Lie-Nielsen’s shipment of Rivierre die-forged nails have arrived in Maine and the company has started to sell the nails on its website here.
I ordered one box of each size and style to take a look at the blued finish and the hammered-head variants. (Previously all the Rivierre nails I’ve used were black and had the diamond heads.) Yes, I paid full retail. All the nails are very nice. The blue is nice and dark – almost black. The difference is subtle and is something most casual observers would overlook (in other words: either is fine).
If you are looking for a good assortment to begin with, here are some guidelines:
30mm nails: Fastening 3/8”-thick stuff.
35mm to 40mm nails: Fastening 1/2”-thick stuff.
50mm to 55mm nails: Fastening 3/4”-thick stuff.
You’ll probably use 35mm and 40mm nails more than the other sizes. That’s because they are ideal for cabinet backs and bottoms. And once you reduce the thickness of a 3/4” cabinet side to 1/2” for a dado or rabbet, you’ll grab a 35mm or 40mm nail for that joint as well.
In general, the longer the nail, the more fastening power it provides, but the extra length also makes the fastener more likely to split the work or bend to follow the grain. The good news is that these nails are robust and don’t tend to follow the grain much (I have yet to have one wander, which is a significant concern with softer cut nails).
It took a long time for Lie-Nielsen to get these nails, so if you order I would err on the side of ordering a few extra boxes (nails don’t go bad – like chicken).
Getting inexpensive and effective die-forged nails is about to become a lot easier in North America. Lie-Nielsen Toolworks will start carrying a selection of Rivierre nails within the next few weeks, says Deneb Puchalski at Lie-Nielsen.
The shipment is on its way from the 19th-century factory in Creil, France, which is about 50 kilometers outside Paris.
For starters, here are the types of nails Lie-Nielsen will carry and the sizes:
Diamond-Shaped Head, Black Steel Nails: 35mm/40mm/50mm/55mm
Hammered Head, Blued Steel Nails: 30mm/40mm/50mm
Hammered Head, Black Steel Nails: 30mm/40mm/50mm
Extra Large Hammered Head, Blued Steel Nails: 30mm/40mm/60mm
Deneb says they will likely expand the types of nails they carry from Rivierre (the company boasts it makes 2,800 types). And that the director of Rivierre was willing to discuss making other types of nails the company does not make now, such as clench nails and headless brads.
Deneb visited the factory earlier this year to see the operation and meet the employees, who work in a gorgeous late 19th-century factory that looks virtually unchanged from when the company started in 1888.
Founded by Theodore Rivière, the factory originally made nails for upholsterers and cobblers only. After two years, Theodore died and his wife, Marie, took over the factory operation at the age of 27 and ran it for 35 years. The factory was then run by Forges et Aciéries de Commercy, bombed during World War II and rebuilt. It was sold to its current director, Luc Kemp, who is running the factory as it was in 1888 as much as possible.
Because of this, Rivierre was named a “Entreprise du patrimoine vivant” (Living Heritage Company by the government.
“It was incredible to walk through the building. All the machines are where they were in the 1890s and everything is completely covered in (vegetable) oil,” Deneb says. “The owner, Luc Kemp, is a determined man. He will not be denied. This is a labor of love.”
(And why vegetable oil? Deneb says Rivierre uses that because their upholstery and cobbler customers hold the nails in the mouth while working. So it’s for safety.)
The nails start as round wire that is first stretched to the appropriate gauge and then fed into a machine that presses the wire into the square-shanked tapered shape in a die. Then the nail is headed and pointed in separate motions.
Nails are deburred in a rotary bin filled with wood chips (the owner had to buy a company that made wood chips to get what he wanted, Deneb says). Then they are heat-treated and colored black or blue – or left as raw steel.
Then they are packaged. For some customers, such as Lie-Nielsen, they are put in plastic bags of 100 nails. The company also makes heavy folded paper boxes using an origami-like process for packaging nails in 4 or 5 kilo orders. If demand is strong, Deneb hopes they will also start carrying the larger quantities in the folded boxes.
As you can guess, I am quite excited that these nails will become available here in the United States. Since discovering them last June, I have used easily 5 kilos of nails on a variety of projects. The hold remarkably well – better than any other nail I’ve used – are finely made and look fantastic. You won’t believe how nice a nail it is for the price.
Stay tuned to Lie-Nielsen’s site (and this blog). When they are available for sale, I’ll post an announcement here.
Three things I avoid: debt, overhead and employees.
That’s the mantra Lucy, John and I follow. And I probably should just end this blog entry right there. The practical side of running a small business like Lost Art Press plus my personal household is complex enough to write a book about – thank goodness I have John as the other half of the business and Lucy here at home. Partnerships are tricky. I am extremely fortunate to have people who view money and work through the same lens.
So with that said, let’s start with debt.
When my wife, Lucy, and I were 23 we made a solemn vow while sitting on the washing machines in our apartment complex: We would avoid debt at every turn.
Within a couple months we paid off a few thousand dollars of debt we had on our credit cards and since then have – with the exception of buying a house – never carried debt on credit cards or consumer loans or anything.
I know there are people who will convince you that debt is good, but I’m too stupid to buy that argument. And so we buy only what we can afford and we save whatever we can. We live in an inexpensive city outside Cincinnati, Ohio, which allows two low-paid writers to raise a family and live fairly well. I cannot image making this life work in New York or Chicago.
Once you get rid of debt, the rest of the bills are easy to manage, even with a inconsistent salary like mine. The following are some of the things we do to make the numbers balance every month. But before I delve into this, it’s important to say that money does not occupy the center of our lives. We think of it as water from the faucet: It is there when you need it, but for Pete’s sake don’t waste it.
Utilities and Other ‘Fixed’ Costs Costs are like fingernails. They have to be constantly tended to or you’ll end up looking like that creepy guy in the Guinness Book of World Records. So every spring Lucy and I review our household costs.
The review isn’t about figuring out which TV channels we can live without on cable. It’s about checking in on the utilities themselves. Years ago we discovered our phone bill was creeping up every year even though we weren’t using the phone much. After 10 minutes of digging we discovered that the phone company had long ago discontinued the “package” of services we were using and offered packages with more services at half the cost.
We felt like suckers.
Now we check the websites of our cable company, phone company, internet provider and insurers each spring to make sure we’re getting the best published price. We’re not trying to whine and get an artificially lower rate; we just want the best rate they offer to anyone.
Hint: Try this with a magazine subscription. When they call you to renew at $36.95 per year, simply ask for the best price they can offer. Most magazines will immediately give you the introductory price with no arm twisting. This can save you 50 percent.
With our insurance carriers, we ask for a “rate review” every year. It’s a quick 10-minute phone call that usually results in them saying: Hmmm. You pay your bills on time so we’d like to offer you a discount to stay with us. Another good tactic with insurers: Ask them what you could do to save money on your rates. You might be surprised. We saved more than $1,000 a year by agreeing to have a dumb monitoring device installed on our cars for 90 days. Yeah, it’s creepy Big Brother stuff, but I’ll play along if that means I have an extra $1,000 for lumber and good food.
With Lost Art Press, John does similar reviews of our expenses and does them quite regularly. This has saved us thousands on on our phones, credit card processing fees and the like.
On Overhead Have none or almost none. Use your house as long as you can for your business. At one point we had boxes of books packed under every bed in the house. All of us – both my family and John’s – packed parcels for customers until we could afford a warehouse service.
Even when things seem stable, try to trim overhead. Lucy and I recently bought a building in Covington, Ky., which might seem like we’re doing a dumb thing and increasing overhead. But we’re actually reducing it – we’re going to sell our current home and move into the Covington building, which is worth about half of our current house and is smaller with less maintenance. This is a multi-year plan, but it will pay.
Don’t buy equipment thinking it will help you get work. Buy equipment because you absolutely have to purchase it in order to complete some work you have on hand. But when you buy, buy the best you can afford.
Don’t go into debt for equipment. If you don’t have the money to buy it, then you can’t afford it. You might have to turn down work as a result, but growing slow is better than having to be a slave to a machine and its monthly debt service.
When you do buy equipment, keep your accountant in the loop (see below) so you can amortize it. When you get rid of equipment, let your accountant know, especially if you live in a state that taxes personal property (I do).
Considering Incorporating Get an accountant who specializes in small businesses. Ask to talk to him or her about your situation and assist with tax planning – if you make this phone call right before you quit your corporate job it will help you sleep at night.
Our society isn’t set up to encourage small businesses. So you need to deduct everything allowable and legal. You can make your vacations deductible if you are smart. Learn to track all your expenses and mileage to reduce your tax burden. I know this sounds tedious and antithetical to living free of “the man,” but we are never free of “the man.” Once you set up a few spreadsheets and manila folders for receipts, you’ll do it automatically, like brushing your teeth. It makes a difference.
You might ask your accountant about incorporating as a limited liability corporation (LLC), which has some tax advantages once you start to make money.
Making Money & Marketing Unlike every other generation before, we have a huge advantage when it comes to marketing a tiny business: the Internet. Every person on the planet has access to free tools that allow them to communicate anywhere in the world that has an Internet connection.
If you aren’t using free social media tools – Facebook, Twitter, Instagram and old-school blogs – then you are making life more difficult.
Using these services is like learning good hygiene. The first time you floss your teeth, it sucks. Eventually, you feel weird if you don’t do it.
Document your work with the camera on your phone and put one thing out there every day on some channel – even if it’s just a photo with a caption. (Warning: Putting 20 things up in a day could hurt you. Instead, think about the best thing you did that day – it could be an image, an idea or a dumb/clever joke. Post that on the channel it is best suited for. Then get on with the rest of your day.)
As you get started in social media, the best way to grow your presence is to interact with others. Add meaningful comments on their channels. Contribute. Be thoughtful and honest. You will generate a gravitational field and people will find you.
How does this make you money? It doesn’t. But if you are a talented, consistent and reasonable voice in your community – whatever community that is – eventually people will want to hire you. This is where it gets sticky. People will ask you to work for free or almost nothing. It’s tempting to do this a few times for “exposure.”
Here’s a typical example: Last year a guy in our town asked me to build a custom garden bench to put in front of his yard for runners and walkers to rest. He said I could put my company’s name on it and I would benefit from the exposure. Other people would see my work and want me to build furniture for them. Bullcrap.
Don’t work for free. If someone asks you to work for free, ask them to do something of equal value for you. That’s as close as I get to working for free.
Getting paid is the hardest part of living apart from a corporation. A regular paycheck is a seductive thing. But after a few years away from corporate life, you will have this epiphany: The regular paycheck is like a drug that can be snatched away at any moment. You can be fired and have the rug pulled out from under you, leaving you to scramble and make bad decisions.
If you are a freelancer, you never depend on one source of income. When one source dries up, another one can take its place. Eventually you’ll understand that this makes you far more resilient than someone with a regular paycheck that can disappear with a pink slip.
Do Your Own Work Lost Art Press now makes enough money to have an employee or two. And some days it is tempting. I’d love to offload some administrative work on hired help. But we won’t do it. When you hire people, you have to manage them instead of doing what you are good at.
And, I hate to say this, but most people who are looking for a job are not the right sort of person to work with an independent entrepreneur. What you really need to do is to clone yourself. You can’t do that (yet), so don’t assume you can find someone who cares as much about your work as you do. As a former manager, I can say this is a rare quality.
John and I know we could expand the business if we hired people. But then we’d just be managing people all day. And that’s not what I love, like or even tolerate.
When we need help at Lost Art Press, we hire contract work and use other independent artisans.
There are about 10,000 things I could add to this entry, but the above points are the most important ones to me. And there are areas in which I have gotten lucky. Lucy has health insurance through her business, so that’s not been something we’ve had to wrestle with, such as utilities or overhead.
If this all sounds daunting, it’s not. If you have the passion and work ethic then the administrative part of life will fall in line.
During the last five years, a lot of students, readers and friends have asked for advice on how to leave the corporate world – and avoid starvation in the process. When I get asked this question, I take a deep breath. I hate to give advice because what worked for me might not work for you.
But after five years of this, I have learned a few little things that might help you if you ever dare to step to the edge and look down. I’m going to start with the philosophical stuff first and move into the practical stuff in a future post.
Focus on One Thing, But Not Really I have a variety of semi-useful semi-developed skills – writing, editing, graphic design, teaching, photography, website building – that I’ve honed during my 47 years. And when I left my job in 2011 I decided to do all of those things to make money, but to make woodworking part of all of them.
So I write and edit freelance stories, but only about woodworking. All my website efforts are on woodworking sites only – no dog groomers or moss enthusiast sites. By tying all my skills up with a long wooden shaving, the work I do in one area (writing a woodworking book) helps feed the other areas (writing woodworking articles and teaching woodworking classes).
I’ve had lots of offers to work outside of woodworking – editing fiction novels, writing for encyclopedias, editing home-improvement websites – but I’ve always said “no” to those offers. Not because I am rich (I can always use the work) but because it’s not a good idea long-term.
Stools Need Three Legs The corollary to the item above is that life is easier if you have more than one leg to stand on. If I only built custom furniture, I’d struggle a lot more. If I only wrote articles or just taught classes, ditto and ditto.
When I stopped teaching last year I had built up enough work that I’m surviving on writing, editing and building furniture. I do miss the income from teaching – don’t get me wrong – but because I had a lot of options, I didn’t need to take a job at Rockler to make ends meet.
Always Work; Never Work This isn’t the first time I left a corporate job. In 1993 I left a cozy editing job to start my own political newspaper with a partner. I threw in the towel on that newspaper after a few years because my heart wasn’t in it, though my body was. I worked seven days a week. I slept under my desk at the newspaper. And I was miserable because politics was not (and still is not) my thing.
Today I work seven days a week. While my eyes are open, I am pretty much working on something. But I love what I do so much that my only regret is that I have to sleep at night.
It’s still work. Staring at the screen gives me a headache. Humping hundreds of pounds of wood my myself makes me sore at night. Dealing with manufacturing books and posters gives me a stomach ache.
But – and this is important – I’d do this even if it weren’t my job.
Lots of hobbyist woodworkers who have turned pro have told me that going pro ruined their woodworking hobby. My answer to this common statement is that woodworking isn’t a hobby. It should be an all-consuming obsession that frames your identity and existence (and has for many years). I started woodworking in earnest in 1993 and haven’t quit. I love it even more than when I started.
Try Not to Be a Hypocrite During the last 20 years, I’ve talked business with a lot of professional woodworkers all over the world. A common gripe goes like this: People just don’t buy bespoke, quality furniture anymore.
And they are saying this while dressed entirely in imported clothes made in questionable manufacturing conditions, with a shop full of Harbor Freight Tools and a house filled with plastic disposable junk.
While none of us is perfect and pure, I try to use local small businesses for everything I can – such as printing, design, T-shirts and scanning. It costs a bit more, but it has opened up opportunities that have greatly expanded my business and what I’m capable of.
I wear clothes and shoes that are made domestically and designed to last. They don’t cost that much more, but you won’t find them at a Wal-Mart. And I buy my food from the local butcher and green-grocer – it’s actually cheaper and better.
And I like good tools.
If you aren’t willing to embrace a world of custom, well-made objects, then maybe you shouldn’t peddle them.
If the above is obvious and not-at-all helpful, I apologize. The second installment will deal with nitty-gritty stuff: utilities, insurance, marketing, taxes and getting paid.
Working with wood has always seemed like it’s something more than just refashioning dead vegetable matter into useful items.
Unlike metal, wood has a way of reminding us of the time it took for every stick to grow. Pick up a door stile and look at the end grain. Count the annular rings and you know it took 40 years to make that part for a cabinet door. A door panel might take 100 years to grow. I have a piece of slow-growth huon pine in my shop that is about 4” wide and took more than 300 years to grow.
If you respect your elders, we all need to tip our hats to the scrap bin every day.
But I don’t think of time and lumber as mere linear things. Perhaps it’s my affinity for Buddhism, but I have always suspected there is a circle behind the work I do. But that the circle is so big that I am like a gnat walking along the rim of a dog bowl and unable to see that my path curves upon itself.
This week I’m reading a fun little book that has been fertilizing my circular logic. “The Lost Meaning of Classical Architecture” by George Hersey (The MIT Press) seeks to unpack historical architectural terms – torus, dentils, triglyphs and echinus, for example – and explain their connections to early Greek and Roman culture.
While Hersey explores a lot of fascinating ideas, the ones that stuck in my mind relate to Greek ritual sacrifice. Temples are in many ways a man-made grove of sacred trees, according to Hersey. Temple columns represent many things, including both a sacred tree and the human body.
In a ritual sacrifice, the animal victim is taken apart. Certain parts, such as the head, thighs, feet and horns are given special treatment. Some parts are eaten. Then the victim is reassembled on the altar. The head might be hung on a stick and draped with the skin. The bones might be arranged as they were when the animal was alive.
Without getting too deep into the religious aspect of it, the animal was the vessel of god during the sacrifice. And reconstructing it could represent that it has been reborn, or is immortal or wasn’t killed in the first place.
Whew. Should I insert a fart joke here?
When I make a piece of furniture, I am struck by weird and uneven aspects of the process. We take this massive entity – a living thing that took hundreds of years to grow, and we quickly girdle it and end its life so fast that it can take a week for the leaves to get the message that they’re dead.
We work these bits into ever-smaller chunks, getting down to the parts that are the strongest or most beautiful.
Then we rebuild these small bits into ever-bigger and more massive assemblies. We join them so they are as strong as when they held the forest canopy aloft.
And if we are successful, our work might last as long as the tree itself lived. It feels a lot like the description of Greek ritual sacrifice in Hersey’s book.
The implications of this view of the craft are personally staggering. Are we priests of a pagan religion? Are we recreating trees to give them immortality? To prove we never killed them?
Or is it as simple as when you spend hours at a bench every day sawing and planing a material for 20-plus years, that you get a little funny.