Jennifer Smith

A rental in Tampa, a secondhand car, and a real estate license I paid for in installments. I couldn't afford to make mistakes, so I learned to ask better questions before I opened my mouth.

In 2008, my listings dried up almost overnight. For eleven months, I made almost nothing. I considered going back to a salaried job, but I kept showing up, calling old clients, and learning which properties still made sense when the market didn't.

“Nobody hands you a market. You learn one street at a time, until the whole town calls you first.”

I stopped thinking of myself as someone who sold houses and started advising the people who bought them. Investors weren't looking for someone to unlock doors. They wanted someone who could tell them which doors were worth opening.

Sixteen years. It cost me evenings, weekends, and more Saturdays than I can remember. There were family occasions I missed because a client needed an answer before Monday. I would do it again, but I would try to be more present along the way.

I walk every property myself before giving an opinion. Photos can hide a great deal. Floors, foundations, and the neighborhood at seven in the evening tell you things a listing never will.

Taking a business partner on a handshake in my second year. We liked and trusted each other, so we thought paperwork was unnecessary. We learned the hard way that a clear agreement protects a relationship; it doesn't insult it.

They think it happened quickly. They see the last two years and miss the fourteen that came before them. The result looks sudden only because nobody was watching the difficult years.

Say yes to the hard clients, provided they're honest people. They will teach you more than the easy deals ever will.