Miriam’s Little Gentleman (The Heart of the Amish)

He gave an impatient huff and paced away across the floor, then back. "I feel that you've outgrown such venues, where your art is selling for not much more than the prints they also offer, which you can find in hundreds of stores. And they treat you like a print shop, ordering more paintings as if you can just spew them out willy-nilly on demand. You are an artist. Your beautiful work should be displayed in a gallery, such as mine, not alongside candles and knickknacks and faceless Amish dolls."

 

"Outgrown those shops? But so many tourists see my work in them, Mr.

Jirles."

"Yes, and I have a suggestion there, but first I want to talk about what I think would be best for you as an artist. I think you've reached the point in your career where you should pull your paintings out of those shops and give Visions of Willow Creek exclusive rights to represent your work."

She blinked at him. "Exclusive rights? Then I wouldn't be selling my work in any other places?"

"Not your original art. We need to establish the idea that your art is unique and not to be found just anywhere. You want the art world to take you seriously as an artist of important American folk art."

"Really?"

"Absolutely. And I recommend that we immediately raise the price on your paintings." He looked at her intently through his thick, square-framed black glasses. "Well? What do you think?"

She blinked again, wondering if she should pinch herself, and glanced at the price tags discreetly displayed beside each of her paintings. The larger ones were already priced about as you'd pay for a gut queen-sized Amish quilt!

"You think people would pay more than this? But the prices are already so high!"

"Oh, yes, I'm quite sure they would. In fact, I suggest we experiment by pricing your new paintings fifty percent higher than your old ones. And if you agree to my terms, which I believe you'll find to be quite reasonable, as I have no plans to raise the percentage rate of what you pay me from a sale, then I think you'll start seeing even more interest in your work."

"I'm not sure what to say. It sounds reasonable. But why do you want to be the only place selling my art?"

"Ah, that's the trick to creating demand. Exclusivity! If they want an original Miriam Zook painting, they'll have to come to Willow Creek to get it. Although, we could consider online sales as well. I've been toying with that idea for a while."

"How will anyone know about me if they don't see my work in the tourist shops?"

"Publicity, my dear. Social media. A story in the newspapers, beginning with our local paper. I believe Philomena Jones would be interested in doing a feature on you and your art in The Examiner."

Miriam absentmindedly tucked a strand of black hair back into her kapp. She knew the name, and knew that Ms. Jones, editor of the weekly Willow Creek Examiner, had recently helped her friends Lizzie Miller and Jane Bontrager solve a hundred-year-old murder mystery involving Lizzie's bakery, The Plain Beignet. She had never met the Englisch woman, but she'd read a few of her stories in the local paper.

The ideas of bringing in more money to help her family and of not having to travel to the more distant towns in the area to deliver paintings held their appeal. But was she being prideful, wanting her art to gain more recognition and earn more money?

"I like the idea, but I'll need to talk it over with my parents and the bishop, just to be sure there's nothing in the Ordnung against any of this."

 

"That's fine. I expected no less. Since you won't use the services of an attorney, I encourage you to discuss this with your elders. Hold on a minute, I'll be right back."

He strode across the gallery space to his office, located just outside the main gallery in a hallway leading to other rooms where more art was on display. She heard him shuffling through papers on his desk and muttering to himself. A moment later he returned, a manilla envelope in his hand. "Here. It's a new contract. Everything is spelled out. Have your parents go over it with you, and your bishop if he's knowledgeable about business matters. And in a few days, come back and tell me what you want to do. If you decide to keep things as they are, that's fine. I'll try and change your mind, but I'll accept your final decision—eventually." He gave her a half smile. "Meanwhile, I'll get the rest of these wonderful paintings hung up and priced. Do you agree to the higher price point?"

She nodded numbly, looking absently at the five paintings leaning against the wall waiting to be hung up. "I don't see why not. Denki!"