Frosting Face
The craft show atmosphere is a lot like an airport at Christmas time. There’s a lot of baggage and hustle and bustle, and big personalities that squabble over small things and quiet people who absorb it all with a pen in hand.
There are two events coming up fast where I get to sell my books. Every time I participate in events like these, I think about how I should write an insider’s perspective into this world of crafting, writing, selling, and the slow descent into utter madness.
Picture yourself sitting in a gym, or a library, or a church, winery, the side of the road, the list goes on, and you’re at your table filled with your own handmade items.
I can tell you from personal experience that the sellers near you wield a lot of power. Depending on their quirks and what they’re selling, you might be in for a very long day. At events like these, you’ve got your Chatty Cathies, the talkers, over-sharers, and people who butt in during your sales. You’ve got your Holiday Hannahs who make five-foot tall decorations that they crowd and jam into your area when they run out of their own space. At one event I looked like I was sitting in the corner of a dark forest because the vendors on either side of me had these huge wooden Halloween monstrosities that leaned over into my space. The chairs at that event were especially low, too, so I was sitting three feet below everyone’s eye level. (Don’t get me wrong; I was happy to have a chair. Standing for that long in one spot can be tough. But now I bring my own chair.)
Or you could just be placed across from the Fabulous Baker Girls who make the most amazing cookies, so you start the day at a deficit because you bought a whole box that you are now trying discretely to eat even as you have crumbs on your dress and frosting on your chin. Not that I’m talking from personal experience here. Okay, Frosting Face is totally me. You got me. But I can tell you that on any given day, I’ve been pretty much all of these characters. (And I could write a book about it all and call it Arts & Crafts & the Musings of Frosting Face. Or something equally silly.)
We’re all out there to sell something but some vendors take it more personally than others if the sales are slow or the crowd is small. These Lamenters like to complain about everything from the setup, lighting, music volume, temperature, and, of course, their lack of sales, which is really the only thing they really care about. And sales are important, but—I went to a new event last year and made immediate sales the moment the doors opened, as if the buyers were looking specifically for me. Turns out, they actually were. They’d seen me a month earlier and didn’t have the chance at the time to get my books so they found me at this next show. My bottom line: Things are usually working in your favor behind the scenes. Don’t forget that.
And then there’s the public at large, with its own brand of issues and hilarity to add to the mix. I’m amazed how people chat as they walk by and they don’t think anyone can hear them. You’ve got the Boasters, the folks on cell phones shouting about where they parked and where you can find them, but you’ve also got the Negative Nancies, friends walking along with each other saying things like, “I hate that color. That looks awful. I could make that better and cheaper…”
In response to this, in the small chances I have to get away from my table, I walk around in full Cheerleader mode, saying positive things from the heart, even if I’m not buying anything. “What a cool idea. This stitching is lovely. I like this design…”
In the commotion and flurry of craft shows, holidays, and random Tuesdays, we are dealing with a world of personalities each with their own agenda that usually has to happen now. By the same token, we have no idea how much we’re projecting into the world.
So let’s make it good.
