Before the Ring of Fire the house had been offered as a rental with the bare minimum of furniture. Untenanted at the time of the Ring of Fire, and with the landlord an up-time property company, the house and acreage it stood on had reverted to the government. Carl Schockley, a guy who had been working temporarily in Grantville, had managed to buy the place in the early days after the Ring of Fire, before property values went wild. Last year Carl had relocated to Magdeburg, leaving the property in the hands of the tenants he'd recruited to help pay the mortgage.
Sebastian left the carton of books at the house and went in search of his gran. He found her doing what any self-respecting septuagenarian would do in her place if they lived in the house on Grays Run.
BOOM!
That's right. She was "playing" with explosives. The prime tenant Carl had left behind was a company he helped start-Brennerei und Chemiefabrik Schwarza. Originally they'd just made primers and percussion caps, but over time they'd branched out, and although they no longer produced the explosives on the property, they did conduct tests there.
He waited for the all clear before joining his gran and Tom Frost. "Hi, having fun?" Lettie Sebastian turned and he saw the mile-wide smile on her face. "Silly question. I got the books yesterday. I've left a carton of review copies up at the house for you to sign and number before I mail them." He screwed his nose up at that. He saw the need for giving away a few review copies, but he wasn't happy about it. Not considering how many books they had to sell just to break even. The problem was the books weren't just expensive, they were horrendously expensive. The special high quality paper the books had been printed on saw to that. They could have used cheaper paper, but the photographs wouldn't have looked half as good and his gran's artistic sensibilities had overtaken economic sense, and she'd insisted on the better quality paper.
"I don't see why you're worried. Your market research showed there was a lot of interest in a book of photographs showing Grantville before and after," Tom said.
"But it wasn't enough to persuade Schmucker and Schwentzel to publish it," Sebastian said.
"That's because there is a lot of difference between people saying they might be interested in buying such a book and those same people actually forking out seven hundred and fifty dollars, plus postage and packaging, for it." Lettie shrugged. "Still, it's only money, and at my time of life it's best to enjoy it while you can."
"You're not worried about losing your house?" Tom asked.
"I live here." Lettie waved her arms to encompass the Grays Run property. "And the rent my tenants pay covers the mortgage with more than enough over to pay my way here. As long as the property taxes don't go too high, there shouldn't be a problem."
Sebastian was glad to hear his gran wasn't going to lose her home if the book was a failure, but he was hoping it made a profit, because Gran had promised him a share of any profit in return for his help.
Wednesday
With summer school operating Sebastian had time to hawk his gran's book around town before and after school. This afternoon his target was the post office. He checked his appearance in the reflection from the window before walking in. He'd made an appointment to talk to the postmaster, so he approached a teller to let them know he was there, and was promptly told to "please wait." He waited over by the stands that showed the merchandise the post office sold. There were the usual post related items in the form of standard size cardboard boxes and envelopes, postcards, and then there were the "last minute gifts and souvenirs." A Pictorial History of Grantville would be right at home here, if it wasn't three times the price of the next most expensive book.
"Sebastian, how can I help you?" Pam Sizemore, the postmaster, asked when she showed up a few minutes later.
Sebastian took the sample book he was carrying out of its protective packaging and offered it to Pam. "You said you might be willing to sell my grandmother's new book."
He waited patiently while Mrs. Sizemore slowly looked through the book. "It's very good. I can see the tourist market being interested, but how much is it going to cost?" she asked.
"We're thinking to retail it at seven hundred and fifty dollars."
Pam whistled. "That's pricy. I don't think we'd get much demand for anything that expensive. Still, there will be some interest." She fondled the box it came in. "Do they all come in these boxes? Because most of our sales would be to people wanting something to send as a gift, and we don't have anything this size."
Sebastian made an executive decision. The books had been delivered in cartons of twenty. He had been planning to use the custom protective corrugated cardboard boxes for mail-order purchases only, so they'd have to order some more made, but for such an expensive book, the extra cost of the packaging wasn't worth fighting over. "I can supply the books in a carton of twenty, with the packaging as pre-cut corrugated cardboard sheets, or I can deliver the books individually pre-packaged."
Pam glanced over at the books she had on sale. "You can put me down for twenty pre-packaged, and we'll see how they sell."
Sebastian recorded the order in his book and left for his next stop.
After a long afternoon traipsing around the shops, Sebastian had commitments for a hundred books, and he hadn't even tried the tourist traps yet. The Red Barn Museum was his next stop.
The Red Barn, naturally enough, attracted tourists, and Sebastian felt that the prime market for his gran's book would be the tourists. When he'd been conducting his market research the museum's manager had indicated that she would be interested, so here he was. He approached the first museum assistant he discovered. "Mrs. Harris, is Mrs. Mase about?"
"She's in her office, Sebastian."
"Thank you." He made for the museum manager's office and knocked on the door.
"Come in."
"Good afternoon, Mrs. Mase. I've come about Gran's book." He laid the by now shop-soiled box on her desk and stepped back.
Sydney Mase hefted the box before opening it, the moment she removed the tissue paper protecting the dust jacket she froze, and just stared at the view on the cover. It was a view from the hills looking over post Ring of Fire Grantville showing, as close as they could tell, the same view as that of the 1897 "map" of Grantville that had pride of place on the wall of the museum.
Sydney opened the book and stopped again. The endpapers were a reproduction of the 1897 map. She looked up. "Could you turn that into a poster?" she asked.
"Gran took that photo with a ten by twelve plate camera. I guess it could be enlarged, but Schmucker and Schwentzel have a camera that can take bigger photographs. If you wanted to have posters made, then I'd suggest talking to them."
"Do you have any idea what they'd cost?"
Sebastian shrugged. "They can't be too expensive. The Arts Week committee in Magdeburg had promotion posters made last year, and those were in color. Ask them, I'm sure they'd be happy to give you a quote."
"I will. Okay, back to your grandmother's book. It's even better than I thought it would be. What are you hoping to sell it for?"
"Seven-fifty," Sebastian muttered defensively. He'd been catching flack from retailers all afternoon about the price.
Sydney surprised him. She nodded. "That sounds about right. It's expensive, but there is absolutely nothing like it out there. We should ask your gran to take some photographs so we can put together a souvenir of the museum."