I tried to find a picture of a 1,000.00 dollar bottle of wine and came up short. Here's one for only $900.00, but the title was, "Have you ever had a $1,000 bottle of wine sent to you?"
Nope—never have. But I guess the receiver of that bottle of wine thought rounding up a $900 bottle to $1,000 seemed reasonable.
I kept searching for a $1,000 bottle of wine, and it's true: it made a $35.00 bottle seem cheap.
Why am I talking about wine? Well, why not? This morning, the thought popped into my head that I ought to offer something for $1,000—like that bottle of wine I saw on a menu once upon a time. Then, for the first week, l could offer it a 50% discounted rate. That would be only $500.00. Then I could offer a coupon for 25% off and that would be $380. And for the first 25 people to sign up, I could give it to them for $49.95. That's reasonable, isn't it?
Hey, maybe I'm getting the hang of this.
As a writer who would love to make a living writing, I thought of the day I saw that $1,000 bottle of wine offered on a wine menu and figured that the restaurant owner didn't expect to sell that bottle of wine for the price he was asking, but it made that $20.00 bottle appear cheap. We were out with friends for a special occasion. No one wanted to be a cheapskate.
How do you determine value when it's something like wine or words? I agree that all wine and words are not created equal, and people do want value for their buck.
I praise Substack for offering a venue for some excellent writers; however, to stay in business, they must also pay themselves to keep their site open, and thus, they encourage writers to charge. With that fee, they hold a small percentage. The rest goes to the starving artist.
(Michael Moore said that people would rather spend a week with Marjorie Taylor Greene than plunk down five bucks on his Substack account.)
The big guys do not hesitate to charge for their offerings, be it books, paintings, music, entertainment, sports events, coaching, workshops, or channeling long-lost warriors. I need to learn from the big guys.
Speaking of Substack, I came across a quirky fun site I had never seen titled Café Anne.
"A former Wall Street Journal columnist traipses around NYC interviewing random senior citizens and investigating weird trash piles ... what's not to love?" —Mason Curry, author of "Daily Rituals" and Subtle Maneuvers.
Anne decided to ride the New York Subway for 24 hours.
Writes Anne: The rules: I can go wherever I please, chat with whomever looks interesting, and pass the time however I like—as long as I don't pass back through the turnstile. Also, I'm only allowed to eat, drink, and read what I buy underground.
"Any suggestions?" she asks her friend Shelly, who will keep her dog while she is gone.
"One word," says Shelly. "Don't."
"It's too late. I've wanted to do this for years, lord knows why, and have spent many hours at this point planning and packing for the trip, the way one might prepare for a safari."
Here's her take away:
Anne wears the same outfit for a year: an all-black, washable, collared button-down shirt, pencil skirt, black tights, boots with a two-inch heel, that's it. Black goes anywhere, she says, and it's hardly noticed on the street. She does have a dress for special occasions. She was tired of the morning decision, "What to wear?" She said cops and most workers wear uniforms, so why not?
https://annekadet.substack.com/
I was a dental assistant for 5 years and wore a uniform. I loved it; that way, I knew what I would be wearing, and that made it fun on the weekends when I could wear color, dress up or down. Even the dentist said, "Wow," when he saw me out of my whites, the second dentist switched to a soft green, same result.
How about signing up for a subscription to my Substack site—all my content is free; the only advantage is you would get a notice when I post, and it would help feed my husband, our three dogs, and one cat.
If I'm not worth reading, forget everything I said.
https://joycedavis.substack.com/
