I recently received a letter from a woodworker looking to
make a stab at a business in woodworking. Over the years, I've had lots of
contact with folks doing this and have tried to share thoughts that I might
have benefited from hearing earlier in my career. I touch on my experience in
my book, but I thought that the topic warrants a more thorough look. Of course,
any time that one addresses this topic it will be through their own lens, so I
will describe a bit about my path in later. For the record, I don't consider
myself a great businessman, actually not at all, but after many years in the
ring, I'm still swinging, so take my comments for what they are worth to you.
For this first stab at a response to his letter, I want to
go right to the heart of what I think is the first order of
"business" which is figuring out why you want to do it. Quite
frankly, woodworking on the small scale is a tough business, so folks jumping
into it usually have personal reasons for taking on the challenge. Over
the years I met lots of different folks with many interests and sensibilities.
The common theme amongst the successful ones is that they hold true to their
interests and are very aware to nurture them, while keeping an honest
assessment of how the results translate to the buying public.
So what drives you to want to make a living in woodworking?
Are you an artist bent on self expression?
Do you see money growing in the trees and spread sheets
thrill you?
Do you love wood as a material and just want to be around it?
Does furniture of all sorts fascinate you?
Does the curl of a shaving from a handplane fill you with a
sense of wonder and accomplishment?
Does the hum of a well tuned jointer make you swoon?
It's usually some sort of mix of all of the above. The
nature of your interest must be the first question you address, because the job
of mastering your process and contending with the buying public won't mean
a thing if it isn't in line with how you want to spend your time and effort.
If you are a businessman at heart, you have a good chance of
doing well because you can quantify the public desire for a product with cool
detachment, price out the tooling, materials, labor and competition and create
a viable business plan. The problem is that I have yet to meet the woodworking
enthusiast who wants to trade the workbench for the front office. We are a
notoriously romantic lot. Besides, a person capable of detaching their
passion that way would quickly assess that carpet cleaning and home meat
delivery have much more growth potential.
For the artist, I have bad news, but you probably already
know this. For most folks bent on self expression, the market is fickle and a
life of fulfillment will most likely come from your deep and lasting connection
to your creations and process. Good marketing and extraordinary talent
can overcome this, but if you are looking to quit your day job, beware,
it’s a tough transition.
If you are a furniture nut, you have a leg up on getting
started because you, more than most, can already relate to the viewpoint of
your potential client base. It’s a very different person that covets a piece of
furniture than one that admires the construction and wants to build one, but
it’s easy to confuse the two. I admire the skill and achievement of lots of
furniture, but it mostly sends me reaching for my sketchbook, not my wallet. It
takes discipline to not confuse the two.
If you think that anything made would be better made of
wood, you might have a tough time understanding why the exquisite bubinga
toothbrushes you make aren’t flying off the shelf, “don’t they see the figure?
Most humans find the warmth and beauty of wood to be pleasing, but
inappropriate use and overuse is as much of a turnoff as eating a dinner of all
starch. For most folks, wood will be a welcome accent and they will never rise
to your level of attachment, or at least not enough to detach them from their
money.
If you are a confirmed shop monkey, you might find yourself
in the most tricked out shop of lovingly restored machines and elaborate dust
collection with no real driving passion to make anything but a
better crosscut sled and mirror polish on handplane soles. This
is a tough one, because you have to sell something to pay for all that stuff.
Lots of machinery can be bought at a bargain price and be brought to life, but
you aren’t creating value unless you make something with it or sell the
machine. Selling the machines might be better business plan for you if you love
the tools. Of course, parting with your “babies” might cause some post partem
depression.
If you are a hand tool and old technology lover, you are
probably comfortable with the notion that you aren’t going to be the fastest,
but in your mind the most genuine. This is a tough sell for the public who
might admire your skill and passion, but refuse to subsidize your quaint ways.
Hand tools are indeed fast and effective, and have many advantages when it
comes to expense, storage, power and maintenance. But to be a viable path to
production, you will need to make choices about the product and materials that
bring them up to speed with the value that the public puts on the end result.
Defining your interest and relating it to the buying public
is the first step in assessing your potential for supporting yourself from your
woodworking. It's tough, because let's face it, woodworking fascinates you and
it's easy to mistake this for value in the minds of potential clients. The
other honest assessment that you will need to consider is about your needs. You
will most likely have to "need" less for a while as you
sort out your skills, product and market. So the first step isn't buying the
tools or mastering dovetails, nope it's harder than that, it's a long hard look
at how you want to spend your time and what kind of life you hope it will bring
you.