings about it , so I also listed it on my secret site where I can usually do better. Surprisingly though,  it generated little initial interest, so I gave up and stuck with the  $200. But here’s the thing – if a private person bought it for $200 I’d have been fine with that price. The problem was that it was a dealer – and not just any dealer – but a DEALER.

Of course, there are two ways you can look at this. You can take umbrage with arbitrage (which I engage in myself on a regular basis so that would be hypocritical), or you can say to yourself, “wow, I just sold this book to a highly knowledgeable and respected dealer.” Sure he’ll sell it for at least twice what he paid me, but it also bears noting that  I got it in one of the recent collections we bought and on a per book basis paid $2 for it, so the mark-up was two hundred percent. WHERE do you get a two hundred per cent mark-up these days? Of course there’s commission to pay but, even so, I did fine. So what’s the problem then? It repeatedly takes me awhile to figure this one out, but it’s truly not about the money. Well, it IS about the money, but not that I felt cheated. See? I told you it was complicated. (NOTE: Saturday Evening Post kindly sent tme an email to let me know that it was not 200 per cent -- but 9900%.!!!!!!!!!!!! My math skills remain truly abysmal!)

The problem is this though. I do not have, nor will I ever have, the ability to sell this book for what I should get out of it. A.) I don’t have a store in a major metropolitan location B.) I don’t have ABAA accreditation C.) I don’t have decades of experience and a wide reputation for high quality inventory and D.) I don’t show my books at major antiquarian shows because I don’t have sufficient reliable inventory to sign up in advance.  In other words, I’m a small-time seller with a burning desire to be more than that.

 As I’ve told you, when I first began I was strictly a commodity seller. It wasn’t until I bought books at the Lillian Knight auction in 2007 that I underwent a profound  epiphany while  sitting on my kitchen floor surrounded by stacks of books from her collection --  Small Italian Villas and Farmhouses (1920); Sketches and Designs by Stanford White (1920); Into the Brazilian Wilderness by Theodore Roosevelt, 1^st ed. 1914; etc. etc.  I had had expensive books before of course, but nothing like these. These had age and a beauty that I had never experienced in my life with  the exception of Kipling’s From Sea To Sea, Letters Of Travel, 1899 (two volumes In original rare slipcase) . I knew as I sat there that afternoon that I never, ever wanted  to sell books with ISBNS again unless they were over-the-top wonderful. Of course it didn’t quite work out that way, though I did shift the bulk of my inventory to non-ISBNs and have consistently kept it there. Most of the time I’m happy with the way things played out, but every once in awhile, like yesterday, a jolt out of the blue will immediately flood me with complicated emotions.

This time, as always, I regained my equilibrium by nightfall, but it’s only good until next time -- and of course there WILL be a next time. There always is -- always.  But the bottom line is this. Though it may not sound like it sometimes, I am very grateful to be able to do this thing at all and do it on my own terms in an age when books and technology struggle in an uneasy alliance. I would of course love to embody all of the attributes mentioned above and would maybe even MORE love it if I could break loose from every single one of the listing sites. But the truth is that none of those things are going to happen.

And yet ....  What about  that old saying “never say never”?  I’ve always kind of liked that because it’s practical without shutting out possibility. So I’m inclined to say that while none of it’s likely  to happen some part of it could happen.

If all the stars lined up just right and the moon was in Aquarius something could.

Maybe anything could.