The doctor had just gotten married, and his wife detested his house; they wanted to sell it along with most of the furniture in it

Nechama Norman with Batsheva Berman

T

he Levins bought the first house I’d listed, but my first sale was the fisherman’s house.

My kids love fishing, and we had a neighbor who loves fishing, and they used to schmooze with him. One fine day, he posted a “For Sale” sign in his yard. Immediately, the opportunity bells started ringing in my head. I headed over and asked if I could be his seller’s agent.

A seller’s agent means that anyone who wants to buy the house has to go through you. It’s the best option for a realtor because someone will buy the house (and in Lakewood that will probably happen before you blink), so you’re guaranteed a commission. But Fisherman didn’t want an agent. However, he was willing to pay me a commission for finding him a buyer.

I’d been working for the Voice of Lakewood, coordinating their food section. I’d assign articles, get the recipes, run contests. While most of my work was remote, I’d pop into the office once a month or so. I let the staff there know I was moving to Toms River, then told them I was getting a real estate license.

The very week I received my license, I got a call.

“Hi, my name is Rivky Klein, I got your name from Shira from the Voice — her husband is my husband’s chavrusa. We’re looking to buy in your area and our realtor just keeps showing us the same few houses we don’t like. Do you have anything for us?”