Guest post by Kate Toon — award-winning author, digital marketing expert and the owner of the Umina Book Nook.
“You’re making the worst financial decision ever!” exclaimed my accountant with a hint of playful sarcasm.
Yet, within those words, I found a spark that ultimately led me on a path to becoming the proud owner of a failing bookstore in a cute coastal town. With a grim financial outlook, a tarnished reputation, and no retail experience besides folding underpants at a men’s store during my teenage years, it was clear that logic frowned upon this decision.
Yet, it didn’t deter me; my gut insisted this venture could succeed. And in many ways, it has.
For those unfamiliar with my journey, I am an established author and online entrepreneur and digital marketing coach who’s navigated the digital maze of copywriting and SEO, turning it into a multimillion-dollar empire from the comfort of my shed.
Yet, despite my digital triumphs, life’s summit felt strangely hollow.
The accolades had been won, the financial goals achieved, but the confines of my home office – accompanied only by my teen son and a furry companion – felt increasingly isolating.
Then, during one reflective walk along the beach, fate intervened with an email. A local bookstore, a community cornerstone in my sunny seaside town, was on the brink of closure unless a buyer miraculously appeared.
Turns out I was that buyer. I signed on the dotted line just a few days later.
Embracing the challenge on bricks and mortar retail meant facing formidable obstacles head-on.
In the early months, everything from complex POS systems, to endless publisher contracts and costly renovations threatened to derail my newfound dream.
The community also did not easily warm up to the idea of an outsider waltzing in with grand plans – I mean I’d lived in the town for 15 years but you know how locals can be.
Skepticism was palpable, and I became the subject of a negative social media campaign – but thankfully after years of combatting online trolls, their words rolled off my back like water off a duck’s.
Financially, the journey was no less daunting. The store was barely surviving financially, and any semblance of profitability was out of reach.
But I was hopeful that I could use my digital marketing superpowers to turn that financial frown upside down.
First up I embarked on a comprehensive rebranding mission – dropping the dusty, stuffy vibe and replacing it with a fresh, friendly inviting look that worked seamlessly across revamped signage, decor, and street appeal.
We built an SEO friendly ecommerce website, detailed email flows, created a Facebook group and breathed new life into the stale socials.
These updated digital strategies, and vibrant social media content for sure amplified our reach, but also built trust with our customers.
But, with Amazon and chain stores undercutting prices, I quickly realised that to truly thrive, we needed to offer more than products. We needed community.
Focusing on building meaningful bonds, we expanded the loyalty program, hosted engaging in-store events, launched themed book clubs, and encouraged family-friendly activities.
The warmth we fostered attracted visitors from as far as Sydney, transforming our little shop into a true destination (and helping the Umina community as a whole).
We relentlessly optimised local SEO, refined our reviews, and cultivated genuine connections that incrementally bolstered our online and real life footprint.
Finally we turned a new corner, the average sale value rose, the number of daily customers hugely increased, repeat custom was up and revenue saw a 37% increase in the first year. And boy does that feel good!
The turning point was twofold: using modern marketing technology to reach new audiences and nurturing those who walked through our doors.
Our aim was to create a safe haven, a place where Barry could explore the latest thrillers, Penny could converse without the hindrance of a walker, and where Cara could find reprieve while her kids listened to a story.
Nevertheless, financial independence remains a goal not yet realised. Bookshops, inherently challenging single-unit enterprises, demand creativity to flourish against the big fat corporate stores.
But in truth it wasn’t wealth that drove me to buy a bookshop, it was the desire to build genuine human connections into my life.
Owning the bookshop has gifted me a renewed sense of purpose, an ability to be a part of a wonderful community and the luxury reading as many books as I desire.
In stepping out from behind the isolated veil of online success, I discovered happiness in every handshake, and yes, every challenging customer encounter (almost).
So this seemingly reckless venture was a leap into the unknown, and yet, it became one of the best ‘worst’ decisions I ever made.
Beyond dollars and cents, the shop stands as a glowing blob of human connection in an often darkly digital age. A reminder that life’s true enjoyments lie in its stories and the connections they build, and the sweet sweet smell of my morning coffee and those glorious books each day.
