Making Money from Stuff You Don't Want

We live in thrifty times. In a week which has been dominated by the Cash-for-Clunkers program, and a year defined by belt-tightening, I thought I'd share a (New York local) guide to making money from the stuff you no longer want.

My newfound wisdom is a result of the practical necessity of lightening my load before I move west. Much as I wanted to believe that the entire contents of my little house should do a three thousand mile road trip, the cost of trucking it all cross-country simply doesn't make sense. I will be bringing quite a bit with me on the journey west, but for the rest....

1. Craigslist, people, craigslist. I have been frankly astonished at the furniture that I have put on craigslist which has sold within 24 hours (sometimes with multiple offers). So far, I've disposed of a sofabed, two wardrobes, a Weber grill and a floor lamp. The lamp was from Ikea, and I actually sold it for more than I paid for it, four years ago! The key to success appears to be a well-written ad, and a decent photo. My net gain to date $270.

2. Edit your bookshelf. How many books do you own that you will never read again? And how many that (quite frankly), you're just never going to read? You know the ones. Rogue holiday gifts that you opened, lied about how happy you were to receive them, and immediately shelved out of sight and out of mind. Or books that were trendy a few years ago, but are already dated. Tom Friedman's The World is Flat fell into that category for me. Dig them up. If they are in good condition, you can sell them at Strand bookstore. Be warned that this is not the route to mega-millions. But you make room for the books you'd really like to read on your shelf, and save your back (or the backs of your movers) when you relocate. My net gain to date (from about 12 books) $25.

3. Donate your clothes. This won't actually net any cold hard cash, but it will make space in your closet, and you can take a tax deduction for things you weren't wearing anyway. If you are a pack rat, and have a lot to donate, the Salvation Army will even come to your door to collect. Expected tax deduction: $50.

4. Be creative. I had a bunch of old binders, left over from the time I ran my own business. I'd been holding on to them thinking that they would come in useful. They haven't. I walked down to the school at the end of my road, who were thrilled (yes, thrilled) to take them. A damning indictment of the funding of New York's public schools, perhaps. One less box to California, definitely.

5. E-mail your friends. You never know who might need some of the things that you are planning on leaving behind. I wanted to hang on to my bed until the very last moment, and thought that would mean that I'd have to leave it on the street. But a friend knew someone who is furnishing an apartment, and promised to come and pick it up, with my dining table, on moving day. Expected net gain: $175.

In my view, the stoop sale is a relic of the 20th century. But according to New York magazine, it can be profitable. For me, spending any part of my last two weekends in New York bargaining over the cost of a U2 CD with random strangers would not make sense.

Instead, I'm planning on visiting Fire Island's Sunken Forest, kayaking on the Hudson, and eating great food. Let the countdown to moving day begin.