That same cedar sign — the one that now has a price, a photo, and a listing title — can live in more than one place. And the place you put it changes everything about who finds it and why they buy. Think of it this way. When Angela stands behind her market table in Prescott, the sign is doing something a screen cannot do. A stranger walks past, slows down, reaches out and touches the wood grain, asks who made it, and hears the answer in the same breath. That moment — the smell of the cedar, the weight of the piece, the face behind the work — is something no listing can fully replicate. Local markets and craft fairs are not just sales events. They are the fastest feedback loop available to a new seller. You learn in a single afternoon which pieces make people stop, which price points make them hesitate, and which questions come up again and again. That information is worth more than a month of guessing online. The cost of that feedback is real, though. A two-day event at Courthouse Plaza in Prescott runs around four hundred dollars for a standard booth space in 2026. That is not a reason to avoid markets — it is a reason to go in with enough inventory, clear pricing, and a way to take payment beyond cash. It is also a reason to treat the first market as a research trip as much as a sales day. Now set the market table aside for a moment and imagine the same sign appearing in an Etsy search result at eleven o'clock on a Tuesday night. The buyer is not in Prescott. She has never heard of Angela. She typed something into a search bar, and the listing either showed up or it did not. That is a completely different kind of selling. It is slower to build, more dependent on the words and photos you have already put in place, and it runs while you sleep. But it also means competing with a very large catalog of handmade goods, and it means every sale has to absorb platform costs before it becomes income. On a thirty-five-dollar sale, platform fees alone can quietly take close to four dollars before you count materials or time. That is not a reason to avoid Etsy either — it is a reason your pricing has to account for it from the start, which you have already done. Facebook Marketplace sits closer to the market-table end of that spectrum than the Etsy end. A local listing costs nothing to post when you are doing pickup rather than shipping through Facebook's checkout. The buyer is nearby, the transaction is simple, and the conversation happens fast. It is not glamorous, but for someone building a local customer base in a specific town, it can move pieces quickly without waiting for search traffic to build. Think of it as a digital version of a yard sale sign — low friction, local reach, and a good place to test whether your prices hold up in a real conversation. Instagram lives somewhere different from all of these. It is not primarily a place where buyers search for what they need. It is a place where they discover what they did not know they wanted. A short video of the burning process — the tip moving across wood, the smoke curling up, the image emerging — can stop a scroll in a way that a static photo of the finished piece sometimes cannot. That kind of content builds familiarity over time. People start to recognize your work, follow the process, and eventually ask how to order. Instagram is a visibility channel more than a direct sales channel, at least in the beginning. It earns trust slowly and pays out in relationships and inbound interest rather than immediate transactions. Consignment is worth knowing about as a future option — a local shop or gallery carries your work, handles the foot traffic, and takes a cut, often around forty percent, when something sells. It is borrowed reach, and it can work well once you have a consistent body of work and clear pricing. But it is not where most new sellers need to focus their energy in the first month. The honest move, at least for the first month, is to pick one place to sell, one place to be seen, and one local test. One primary channel where buyers can actually complete a purchase. One visibility channel where the right people start to recognize your name and your work. And one local experiment — a market, a Marketplace listing, a conversation with a shop owner — where you can get real-time feedback without waiting for an algorithm to notice you. Where does Angela already have energy, trust, or local access? That is the right starting point. Not where someone else said she should be, not the channel with the most users or the most impressive success stories, but the one where she can show up consistently without pretending. A channel you resent is not a channel that will work for you, no matter how many people swear by it. The brand consistency she has been building — the name, the tone, the visual mood of the work — travels across all of these channels even when the format changes. A listing title and an Instagram caption are different things, but they should feel like they came from the same person with the same values. That coherence is what makes a buyer who saw the work on Instagram feel confident enough to place an order on Etsy, or to walk up to the market table and say they recognized the style. And that is exactly what happens next. Someone walks up to the table, picks up the cedar sign, and asks a question that changes the shape of the whole conversation: can you make one like this, but with our name on it?