Five Tactical Lessons After Hosting 100+ Fireside Chats

microphone, podcast, fireside chat

Over the past 12 months, I’ve done over 100 interviews and fireside chats. While there are the more popular lessons out there, like asking follow-up questions and breaking the ice with your guest with a pre-interview chat or having rapid-fire questions at the end, for the purpose of this blogpost, I’ll be sharing some non-obvious lessons I picked up in the past year.

  1. Never start with a question on career.
  2. Ask your guest three questions before the interview.
  3. Do enough research to be literate in the subject you’re interviewing for.
  4. Prep the audience for questions.
  5. Ask Yes / No questions.

Never start with a question on career.

The first question always sets the stage for the rest of the conversation, especially how vulnerable and candid the guest would be.

The best question in my experience to start with is always a surprise to the guest, as my goal for every interview is to get to know the guest better than they know themselves at that moment in time.

For how you measure success… if that respond with, “How did you know that?”

In practice, it looks a little something like… “I want to start this chat a little off-center. In the process of doing homework for this conversation, I came across the name: Bootstrapping Bill*. Could you share what that name means to you?”

*Footnote: This can be a high school or college nickname or an activity that they were heavily involved in that’s not related to their current career. Or a role model they had when they were younger. Other starter questions can be about quirks they used to have or still have that are:

  1. Not embarrassing
  2. Something that only they have.

For example, for some of my interviewees, I found out:

  • That someone used to write code on a notepad
  • A longtime fandom around Gary Keller
  • A nickname the guest used back in his street dancing days
  • A class they really enjoyed taking in college and an art professor who inspired her to pursue entrepreneurship
  • Someone who used to walk by foot 15 hours one-way just to go to a library in Cairo to download PDFs of Stanford research papers to take home and study

Of course eventually it all has to tie back to the topic at hand, which is usually through a trait they developed early on that created the person they are today. Grit. Creativity. Rebelliousness. Kindness. And so on.

Ask your guest three questions before the interview

To piggyback on the above lesson, don’t touch things that are highly personal and risquรฉ, like their social security number or their divorce. The latter without their explicit permission. You never want to be in the situation where you make the guest feel bad. As such, in my email to them a week in advance with the questions I plan to ask, I ask an additional three questions to help give me parameters for the conversation:

  1. What would make this interview the most memorable one you’ve been a guest for even two years from now?
  2. Are there any topics you don’t want to talk about? Or are sick of talking about?
  3. Are there any questions you have yet to be asked, but wish someone were to ask you?

Of course, also share the questions that you plan to ask before the interview. Leave it up to them whether they want to prepare for them or not. And if you do so, they’re likely to bring more robust and less generic answers for your audience. Unfortunately, not always true depending on the individual you invite and how busy they are.

Do enough research to be literate in the subject you’re interviewing for.

Unfortunately, not every A-lister will bring their A-game. Some have been busy. Others are distracted. And a handful of others frankly just don’t care. For them, this is just another talk they’ve done a million times. Not THE talk of the year. Even if it might be for you.

Luckily, it doesn’t happen too often. But it does happen. And as such, you can’t just ask a question. Instead, I like to give the speaker enough time to think of an answer. I call it the QCQ sandwich.

  1. Start with a QUESTION.
  2. Follow up with CONTEXT.
  3. And close with the initial QUESTION.

I’ll give an example.

“Since you just mentioned LP-manager fit / I want to switch gears for a second… I’d be remiss not to ask you about how you think about it. In your experience, how have you seen the best fund managers think about LP construction when they begin fundraising versus when they’re about to close the fund? To shed some extra color, I’ve recently chatted with a number of emerging GPs. And there seems to be a concentration of thought leadership around… [additional context] So, I’m curious, are you seeing the same? Or have my observations departed from the median?”

Most people either only ask the question or lead with context before asking the question (I’m guilty of the latter myself from time to time).

To be fair, you may not need to use this structure all the time. But for people whose answers are typically less structured and may need some time to formulate a robust answer, this is the play. A proxy for this is if their answers only get better the more they talk or if they haven’t had a chance to look through the questions you sent them beforehand, but they typically like to.

Then there’s the exact opposite. Even if the guest speaker is well-intentioned, in efforts to cram as much info into an answer as possible, their talk becomes overly informational. I forget which world-class podcast host once told me this, but he said that that every episode he does is 20% informational and 80% entertainment. The footnote is that the 20% has to be so insightful that it can carry the episode just by itself. The sign of a good episode is if the listener walks away with at least one thing they didn’t know before.

I go back to Kurt Vonnegut‘s #1 rule on writing. Use the time of a total stranger in such a way that he or she will not feel the time was wasted.

As the MC, your goal is to be the steward for insights. The spotlight is never on you, but the question is how do you support your guest in a way that they’re able to put the best foot forward.

Prep the audience for questions

There are two angles I usually tackle from when prepping the audience for questions.

  1. I tell them exactly what they can ask at the beginning and stay away from those topics so that the audience can ask during Q&A if they have no other questions in mind.
  2. Give the audience time to ramp up questions by alternating between live questions and my prepared questions even in open Q&A.

“We’re going to cover a lot of ground today from [topic 1] to [topic 2] to [topic 3]. But if I don’t get to all of them, and you’re still curious about them, please keep us accountable during the open Q&A after.”

And I usually don’t get to all of the above topics, which leaves room for the audience to ask them. Before I ask my “last” question for the interview, I also tell the audience to the effect of: “This is going to be my last question, before I turn it over to everyone present today. So for anyone who would like to ask X something, in about 3 minutes, it’ll be your time to shine.”

The big takeaway is that it always takes a bit of time for the audience to ramp up to ask their questions. And this helps seed some possible topics not covered in the interview so far, so the guest also feels like they’re not repeating themselves.

Since almost every interview and fireside chat I’ve done has been virtual in the past year, this second tactic is designed when you a Zoom chat but I find is still useful when you have a shy live in-person audience. I always tell the audience to leave questions in the Zoom chat at the beginning of the interview. That I’ll call on them when we get to open Q&A. More often than not, the Zoom chat is less alive than I would like. And when it is (and I admit this has only been a more recent discovery of mine), I say:

“We’re going to try something new. During the open Q&A, I’m going to alternate between questions I’ve gotten before this chat to live questions from the audience. So feel free to pop your questions into chat, as I start with the first pre-submitted question.”

I know some MCs seed audience members to ask questions at the beginning of live Q&A for it to not seem awkward. I’ve seen it work, but sometimes I’ve also seen those 1-2 people take control of the Q&A, where the rest of the audience doesn’t feel like they have the opportunity to ask their own question, so they turn passive. With open Q&A, I try to give my audience agency to determine the flow of conversation. Sometimes, they just need an inspirational nudge.

Ask Yes / No questions

For a long time, I had this fear of asking yes/no questions during fireside chats. The main reason was that I believed it would lead to a lackluster interview. The guest would give a one-word response and that we would have radio silence after.

But, contrary to my initial belief, I realized over the past year that yes/no questions are insanely powerful, specifically in the context of public interviews and fireside chats. I do want to note that they don’t hold the same weight in mediums that are known or sought for their brevity. For instance, emails and instant messaging. Where speed is the name of the game.

It’s specifically under the circumstance where there’s an allotted time and an expectation to fill the void with content that this tactic shines. The guest would more often than not feel an urge to fill the empty void with additional thoughts and context. In that moment, sometimes they share something that is more off-the-record than they initially planned. Of course, in realizing that it is, and since most of my fireside chats are recorded, I follow up with the guest after to make sure they’re okay with the recording.

As an interviewer, at the same time, I’ve learned to hold myself back. There’s an equal if not more powerful urge in me to fill the void with questions. After all, oftentimes, this is the audience in which I had invited, and feel my reputation is on the line. If you could see below the camera, I have a sheet of paper in front of me where I write “Shut up” to myself at least twice before I jump in.

In closing

While I share all the above, just like being a founder, you could do everything right and the interview may still fall short of being ideal. And when some interviews do fall on either deaf ears or I feel I was just unable to bring out the best in people, like many others, I wonder… do I just suck at being at asking questions? Or being an MC?

It’s an iterative process. And the fun part of it all is that it makes me a better investor. I ask founders better questions. The answers I get when diligencing are more valuable.

The above isn’t the end-all-be-all. I’ve written on this topic before, and I will continue to work to be a better interviewer. But hopefully the above serves to bolster your arsenal of tactics.

Photo by Keagan Henman on Unsplash


Edit: Added in a fifth lesson that’s too short for a full blogpost, but longer than a tweet.


Stay up to date with the weekly cup of cognitive adventures inside venture capital and startups, as well as cataloging the history of tomorrow through the bookmarks of yesterday!


Any views expressed on this blog are mine and mine alone. They are not a representation of values held by On Deck, DECODE, or any other entity I am or have been associated with. They are for informational and entertainment purposes only. None of this is legal, investment, business, or tax advice. Please do your own diligence before investing in startups and consult your own adviser before making any investments.

The Eight Rules of Great Pitches

Over the week, I was revisiting some of the Instagram posts that I had saved over the years, and I re-discovered one of my favorites by Christoph Niemann sharing his kudos to the late Kurt Vonnegut.

Most of all, Vonnegut’s advice on writing applies just as much to other forms of storytelling. And if you know me, I was immediately reminded of pitching.

  1. Never waste someone else’s time.
  2. Give the listener someone to root for.
  3. Every character should want something, even if it’s a glass of water.
  4. Every sentence must do one of two things โ€” reveal character or advance the action.
  5. Start as close to the end as possible.
  6. Be a sadist. Show awful things that happened to the characters.
  7. Write to please just one person. Don’t get pneumonia.
  8. Give your readers as much information as possible as soon as possible.

Never waste someone else’s time.

Teach your investor something they didn’t know before.

A lot of investors claim to be experts, and even more are seen as experts. Too often, founders blindly listen to what their investors tell them to do. As Hunter Walk of Homebrew once said, “Never follow your investorโ€™s advice and you might fail. Always follow your investorโ€™s advice and youโ€™ll definitely fail.”

YouTuber Derek Muller just came out with a great video on the ideal variables that manifest expertise. Two of such variables are:

  1. Valid environments – environments that are predictable and have minimal attribution to luck
  2. Quick feedback loops

The problem with venture is that our feedback loops are incredibly long and drawn out. Oftentimes, it takes 7+ years to fully realize any kind of financial outcome, although there are many red herrings of outcomes in between, like new funding, brand-name investors, users (rather than customers, or people who actually pay for your product), mass hirings, and so on. Because our feedback loops are slow and luck plays a huge role in success, it’s hard to differentiate true experts in the field. All that to say, every investor is learning to be better, to have more data, to make better judgments than the next.

And if you can show that you know something worth our time again and again, it’ll be worth paying our tuition money to you.

That said, I don’t want to discount how some investors can be really helpful in particular areas that have valid environments and fast feedback loops. For instance, code, A/B testing distribution strategies, ability to help you raise your next round within a certain timeframe, or get you into Y Combinator. The determinant of success in the afore-mentioned has clear KPIs versus their own financial success in the fund.

Give the listener someone to root for.

Aka you. Why you?

Mike Maples Jr. once said, โ€œWe realize, oh no, this team doesnโ€™t have the stuff to bend the arc of the present to that different future. Because I like to say, itโ€™s not enough. [โ€ฆ] Iโ€™d say thatโ€™s the first mistake weโ€™ve made is we were right about the insight, but we were wrong about the team.โ€

โ€œIโ€™d say the reverse mistake weโ€™ve made is the team just seems awesome, and we just canโ€™t look past the fact that they didnโ€™t articulate good inflections, and they canโ€™t articulate a radically different future. They end up executing to a local maximum, and we have an okay, but not great outcome.โ€

There’s a category of founders that are going to win no matter if an investor chooses to invest or not. Most typically like riding this train. They have to do little to no work to be recognized as a great investor.

Then, there’s the cohort of founders that may or may not win on their current idea, but their investors really, really, really want these founders to win. These founders are the underdogs. They’re also the ones with often the craziest of ideas. Even more so, they’re the ones that if they win, these founders will redefine the world we live in today.

As a founder, you have two jobs when fundraising:

  1. You need to find the partners who really, really want you to win. As the great Tom Landry says, “A coach is someone whoย tells you what you don’t want to hear, who has you see what you don’t want to see, so you can be who you have always known you could be.”
  2. You need to give these partners the ‘why.’

And I promise you that ‘why’ is not because of straight facts, but because of a story. Why should people help you get what you deeply want?

Every character should want something, even if it’s a glass of water.

Speaking of what you deeply want, almost every founder I chat with pitches me their raison d’etre. A selfless reason to cure the world of cancer. Metaphorically speaking, of course. That’s cool. You can tell that to the press. It’ll make great PR.

Rather I care about the exact opposite. What is your selfish motivation? This is a question I personally like asking founders. Your selfless motivation keeps you going during the day, during peace-time, when things are going just right. Your selfish motivation keeps you up at night, when s**t gets tough. When no one else believes in you except for yourself.

I want to know that you want that so badly, that you’re able to go the distance. And if that same thing is something that your investor can relate to, then you have a match made in heaven.

Every sentence must do one of two things โ€” reveal character or advance the action.

Let me revise the above. Every slide must do one of two things โ€” reveal character or advance the action. Anything else is superfluous. That means, outside of your core slides โ€” problem, solution, action plan/financial projections, rising conflict (aka competition, blockers and risks), and your team slide, everything else is superfluous. Or at least, save it for your data room.

I’m sure some investors would debate me on this, but every investor has a slightly different framework. The above is my own perspective. That said, every slide should give an investor 10% more conviction towards investing in your business โ€” capping out at 70%. ‘Cause after 70, any additional information (in the first meeting) has diminishing returns.

Start as close to the end as possible.

No investor cares about which hospital you were born in, but they do care about when the fire first started. And they care about your inflection points, even if that’s still ahead of you.

Be a sadist. Show awful things that happened to the characters.

Grit is one of the hardest founder traits to measure over a 30-minute meeting. Even after prolonged and deliberate interaction, most of the time it’s still hard to grasp this amorphous quality. But if you ask most investors what is the number one trait of a great founder, it’s either grit or passion. The latter of which often serves as a proxy to grit.

If you’re regular here, you know one of my favorite quotes of late is Penn and Teller’s. “Magic is just spending more time on a trick than anyone would ever expect to be worth it.

Past performance is not a predictor of future progress. But it really does help. A lot. In a startup’s lifespan to becoming a leading business, there are 10-15 trials by fire. And for each one of those, the founders are required to pull off nothing short of a miracle. In fact, this next year will be exactly one of those tribulations for 99.9% of companies.

So, show moments in your life where you were able to pull off a miracle. And a miracle, by definition, is when the odds are heavily stacked against you.

Show excellence. Walk your listeners โ€” your investors โ€” through the journey of how you tasted glory. How you were able to achieve the seemingly impossible. Personally, this is why I love backing professional athletes, veterans, and chefs. Three fields (of, I’m sure, many more) that you really need to eat s**t to be one of the greats.

Write to please just one person. Don’t get pneumonia.

Every pitch should be tailored. Why would this investor be the best dollar for your cap table?

No investor (even if it’s true) wants to be just another investor. They want to be THE investor. Make them feel special. When you propose to your partner for marriage, you tell them why they’re the one for you, not why you’re the one for them. You get down on one knee and tell them why they are amazing. Not the other way around.

Give your readers as much information as possible as soon as possible.

The one-liner matters. It is the first point of interaction with your startup, and oftentimes, may be the last. Don’t shroud it in mystery and jargon. If you’re ever stuck here, remember Brandon Sanderson‘s First Law of Magic:

Your ability to solve problems with magic in a satisfying way is directly proportional to how well the reader understands said magic.

Equally so, the subject line of a cold outreach email serves the same purpose. This is especially true, when you’re reaching out to someone who you can reasonably assume has hundreds of emails in their inbox per week. For reference, and for the most part I’m a nobody compared to the partners at a16z of Lightspeed or Benchmark, and I get about 50 cold inbounds per week.

So, in my opinion, your subject line should have no buzzwords (well, because everyone’s using them). Think of it this way. Say you’re an author selling your new self-help book. And say your greatest distribution channel are likely bookstores in airports. If everyone in the self-help section has an orange cover with bold blue words, you want to be the one black and white cover book. And if everyone has black and white sleeves, you bring out the neons.

In the context of email subject lines, instead, you should include numbers. What is the one metric that you are killing it at? Just like what I recommend folks write in their email forwardables. Instead of “Invest in the Leading BNPL Solution in Latam”, use “BNPL startup growing 50% MoM”. Give the exact reason why your investor should be excited to invest in your company. Don’t save it behind eight clicks โ€” Email, Docsend link, and another six clicks to get to the slide of importance.

People can only tell different, not better, unless it’s 10x. Mediocrity is a crowded market, so don’t waste your time there. Taking a quote out of Pat Riley‘s book, “You donโ€™t wanna be the best at what you do; you wanna be the only one who does what you do.”

In closing

Storytelling is an emotional discovery. The facts don’t change, but a great pitch or story weaves seemingly disparate facts into a compelling narrative. One that inspires action and draws curiosity. In a saturated world of attention, you are fighting for minutes if not seconds of someone’s time. Make it valuable.

Photo by Daniel Schludi on Unsplash


Stay up to date with the weekly cup of cognitive adventures inside venture capital and startups, as well as cataloging the history of tomorrow through the bookmarks of yesterday!


Any views expressed on this blog are mine and mine alone. They are not a representation of values held by On Deck, DECODE, or any other entity I am or have been associated with. They are for informational and entertainment purposes only. None of this is legal, investment, business, or tax advice. Please do your own diligence before investing in startups and consult your own adviser before making any investments.

#unfiltered #67 How To Make Writing Easy For Those Struggling

writing

A founder looking to write more long-form recently asked me, “What does your writing process look like?” As I was sharing my long answer to her short question, I realized, “Holy f**k, my writing process sure has evolved over the past few years.” In an effort to encase my current thoughts in amber, I find myself transcribing thoughts from gray matter to illegible scribblings. And from a 180-grams-per-meter-squared canvas to a two-dimensional electronic screen once again.

A trip down memory lane

I remember when my friend first asked me, “How are you able to commit to a weekly writing schedule? Aren’t you busy enough?” And I shared a secret with him. Something that one of my mentors shared with me.

Before officially starting my blog, I wrote 10 essays – a Plan B in case I ever went through a dry spell. Knowing I had the comfort of a cheat week and still having content to put out gave me the courage to continue writing every week. Almost three years later, of those 10 initial pieces, I’ve only two of the afore-mentioned. In the world of content creation, there’s a massive graveyard of creators who never make it past 10 pieces of content – be it blogposts, podcast episodes, YouTube videos, and so on. I would know. I started 3 blogs before this one. For each of the three prior to this one, I have an epitaph that made it to five or less posts.

The evolution of process

In my first year, I usually spent time conceiving a blogpost at night when I found myself to be the most creative, and editing the same one in the morning before the rooster cried to the awakening sun, when I found myself free of distraction and in peak efficiency. Yet despite a greatly industrialized process, one consistent theme throughout 2019 and 2020 was regret from publishing an essay too soon. There were multiple cases where I’d stumble on new, yet relevant information often within hours of publishing. In fact, this gnawing yarn of remorse reached such a level of prowess that I was re-editing blogposts by the paragraph on a monthly basis. Sorry to all of my early subscribers. Good news is you have your very own limited edition copies of David-jumped-the gun-again.

And so I started delaying my publishing schedules – to account for this sense of continual regret. In my current phase, I break down writing into three phases:

  1. Time to create
  2. Time to ruminate
  3. Time to edit

Time to create

One of my friends once told me the secret to creativity is to “give your brain time to be bored.” DJ, one of the most creative people I know, having worked to create some of the most iconic animations we know today during his time at Cartoon Network and Lucasfilm, and now a YouTuber with over half a million subscribed, once shared with me, “Creativity is a residue of time wasted.”

When I asked him to unpack that statement, he said, “Good ideas are gifts from the universe โ€“ fish that swim in that river. All you have to do is learn how to reach up and fish for them. And just like fishing, if you stick around long enough โ€“ if youโ€™re patient enough, youโ€™ll be able to catch a few. But you never know what fish youโ€™ll reel in. Just that you will.”

And he’s right. The more time you spend moving or doing, the less bandwidth your brain has to explore new possibilities. The nuance here is not to block some amount of time every day to ideate. In fact, if you’ll allow me to be brutally honest, while it is giving yourself time to be bored, it’s too structured. And by definition, creativity, like DJ mentioned, is unstructured thinking. Subsequently, blocked time often creates unnecessary stress and anxiety to create. Especially when your mind is drawing blanks and you’re on a clock.

Instead, allocate time immediately after your brain has been given 10 or more minutes to be bored. For example, after you take a shower. Or go on a 30-minute run. Or a 20-minute power nap. Simply, even going on a 20+ minute walk helps your brain re-center and refresh. And always, always write down your ideas. No matter how awesome or lame you think it is. The more you practice the art of ideating, the more consistently better your ideas will be. Not saying that I’m the most creative person out there, but I still have “trash” ideas every so often, but at a far less frequency than when I started.

Time to ruminate

If you’ve ever bought a new car – for the sake of this essay, a black Toyota Camry – as soon as you buy it, you start noticing more black Toyota Camry’s on the street. In fact, you’ll start being able to identify the 2022 versions versus the 2021 or the 2016 ones. A combination of recency bias and confirmation bias. The same holds if you go to a new restaurant, you’ll start noticing that it pops up more in conversations with friends or as you’re scrolling through Instagram.

On the same side of the token, once you seed an idea in your brain (or better, on paper), you start realizing, there is more content and discourse in the world about said idea than you once thought. In the time I spend between creating and editing, I stumble upon or (re)discover articles, podcasts, conversations, experts in my network, just to name a few, when I give my brain time to ruminate.

I like to visualize the scene from Ratatouille when Remy is savoring the individual and collective flavors of the strawberry and cheese, unlike his brother Emile who gorges food down without a second thought. Whereas Emile loses the magic of culinary world, Remy sees what no rat has been able to enjoy prior. Simply put, be Remy! Savor your thoughts.

Time to edit

For me, editing has become the easiest, yet hardest part of writing. All I have to do is string together words and thoughts. I have all the biggest pieces on paper already, but formatting, grammar, punctuation, you name it, feels just like busy work, especially where there are so many more productive things I could be doing.

So, time to edit is akin to time to be inspired. As such, there are two takeaways I’ve learned about myself over the past three years:

  1. I edit in the early morning or late at night. No one will ping me (usually). There is no urgency to respond. Simply, no distractions.
  2. I have a Google doc (which I might share one day, but as of now, it’s a hot mess) that includes all the pieces of content that has, in the past, inspired me to feel a distinct emotion. I use this library of emotions when the content I am creating (blogpost, email, pitch deck feedback, replying to a friend who’s in a rut) requires empathy. For example…
    1. If I want to feel sad, Thai life insurance commercials are my go-to 5-minute sadness augmenters. Here’s one of my favorites.
    2. For insecurity, I like to revisit Neil Gaiman’s short blogpost on imposter syndrome.
    3. For pure inspiration and drive, Remember the Name or any of Eminem’s songs.

In closing

While I don’t timebox myself in this 3-step process, on average, writing a blogpost takes me about two to three weeks. In case your curious, any blogpost where I lead with a sentence that includes “recently” instead of a set time probably took a few weeks to come to fruition.

In effect, writing never feels like a chore. Rather, it’s inspired. Inspiring. Uplifting. And de-stressing.

Photo by John Jennings on Unsplash


#unfiltered is a series where I share my raw thoughts and unfiltered commentary about anything and everything. Itโ€™s not designed to go down smoothly like the best cup of cappuccino youโ€™ve ever had (although hereโ€˜s where I found mine), more like the lonely coffee bean still struggling to find its identity (which also may one day find its way into a more thesis-driven blogpost). Who knows? The possibilities are endless.


Stay up to date with the weekly cup of cognitive adventures inside venture capital and startups, as well as cataloging the history of tomorrow through the bookmarks of yesterday!


Any views expressed on this blog are mine and mine alone. They are not a representation of values held by On Deck, DECODE, or any other entity I am or have been associated with. They are for informational and entertainment purposes only. None of this is legal, investment, business, or tax advice. Please do your own diligence before investing in startups and consult your own adviser before making any investments.

#unfiltered #64 An Intellectual Renaissance

โ€œGood writing is always about things that are important to you, things that are scary to you, things that eat you up. But the writing is a way of not allowing those things to destroy you.โ€
โ€” John Edgar Wideman

I go through these sinusoidal episodes where I write about my journey as a person. A world where things just aren’t perfect. And I, like everyone else who graces this planet, am struggling to find where I fit in the world. And when I’m swimming in the depths of self-discovery, I find that for an audience of entrepreneurs and investors, I really haven’t written much about my discoveries and re-discoveries in the wonderful land of innovation. The other half of it is for my fear of knowledge atrophy.

And so, I spend back to back to back weeks writing about the inner workings and the robust mental models of some of the world’s top intellectual athletes. Then in hindsight, once again, I realize that my blog begins to read just like any other business blog – any other startup, VC, tech blog – out there. And I fear that I’ve lost my voice. So, I re-embark on a literary path of introspection and growth.

The great Charlie Kaufman once said about his time on Adam Resnick’s show, Get a Life, “Adam Resnick’s scripts were the best on the show. And we all tried to write in Adam’s voice. That was the job. And I was frustrated with my results. But it occurred to me that there was no solution to this problem as long as my job was to imitate someone else’s voice. I can maybe get close but I was never going to get better at it than Adam.

“The obvious solution was not to throw my hands up but try to find myself in a situation where I was doing me, not someone else. Do you. It isn’t easy, but it’s essential. It’s not easy because there’s a lot in the way. In many cases, a major obstacle is your deeply seated belief that ‘you’ is not interesting. And since convincing yourself that you are interesting is probably not going to happen, take it off the table. Agree.

“Perhaps I’m not interesting, but I am the only thing I have to offer. And I want to offer something. And by offering myself in a true way, I am doing a great service to the world. Because it is rare and it will help. As I move through time, things change. I change. The world changes. The way the world sees me changes.”

As a product of what I can only describe as a game of tug-of-war between my right and left brain, I start many essays and unfortunately, lose interest half-way through writing them. As such, I’ve amassed a far-reaching graveyard of zombie posts. Eclectic, disparate monologues. Neither fully alive nor fully dead. Some may see a phoenixlike revival. Others may forever rest as vestigial drafts until Indiana Jones excavates them.

But nevertheless, the act of writing to think – to express – hones my mind like a whetstone to a kitchen knife. The more I do so, the sharper I get. Yet too much so, without application, renders the act of sharpening useless.

A few days back, I stumbled across a fascinating tweet on atrophy and hypertrophy.

There are many things in life that atrophy over time – knowledge, skills, presence. Yet there are a handful of things that hypertrophy – brain, demand for proof, and space, just to name a few. For me, writing exists in both categories. Like most skills, it is perishable. Yet the more I see, hear, and learn, the more I demand to myself that I need to put pen on paper. A personal intellectual renaissance.

Photo by รgatha Depinรฉ on Unsplash


#unfiltered is a series where I share my raw thoughts and unfiltered commentary about anything and everything. Itโ€™s not designed to go down smoothly like the best cup of cappuccino youโ€™ve ever had (although hereโ€˜s where I found mine), more like the lonely coffee bean still struggling to find its identity (which also may one day find its way into a more thesis-driven blogpost). Who knows? The possibilities are endless.


Stay up to date with the weekly cup of cognitive adventures inside venture capital and startups, as well as cataloging the history of tomorrow through the bookmarks of yesterday!


Any views expressed on this blog are mine and mine alone. They are not a representation of values held by On Deck, DECODE, or any other entity I am or have been associated with. They are for informational and entertainment purposes only. None of this is legal or investment advice. Please do your own diligence before investing in startups and consult your own adviser before making any investments.

DGQ 12: What is play to you but work to everyone else?

children playing, not work

What is play to you but work to everyone else? Or said differently, what do you love doing that many others would hate or get bored of quickly?

This isn’t an original self-query. I want to say I heard it years ago on one of Tim Ferriss’ episodes, but the exact one escapes me. Yet, recently, my friends and colleagues remind me of this more and more. In the ultimate shortage of labor, more than ever before, people are rethinking what career means to them and what a meaningful career means. I’ve had friends become full-time live streamers, NFT creators, inventors, fiction novelists, artisans… you name it, and I bet you someone that I know – hell someone you know – has dabbled or jumped head-first into it. It truly is the era of the Great Resignation.

Now this question isn’t a call to arms to leave whatever you’re doing. Rather a direction of clarity that may help you live a more enriching life. Something to pursue in your down time. Until you can find a way to get paid to do so – unless you happen to have 20-30 years of runway from previous riches. The same is true if you’re an aspiring founder. Work on your project part-time, until you are ready to take it full-time either with investment capital or revenue.

For me, the answer to the above question is:

  • Writing (to think)
  • Meeting, and more specifically, learning from passionately curious and curiously passionate people (what can I say, I’m a glutton for inspiration)
  • Becoming a world-class questioner (you’ve probably guessed this one from the DGQ series)
  • Collecting quotes and phrasings that resonate (a few of which are repeat offenders on my blog)
  • Helping people realize their dreams (something that was much easier when I only had 20 friends, but much harder when I’m adding zeros to the right)

Many of the above have become synonymous with my job description over the years. Did I predict I would fall into venture capital? No. Frankly, it was a result of serendipity and staying open-minded to suggestions from people I really respect.

While this may come off as virtue signaling, to me, I’m willing to, did lose, and continue to lose sleep over each and every one of the above activities. And if I know anything about myself, my goalposts are likely to change over time. Not drastically, but fine-tuned over time.

Photo by Robert Collins on Unsplash


The DGQ series is a series dedicated to my process of question discovery and execution. When curiosity is the why, DGQ is the how. It’s an inside scoop of what goes on in my noggin’. My hope is that it offers some illumination to you, my readers, so you can tackle the world and build relationships with my best tools at your disposal. It also happens to stand for damn good questions, or dumb and garbled questions. I’ll let you decide which it falls under.


Subscribe to more of my shenaniganery. Warning: Not all of it will be worth the subscription. But hey, itโ€™s free. But even if you donโ€™t, you can always come back at your own pace.

v26.0

I spent the majority of my 25th year of being alive in 2021. A year of Yes’s. A year of unexpected surprises created by increasing the surface area in which luck can stick. And by transitive property, I intentionally opened myself up for exploration. Some might call them distractions. For me, they were the scenic route. A route that may or may not change the final destination. But I will only know the robust or flawed nature of my initial destination if I take Highway 101.

And quite expectedly, I said “Yes” to projects that would push me past my “limits.” In foresight, scary. Might I say, fearfully challenging, plagued with self-doubt. Yet, just one question kept pushing me forward while I sought the comfort of being a blanket burrito.

What if this were easy?

Synonymously, if I were the world’s leading expert on this topic, how would I approach this? Not only tactically, but also emotionally. Or oftentimes, lack thereof.

In hindsight, I usually realize I had handicapped myself with training wheels all these years. I am nevertheless proud to say I would have surprised the me on the cusp of 25 years young more than twice given this past year.

This year will continue to be a year of Yes. And, I will undoubtedly continue to surprise myself. Shock will continue to be my currency of growth. Not from others, but by myself.

I have spent a lot of time thinking whether annual goals are the best forms of motivation for a myopic human like myself. I have given into short-term gratification more often than I can count. This past year, the near-term “Yes” is closely correlated with fried chicken and hojicha. Sorry, they are my Kryptonite. It’s unfortunate that my mom dipped me into the Styx holding both rather than just one of my heels.

If I hadn’t gone through my birthday resolutions of my 25th year I wouldn’t be here today. And it wouldn’t have led to the v26.0 software update as it stands.

My latest software update

As such, by 27, I will have spent at least twice a week getting into the flow state – inspired and courtesy of my colleague Edgar Brown. What is the flow state? As one of my good buddies describes it, “the flow state is a state you enter when you feel the most alive and creative. You’re 100% immersed in the activity you’re doing. It’s a completely egoless state. You don’t care – and frankly, forget – about what other people say. Yet after going through the flow state, your ego strengthens and becomes part of your identity.”

Of a similar vein, creativity is also very much a luxury I would like to indulge in more, shackled only by my minor, but noticeable discomfort with idle time. An unfortunate byproduct of my occupational hazard, otherwise known as “hustle porn” as Alexis Ohanian of Reddit fame so elegantly describes it. In year 26, I will have found profound solace in cold silence, where one would find comfort in the absence of speech, as opposed to hot silence – silence that is awkward. And in these weekly cold silent flow states, I hope to better identify my own signal amidst the noise.

In closing

Before this essay sounds any more like a wannabe doctorate dissertation, I hope that in writing this for the public eye, I can better hold myself accountable for my goals.

I hope there will be no consecutive offenders to my resolution list. Since it’ll mean that after a year, I still haven’t broken into the habit I want to build for myself. And it’s that delta between promise and reality that’ll have me going back to the drawing board again. And if you ever see that there are, this blog will keep me honest for failing on my promise to myself. While I imagine there will be repeat offenders by product of growth-inspired oscillations, I am at the end of the day a constant work-in-progress.


Stay up to date with the weekly cup of cognitive adventures inside venture capital and startups, as well as cataloging the history of tomorrow through the bookmarks of yesterday!

DGQ 10: Questions Should Not Be Perfect

perfect questions, reflection

Straight off the bat, you might have realized that the 10th issue of the DGQ series – damn good questions – starts off with a non-question. And it is intentional by design. I often waste a number of calories constructing the perfect question. And in many ways, I get very, very close to what I deem as perfection. Exhibit A, B, and C.

But over the course of constructing the perfect question and its subsequent research, I often uncover the answer I am seeking… before I even ask it to the intended designee. I don’t mean for the odd question here and there amidst spontaneous conversation. But the predestined ones to be asked in:

  • Fireside chats
  • Intro conversations
  • Coffee chats with individuals where I’m punching above my weight class
  • Podcast interviews
  • Social experiments
  • First dates (possibly self-incriminating)

Accompanied by the excuse of creating conversation, I ask it despite the since-acquired knowledge. Sometimes to the wonder and amazement of the recipient, but more often than not to the boredom of myself. While the words that flutter out of my mouth may sound like a question, it ends up merely being a statement rearranged on a NY Times crossword puzzle.

In reframing questions for myself, I realized… If I knew all the answers to the questions I would ask, that’d make for quite a boring life. While boredom only surfaced a minority of the time, it occurred noticeably enough times. If I had a mirror to myself every time I asked a question, I imagine I would find myself asking the ones I have the answers to already with a furrowed brow.

Last year, in the relentless pursuit of being a better host for structured conversations, I over-optimized for shock and delightful surprise. Shock became my unfortunate currency for my personal delight. Rather than enlightenment, education, and inspiration. In the construction of the “perfect question,” while protecting my downside – in terms of embarrassment, I capped my upside.

So, this essay is a reminder to myself. Ask dumb questions. It’s okay. It’s only by reinventing yourself again and again through the ashes of unintentional ignorance can you rise like a phoenix.

I’m reminded of a quote by quite a contrarian philosopher, Karl Popper, but nevertheless quite appropriate here. “Good tests kill flawed theories; we remain alive to guess again.”

If you’re reading this essay, be prepared for a lot more dumb questions from me. Dumb, not garbled. Dumb and simple. I’ll continue to do my homework before conversations. But if I’ve found the answer already, I’m going to keep myself accountable to either find new questions or cancel the meeting. Cheers to the motif of exploration! And I’ll see you where I cannot foresee.

Photo by Faye Cornish on Unsplash


The DGQ series is a series dedicated to my process of question discovery and execution. When curiosity is the why, DGQ is the how. It’s an inside scoop of what goes on in my noggin’. My hope is that it offers some illumination to you, my readers, so you can tackle the world and build relationships with my best tools at your disposal. It also happens to stand for damn good questions, or dumb and garbled questions. I’ll let you decide which it falls under.


Subscribe to more of my shenaniganery. Warning: Not all of it will be worth the subscription. But hey, itโ€™s free. But even if you donโ€™t, you can always come back at your own pace.

#unfiltered #63 How To Be Selfish To Be Selfless

Back in my sophomore year of college, I was running to be the vice president of a business organization. Part of the requirement to run as one was to shadow at least two executives from previous generations who held the same role. Brownie points if you shadowed the broader executive team as well. The goal was to better prepare yourself by increasing the context you had about a new role.

I checked off those boxes with flying colors. In fact I ended up talking to more than 20 other executives and other key campus constituents we would be interfacing with. Along the way, I shared what I would do, not do, and do differently compared to previous roles. I also told them how I would forever change the organization and its impact on campus and students. Frankly, I felt like I was a on a roll. I was on top of the world.

Yet one winter night (it’s always the winter nights that get you), when I was on my haughty high horse, one person stopped me in my tracks. With one simple question. “What is your selfish motivation?”

“I’m going to change…”

“No, David… what is your selfish motivation?

Flash-forward

Last week, one of my favorite hustlers reached out to me. She was planning to start a newsletter soon and wanted some advice from a fellow writer. After a few exchanges asynchronously, it became apparent that her biggest obstacle was keeping to a schedule. If you’re a frequenter here, you’ll have noticed I’ve already lost all semblance of a schedule other than publishing weekly. Some weeks I publish on Mondays. Others on Tuesdays. Some weeks see two essays. Others only one. But I have yet to lose my streak of publishing weekly. But I digress.

There’s a large graveyard filled with content creators who post ten or less times. Off the cuff, I dare say 90%. Prior to this blog, two of my other blogs were also no stranger to the obituary.

So, I posed the same question that stumped me all those years back. What is your selfish motivation?

What is your selfish motivation?

Most people, especially in the realm of entrepreneurship, job interviews, politics, and PR stunts, share their selfless motivations. Everyone’s a Samaritan. While there is some truth to it, everyone needs a really good selfish motivation.

On your best days, if your project is doing really well and you’re absolutely crushing it, your selfless motivation will be what you tell the latest press release, your cousins over the holidays – the story you pitch to others. The story you also tell yourself to give your job meaning. But on your worst days, when you want to give up, your selfish motivation is what’ll keep you going. When you’re at your worst, you won’t want to care for others. You care about yourself. What’ll keep you sane? If your selfish North Star isn’t strong enough, it’s easy to give up.

You need both. Your selfless motivation will help you reach for the stars. Your selfish motivation will prevent you from hitting rock bottom.

For example, for this blog, my selfless motivations are:

  1. Democratizing access to resources and education to help people move the world’s economy forward,
  2. Empowering founders to not fall through the same potholes I or other founders fell through – to make new mistakes not old, and
  3. Empowering and inspiring others to live more enriching lives.

It’s what I tell others. My lofty goal that’ll make writing this blog meaningful to me.

On the other hand, my selfish motivations are:

  1. I write to think. My thoughts are so much clearer on paper than if I just speak them. If I don’t write things down, I’m a mess.
  2. I forget things easily. Short term memory loss. And my blog is a way for me to catalogue my own learnings.
  3. I feel much more comfortable being vulnerable with strangers than with friends. So my blog helps me relieve much of my stress and anxiety.
  4. I am neither as good as people say I am nor as bad as people say I am. This blog keeps me honest.

In closing

That same winter night was the day of the winter equinox. I don’t mean to dramatize my little anecdote, but I nevertheless I do find it provides a little flavor to the story.

“No, David… what is your selfish motivation?”

“I don’t follow.”

“I ask every officer candidate this question. There will be days that you will hate the job more than you will love it. And I need to know if you have it in you to weather those days.”

I don’t remember what I told him that night. I don’t think it was a particularly honest answer. Or maybe I was honest. But it wasn’t enough. I didn’t get his vote of confidence, but I did enough legwork to get the approval of others.

In the end, I got the position. And he was right. Times got tough. There were days I hated the job. And on those days, in particular, I didn’t do anything remotely close to “changing the organization and its impact on campus.”

In his words, I wasn’t selfish enough.

Photo by Ian Chen on Unsplash


#unfiltered is a series where I share my raw thoughts and unfiltered commentary about anything and everything. Itโ€™s not designed to go down smoothly like the best cup of cappuccino youโ€™ve ever had (although hereโ€˜s where I found mine), more like the lonely coffee bean still struggling to find its identity (which also may one day find its way into a more thesis-driven blogpost). Who knows? The possibilities are endless.


Stay up to date with the weekly cup of cognitive adventures inside venture capital and startups, as well as cataloging the history of tomorrow through the bookmarks of yesterday!

2021 Year in Review

Kintsugi.

The Japanese art of finding beauty in imperfection. More specifically, the art of mending broken pottery. Kintsugi finds an object’s value and beauty is a result of its imperfections, rather than the lack thereof.

Much like the year prior, and like for most, 2021 was a year of imperfections. What could have gone wrong went wrong. And what could have been weighed heavily on many people’s minds. It’s been a trying year for almost everyone. From Delta to Omicron, from the insurrection in January to military withdrawal from Afghanistan, from forest fires to the increase in crime in the Bay Area. Despite still wrestling with the constraints imposed by the pandemic and the broader socio-political-economic world, 2021 was the worst and best year I could have ever hoped for. The beauty was not that these events happened, but that these events led us to form deeper relationships, greater awareness for macro issues, and a general movement forward to change what hasn’t and will not work in tomorrow’s world. Simply put, I’ve never been more bullish on being human.

This year was the year of saying “Yes.” In contrast to my track record of regressing to “No.” And so far, I’m on a roll. That also means that I’m busier than ever. Nevertheless, because of my intentionality behind finding serendipitous moments in my life, I’ve had the pleasure of finding myself in a constant state of inspiration. To quote one of my good friends, who’ll appear in a blogpost soon enough: “Inspiration is the disciplined pursuit of unrelated [and unexpected] inputs.”

I wrote almost 90,000 words this year, excluding this blogpost, which for better or for worse, means I wrote just enough to fill the average nonfiction book and a half. In terms of the number of blogposts and words I’ve written, I’ve slipped in comparison to last year. Last year, I minted over 100 essays. And this year, I’m 20% shyer in quantity on both fronts. Yet, while recency bias may play a role, I’ve never been prouder of the content I’ve put out. Fundamentally, what I learned is that I have to take longer per blogpost.

My writing journey pre-2021

In 2019 and 2020, I took pride in minting a blogpost in under 24 hours at best. 48 hours at worst. I would start writing each piece during the night, right after my shower. Go to sleep. And finish editing the next morning before publishing.

Under those circumstances, while there were a number of pieces that I am still proud to have written to this date, there were many that would have been orders of magnitude better if I just let it sit for a few days longer. If I just let the content marinate a bit longer.

… In 2021

This year, unintentionally, I did just that. It started with a steep ramp up in my day-to-day schedule, rendering me unable to commit large chunks of time to sit down, write and edit. On average, each piece took 5-7 days before it went from conception to presentation. Of course, a small handful took 2-4 weeks. Equally so, there were a few on the other end of the spectrum that took less than 24 hours. But the more time I gave myself to think about each piece, the more robust each piece became. So, my process evolved as a function of my schedule.

Today, at least twice a week, I still allocate two hours to sit down, write and edit. I still find my creativity at its height right before I hit the haystack. And I still make the bulk of my edits in the morning. But I also give myself time to be bored. Time to just think with no intended purpose or goal, when I take long drives or in the shower or during a morning exercise routine. And as long as there seems to be a strong correlation between time to be bored and my creative output, I’ll continue this process in the foreseeable future.

2021’s Most Popular

Essays published in 2021, ranked by most views:

  1. How to Pitch VCs Without Ever Having to Send the Pitch Deck – One of the most insightful lessons I learned this year from an incredible serial founder. And especially useful for founders who don’t have a pre-existing investor network.
  2. Rolling Funds and the Emerging Fund Manager – A deeper dive to AngelList’s Rolling Funds and what that means for the emerging manager. Since then, I have learned some new insights on that front, which I’ll include in a future blogpost. That said, as an addendum to this blogpost, while much easier to raise capital from accredited investors, do beware of vintage quarters, especially for LPs. If you miss out on a quarter where the GP makes an incredible investment, you miss out on the carry there.
  3. Should you get an MBA as a founder? – Admittedly, this one’s ranking came as a surprise to me, but in hindsight, I know many founders, and professionals in general, wrestle with the pros and cons of advancement education as a means of career development.
  4. #unfiltered #57 True Vulnerability Is Messy – I’ve hosted a number of social experiments as well as vulnerability circles, but it wasn’t till my conversation with my good friend, Sam, that I realized what true vulnerability meant. Not the kind that’s been romanticized by Silicon Valley and the wider media.
  5. My Top Founder Interview Questions That Fly Under The Radar – Investors rarely share their rolodex of questions with founders. And understandably with good reason. But I’ve never been one to optimize for ‘gotcha’ moments. If you’re building a business that the world needs, the last thing you should be worried about is what kind of curveball questions investors can ask you. In this piece, I share my top 9 questions (outside of the usual few every investor asks) and my rationale behind each.
  6. The Smoke Signals of a Great Startup From the Lens of the Pitch Deck – From the perspective of an investor, I break down the foci points on the pitch deck depending on what stage your startup is fundraising at.
  7. Losing is Winning w/ Jeep Kline, General Partner at Translational Partners and Venture Partner at MrPink VC – One of my more contrarian posts from the insights of Jeep. What makes seemingly no sense at first glance carries a lot more depth than meets the eye.
  8. How to Find Product-Market Fit From Your Pricing Strategy – The broader business world has always found PMF through some cousin of the NPS score and/or usage metrics. While those are still extremely pertinent, I find it illuminating to view PMF through leading indicators like pricing, rather than lagging indicators, like usage.
  9. 14 Reasons For Me Not to Source This Deal – One of my more tongue-in-cheek posts about founder red flags. I imagine a large contributor to its current ranking is due to the fact that my buddy, DC, reposted this on his blog as well.
  10. #unfiltered #56 How Thirteen Technology and Thought Leaders Break Down Self-Doubt – One of my favorite blogposts I wrote this year, written during one of my most emotionally-turmoiled times. These 13 were my North Stars, when I found it hard to see the night sky. Hopefully, they might serve as yours in some capacity as well.

All-Time Most Popular

All the essays I’ve ever written, ranked by most views:

  1. 10 Letters of Thanks to 10 People who Changed my Life – Every year, during the holiday season, I write a plethora of letters of thanks to the people who changed my life in my short years of being alive so far. I wrote this piece back in 2019 sharing what I wrote word-for-word publicly for the first time. I never expected this essay alone to account for a plurality of your views. This is the only one of my now 200 blogposts that draws in readership almost every day since its inception. In 2021 alone, this one blogpost accounts for over a third of this blog’s viewership. The power law is truly incredible.
  2. #unfiltered #30 Inspiration and Frustration โ€“ The Honest Answers From Some of the Most Resilient People Going through a World of Uncertainty – Part one of two, where I ask 42 world-class professionals about their greatest motivators. I ask them two questions, but the catch is they’re only allowed to answer one of them.
  3. How to Pitch VCs Without Ever Having to Send the Pitch Deck – I imagine this one will be a repeat offender on this list. Time will tell.
  4. My Cold Email โ€œTemplateโ€ – I’ve had the fortune of meeting some of the most respectable people in the world and in their respective industries. Many of whom I met through a cold email. In this essay, I share my playbook as to how I did and do so.
  5. The Third Leg of the Race – An oldie, but a goodie. This notion is as true now as it was when I wrote it last year. The third leg of the race is always the hardest, but it’s the one that’ll decide if you win or lose.

My most memorable pieces in 2021

Because of this blog, I’ve had the chance to share my voice and thoughts, yet also pick the brains of some of the most brilliant people in the world. So I hesitate to even rank my favorites ’cause almost every blogpost I write has a special place in my heart. Nevertheless, if I had to pick and if I’m being honest, there are a handful that would go on my personal Mount Rushmore this year. In no particular order…

Photo by Riho Kitagawa on Unsplash


Stay up to date with the weekly cup of cognitive adventures inside venture capital and startups, as well as cataloging the history of tomorrow through the bookmarks of yesterday!

DGQ 9: If your house were burning down right now, minus your phone and laptop, if you could only carry just one more item, what would be that item you would save from the fire?

christmas, gift, present

This isn’t a new question. I’m sure most of you have heard of this question before. But recently, I realized how powerful this question is when you need an answer or answers for this time of the year.

You guessed it. It’s the season of giving. And holy frick, finding gifts to give during Secret Santa and to your loved ones is often much more of a dilemma than it should be. I know I’m not alone in that sentiment since the above question transpired as a result of the shared camaraderie my friends and I felt in choosing gifts. The more gifts you are expected to give, the more anxiety you exponentially feel.

So without giving away too much and to keep the element of surprise, I found this question immensely useful.

If your house were burning down right now, minus your phone and laptop, if you could only carry just one more item, what would be that item you would save from the fire?

You can always increase the quantity of items someone can save from the fire.

Some people give practical answers, which ends up being a rough proxy that they will appreciate more functional gifts.

Some people give answers with sentimental value. These individuals will enjoy gifts that have a backstory to them. The gifts don’t have to be expensive, but they carry significant value if they:

  • They come from the heart. Or…
  • They cost you an arm and a leg to get. Your gifts were the product of a journey where you went above and beyond.

Either way, the gift needs to be accompanied with a heartfelt card.

Hopefully, if you’re stuck without ideas this holiday season, this short blogpost might offer some inspiration.

Photo by Joshua Lam on Unsplash


The DGQ series is a series dedicated to my process of question discovery and execution. When curiosity is the why, DGQ is the how. It’s an inside scoop of what goes on in my noggin’. My hope is that it offers some illumination to you, my readers, so you can tackle the world and build relationships with my best tools at your disposal. It also happens to stand for damn good questions, or dumb and garbled questions. I’ll let you decide which it falls under.


Subscribe to more of my shenaniganery. Warning: Not all of it will be worth the subscription. But hey, itโ€™s free. But even if you donโ€™t, you can always come back at your own pace.