One of my favorite equations that I’ve come across over the last few years is:
(track record) X (differentiation) / (complexity) = fund size
I’ve heard from friends in two organizations independently (Cendana Capital and General Catalyst), but I don’t know who the attribution traces back to. Just something about the simplicity of it. That said, ironically, for the purpose of this blogpost, I want to expand on the complexity portion of the equation. Arguably, for many LPs, the hardest part of venture capital as an asset class, much less emerging managers, to underwrite. Much of which is inspired by Brandon Sanderson’s latest series of creative writing lectures.
Separately, if you’re curious about the process I use to underwrite risks, here‘s the closest thing I have to a playbook.
A flaw is something a GP needs to overcome within the next 3-5 years to become more established, or “obvious” to an LP. These are often skillsets and/or traits that are desirable in a fund manager. For instance, they’re not a team player, bad at marketing, struggle to maintain relationships with others, inexperienced on exit strategies, have a limited network, or struggle to win >5% allocation on the cap table at the early stage.
Restrictions, on the other hand, are self-imposed. Something a GP needs to overcome but chooses not to. These are often elements of a fund manager LPs have to get to conviction on to independent of the quality of the GP. For example, the GP plans to forever stay a solo GP even with $300M+ AUM. Or the thesis is too niche. Or they only bet on certain demographics. Hell, they may not work on weekends. Or invest in a heavily diversified portfolio.
Limitations are imposed by others or by the macro environment, often against their own will. GPs don’t have to fix this, but must overcome the stigma. Often via returns. Limitations are not limited to, but include the GPs are too young or too old. They went to the “wrong” schools. There are no fancy logos on their resume. They’re co-GPs with their life partner or sibling or parent. As a founder, they never exited their company for at least 9-figures. Or they were never a founder in the first place.
To break down differentiation:
f(differentiation) = motivation + value + platform
Easy to remember too, f(differentiation) = MVP. In many ways, as you scale your firm and become more established, differentiation, while still important, matters less. More important when you’re the pirate than the navy.
Motivation is what many LPs call, GP-thesis fit. To expand on that…
Why are you starting this fund?
Why continue? Are you in it to win it? Are you in it for the long run?
What about your past makes this thesis painfully obvious for you? What past key decisions influence you today?
What makes your thesis special?
How much of the fund is you? And how much of it is an extension of you or originates with you but expands?
What do you want to have written on your epitaph?
What do you not want me or other people to know about you? How does that inform the decisions you make?
What failure will you never repeat?
In references, does this current chapter obvious to your previous employers?
And simply, does your vision for the world get me really excited? Do I come out of our conversations with more energy than what I went in with?
As you can probably guess, I spend a lot of time here. Sometimes you can find the answers in conversations with the GPs. Other times, via references or market research.
Value is the value-add and the support you bring to your portfolio companies. Why do people seek your help? Is your value proactive or reactive? Why do co-investors, LPs, and founders keep you in their orbit?
Platform is how your value scales over time and across multiple funds, companies, LPs, and people in the network. This piece matters more if you plan to build an institutional firm. Less so if you plan to stay boutique. What does your investment process look like? How do people keep you top of mind?
Of course, track record, to many of you reading this, is probably most obvious. Easiest to assess. While past performance isn’t an indicator of future results, one thing worth noting is something my friend Asheronce told me, “TVPI hides good portfolio construction. When I do portfolio diligence, I don’t just look at the multiples, but I look at how well the portfolio companies are doing. I take the top performer and bottom performer out and look at how performance stacks up in the middle. How have they constructed their portfolio? Do the GPs know how to invest in good businesses?” Is the manager a one-hit wonder, or is there more substance behind the veil?
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!
The views expressed on this blogpost are for informational purposes only. None of the views expressed herein constitute legal, investment, business, or tax advice. Any allusions or references to funds or companies are for illustrative purposes only, and should not be relied upon as investment recommendations. Consult a professional investment advisor prior to making any investment decisions.
Folks with frequent flyer miles here know that I’m a big fan of Brandon Sanderson’s lessons on creative writing. So, when Brandon Sanderson shared his new course on YouTube, I had to check it out. And I’m glad I did. In it, there’s a story on a Hollywood pilot for a new sitcom.
A team in Hollywood would bring people in, and subsequently tell them that team would ask the test audience what they thought of the pilot episode after they watched it. People would then watch it. After, they would ask, “There was a commercial at break number one. What brand was this commercial for?” Why? They didn’t want people focusing on the commercials, but wanted to understand the efficacy of the commercial. According to Brandon, they used the same sitcom pilot for years, which they used as the constant to test the commercial itself.
As such, Brandon’s advice to writers was that you shouldn’t ask too many leading questions when asking for feedback. Otherwise you’d predispose your audience to the intentions of your script.
Interestingly enough, I wrote a piece last week on how I do references. In it, I also share some of the questions I use during diligence and reference calls. While the questions aren’t intended to deceive, they’re designed to get to the truth. For instance, instead of asking for a person’s weakness, you ask “If you were to hire someone under this person, what qualities would you look for?” If I were to ask a stranger about their friend’s weakness, 9 times out of 10, I’ll get a response that’s a strength in disguise. A stranger has no incentive to tell me negative things about someone they have known for a while.
But at the same time, my job as an investor, though only a minority investor, is to help their friend grow. And I can’t help them grow if I don’t know what are areas they need to grow in.
As such, the focus isn’t on weaknesses. But shifting the framing to areas where I can complement them. Areas that if they worked on them in the next two years will make them a more robust leader.
There’s also another exercise I’ve really enjoyed working on with founders and emerging managers. I’d host a dinner where most people don’t know each other and what the other people are building. I don’t give them time to introduce themselves, but I ask every single person to bring their deck. During the dinner, they’re required to give their deck to someone else at the table. Each person then has a max of two minutes to look at someone’s deck, with no other context. After two minutes, decks are put away. And each person is required to pitch the startup or the fund as if they were the founder.
It’s a self-awareness exercise. Too often, when we’re looking at our own pitch day in, day out, we tend to lose perspective. We tend to miss things that are obvious to others. Through the above exercise, each person is able to notice what someone with limited time and attention took away from their pitch and what the delta is between what the founder wanted to convey and what the other person ended up conveying.
#unfiltered is a series where I share my raw thoughts and unfiltered commentary about anything and everything. It’s not designed to go down smoothly like the best cup of cappuccino you’ve ever had (although here‘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!
The views expressed on this blogpost are for informational purposes only. None of the views expressed herein constitute legal, investment, business, or tax advice. Any allusions or references to funds or companies are for illustrative purposes only, and should not be relied upon as investment recommendations. Consult a professional investment advisor prior to making any investment decisions.
I came across a quote recently, which I believe originates from Qi Lu, former COO of Baidu, and the one who created Bing, Microsoft’s search engine. “Luck is like a bus. If you miss one, there’s always the next one. But if you’re not prepared, you won’t be able to jump on.”
And your bus fare comes by way of preparation. The 10-year overnight success.
Or as the classic Seneca line goes, “Luck is when preparation meets opportunity.” Or as Louis Pasteur also said, “Chance favors the prepared mind.” And by having a prepared mind at the bus stop, you’ve increased the surface area for luck to stick.
Of course, I could fill an entire blogpost with just quotes on what luck means. But I won’t.
Year 27 on this planet was simply a year to try new things. An exploration of the human mind. An exploration of what are the boundaries of the LP landscape. And what’s worth pushing on, and what’s not. The output of which culminated in events, new ways to operate, building trust circles, the podcast, more content on the blog, and of course, a lot more conversations with influencers in and away from the limelight.
The inputs of which came from my last year’s resolution.
A reflection
Last year, the goal was to find myself in the flow state at least twice a week. Truth was, at that point in time, I had yet to figure out how to truly measure it. And it wasn’t until October 15th last year when I started measuring the early semblances of it outside of just allotting time to be in the flow state. For me, it came down to a simple question. Was today worth it?
In other words, was today well spent? Defined by either:
Learning a new skill or framework
Creating a core memory
Or by realizing something I never realized before, a new way of looking at the world around me.
Each of which, at least for me, largely become possible when I am in an egoless state working or thinking about something proactively than reactively.
As of writing this blogpost, I’m 16 weeks in. And I have 18 days well spent. On average, between one and two days per week. Leaning more on one though.
Though I might be able to allot time on a weekly basis on my calendar for “flow state,” I’m not always in the mood for it. That in itself was dependent on circumstance, timing, stress, and the disciplined pursuit of inspiration. The last of which was a luxury I couldn’t always afford. Sometimes when there are more pressing matters, I can’t help but find my mind wandering and stressing over more urgent matters than focusing on doing something new.
As such, to help me do so, I focused on things I could control daily: Was I consuming a healthy and diverse diet of information? Which I measured through reading, listening to podcasts and content, and conversations with different kinds of people.
I also look back at my journal entries for the past year, and anecdotally, more than 60-70% of them are about topics and tasks I had to do, pre-assigned (often self-assigned due to constraints). And a lot of them focus on the 10%, maybe 20%, marginal improvement and refinement of what’s been done already, rather than the 10X thinking I find more common in journal entries in the years before. The difference between reactive journaling and proactive journaling. The product of consuming too much (work, podcast, and otherwise) of the same genre of information. Simply, I didn’t cover all my macros.
So, this year…
So this year’s goal is no different than the last. To explore. To find myself in creative pursuits and in the flow state. And to take risks.
While I remember the lyrics, I often forget Sanderson’s Second Law. “Flaws/limitations are more interesting than powers.” Constraints are the breeding grounds of inspiration.
Not sure how much of this is lore, but I remember reading once that Bill Gates loves hiring lazy procrastinators. As his words once rung, “I choose a lazy person to do a hard job. Because a lazy person will find an easy way to do it.” For Gates, the constraint of time and energy on a responsible individual is the forcing function for brilliance.
While it’d be ridiculous to give myself a pat on the back for “brilliance,” there is immense value in time constraints, as well as intentionally handicapping myself to produce results. To not let perfect be the enemy of good.
As such, I’m going to impose limitations on myself as a forcing function of iteration, and hopefully by product of doing so, I live more days that are worth it. For now, the count is 19 since Oct 15, 2023 (when I started counting).
How I will measure success, with a North Star of at least 2 per week
Publish the intuition vs discipline blogpost (final draft done by end of February)
Host an escape room where all the clues to escape are based on each guest’s individual stories (March)
Build a repeatable framework for backing GPs as an individual LP (by the end of February)
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!
The views expressed on this blogpost are for informational purposes only. None of the views expressed herein constitute legal, investment, business, or tax advice. Any allusions or references to funds or companies are for illustrative purposes only, and should not be relied upon as investment recommendations. Consult a professional investment advisor prior to making any investment decisions.
As those close to me know, over the past few weeks, I’ve been knee-deep in some new projects. Projects I haven’t been this excited to produce in a long while. One of which is around experiences.
At the same time, as friends and long-time readers of this humble blog know, I am no stranger to the world of socialexperimentsandexperiences. I still don’t have a great catch-all term for it. They’re not just another set of “events.” Events just remind me of the same conference, fireside chat, or happy hour playbook. But I try to take my events a step further. So, naturally, given my fascination around building experiences, I walk hand-in-hand with both psychological research and game design. The former of which I share a bit more in previous blogposts than the latter.
So, I’m going to dedicate this essay to three of the lessons I picked up in the latter.
Create experiences that optimize for people who know no one else there.
Don’t confuse complexity with depth.
A great event is great not due to the event itself, but because of the story one gets to tell again and again.
1. Create experiences that optimize for people who know no one else there.
I had always had this somewhere in the back of my head. To design experiences where no one was ever left out. But when I caught up with a friend recently in New York, he codified it into what it is today. As someone who runs a design studio that builds immersive experiences in New York, he spends most of his time building experiences for strangers. And while friends may visit his exhibits together, the vast majority of his attendees do not know anyone else.
Take, for example, happy hours. Most happy hours aren’t designed for the person who knows no one. Usually the event itself is fairly laissez-faire. Most of which, the hosts don’t actively try to connect attendees. And so if you show up at a happy hour and the host is too busy to intro you to anyone, unless you’re an outgoing person, you’re likely standing near the edges, hoping to jump into a conversation if any group will let you. This often leads to events where people leave early and form cliques. It also optimizes for early birds, rather than the fashionably late.
Tactically, it’s creating excuses for people to jump in conversation. While not a problem for outgoing individuals, I need to empower everyone, including shy introverts, with tools to start conversations, where I and/or the experience shoulder the initial responsibility and blame to start conversations. That could be with customized fortune cookies where one is supposed to read their fortune to someone else. Or empowering people with a mission or an ask greater than themselves. For instance, to over-simplify it a bit, “I’m trying to put together a small group of everyone who’s wearing glasses tonight. Do you mind helping me find out all the names of the guests who are wearing glasses?” Or “I’m trying to resolve a debate with my co-host. Pineapples or no pineapples on pizza. I’m all for pineapples, but she isn’t. Can you help me find more allies?”
2. Don’t confuse complexity with depth.
This is unfortunately a fallacy I often find myself spiraling down the longer I’m given to ponder. And I lose myself in intellectual complexity.
Many years ago when a couple friend and I first decided to host an escape room in a mansion over three days and two nights, the greatest question we had was: How do we create an immersive experience over multiple days? And retain that level of immersion throughout? I thought, hell, what if we created a brand new language for the event. One that all guests would have to learn and practice throughout the event. We’d ease them in slowly, but the biggest puzzle could only be solved through adequate mastery in this new language. This easily gave me the greatest injection of dopamine when planning for the event. And I went deep, talking with linguistic professors, studying how Tolkien created Quenya, and how Cameron and Paul Frommer created the Na’vi language.
It was truly interesting to me and to many of my friends. But unfortunately, through user testing, to most others, while interesting to hear its backstory, was not fun to practice. I had ended up developing it to a level to where it departed from its English roots to resembling language of Scandinavian origin. Because of its complexity and how there were more guests who were English speakers than speakers of this new language, immersion broke almost instantaneously.
The great Mark Rosewateronce definedinteresting as intellectual stimulation and fun as emotional stimulation. While they’re not mutually exclusive, it’s important to not confuse the two.
There’s a great Maya Angelou line that I, like many others, like to reference. “People will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” And it is no less true for gamified designs. Emotional satisfaction often runs deeper and longer than intellectual satisfaction. The former has a greater chance of becoming a “core memory,” to borrow from the brilliant minds behind Pixar’s Inside Out, than the latter.
I was lucky to learn this lesson from one of the greatest designers of card games alive today. It was on a call earlier this year, where I was telling him about all the awesome bells and whistles I was planning on implementing for an upcoming experience. And I asked what he thought. To which, he responded: “Kill all complexity. Complexity is not a substitute for depth. Rely on your audience for depth. The more borders, the harder it is enjoy. Too few, it’s chaotic. Find the absolute minimum number of borders.”
The goal of creating systems is to create opportunities for serendipity. To create opportunities where people can dive deep. Not to force people to take the plunge when they may not be ready.
His advice just happens to rhyme with a quote I’ve always kept somewhere in the back of my mind, but now sits on the wall above my PC.
“Your ability to solve problems with magic in a satisfying way is directly proportional to how well the reader understands said magic.” — Sanderson’s First Law of Magic
3. A great event is great not due to the event itself, but because of the story one gets to tell again and again.
Under the ambiance of MarieBelle, which I still so fondly remember the moment my friend told me this, she said, “A great event is great not due to the event itself, but because of the story one gets to tell again and again.” It’s the truest definition of surprising and delighting. She was someone who used to work on the Dreamweavers team at Eleven Madison Park when Will Guidara was still there. As such the above lesson was a page out of Will Guidara‘s book Unreasonable Hospitality, whose best known for how intentionally he took front of the house hospitality at 11 Madison Park, one of the greatest restaurants in the world. 4 stars on New York Times, and 3 Michelin stars. He also happened to be the person who conceived the Dreamweavers team there. Just to give you an idea of how seriously they take their roles…
First off, the core of the event itself — the meat, the protein — has to be great. If it’s a tofu burger, it better be a damn well-marinated fat slice of egg tofu, double-fried to perfection. To Malcolm Gladwell, that’s the meal.
And only once you have it all, what’s the cherry on top? What’s the candy? Why would people want to talk about it? For events, that’s:
Delivering surprises — gifts and/or experiences they do not expect
Transferrable pieces of knowledge — insights, frameworks, or trivia knowledge that are useful even after the event
Meeting great people WITH great stories — “Did you know that [so-and-so] did X?” And for this to happen not just opportunistically but at scale, finding ways to help people share stories of vulnerability or of adventures that have yet to grace any public media is key. The easiest way is through questions. The slightly harder way is through a set of triggers where it makes sharing such a story natural.
In closing
I am, as always, a work-in-progress. And with the events I’ll continue to host this year, I’m going to learn more. And in time, be able to share more of my lessons, trials, and tribulations in this journey. In hopes, this will aid or inspire you on your path.
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!
The views expressed on this blogpost are for informational purposes only. None of the views expressed herein constitute legal, investment, business, or tax advice. Any allusions or references to funds or companies are for illustrative purposes only, and should not be relied upon as investment recommendations. Consult a professional investment advisor prior to making any investment decisions.
Whenever I host fireside chats, I always ask three questions before the talk begins, usually a week in advance.
What would make this interview the most memorable one you’ve been a guest for even two years from now?
Are there any topics you don’t want to talk about? Or are sick of talking about?
Are there any questions you have yet to be asked, but wish someone were to ask you?
On top of the above three questions , occasionally, I ask a fourth. Do you have a home run story that has gotten you a standing ovation in the past — privately or publicly?
The goal is simple. Despite hours of research and asking mutuals, sometimes I still can’t find anything that’s humanizing about my guest. And I know for a fact that all humans are imperfect. And that imperfection makes each person relatable. Just like when Neil Gaiman met Neil Armstrong. But recently, I’ve fallen in love with a new way to phrase the fourth question.
What is a story that you’ve told or have yet to tell where you either fight to hold back tears or fight to hold back giggles?
On my flight to New York recently, I watched a movie starring one of my favorite actors in the world, Tom Hanks, which inspired this question. And, subsequently this blogpost. A Man Called Otto. Inspired by Fredrick Backman’s A Man Called Ove. And I’m not ashamed to say, I cried during that movie. While Rotten Tomatoes may not give it the score I think it deserves, it was well-written and well-produced. Through it, I realized that powerful stories are powerful not because of how awesome the protagonist is. But by how relatable their weaknesses are. Their limitations. I’ll give an example… to avoid spoiling the afore-mentioned movie.
Spiderman isn’t awesome because he has mutant powers. He’s awesome because he’s prone to all the emotions and struggles, be it love, bullies at school, a horrible boss, and how he acts out against all of that. Spiderman’s much more relatable than a super billionaire who owns all the gadgets in the world or an alien from another planet. He’s just a kid from Brooklyn. Or Queens, depending on which Spiderman suits your fancy. And as Brandon Sandersononce said, limitations are more interesting than powers. Limitations make us human. And characters who exhibit humanness and still somehow overcome impossible odds are stories that are passed from generation to generation.
That said, storytelling, outside the realm of superpowers, is equally as true. In a world where appearance and social capital goes a long way, trying to be perfect, to look perfect, and to act perfect is a fallacy in the modern era. While we know we’re not perfect, as a society, we continue to strive for perfection.
After watching a lot of movies, and in my free time, watching acting lessons (FYI, would fail as an actor, but still find the craft fascinating.), I’ve learned we don’t cry when watching movies because the characters cry easily. We cry because the character is trying to hold back their tears. And we don’t laugh during a show or a movie because the comedian laughs easily. We laugh even more because they’re trying to hold back their own laughter. The narrators and characters we see are a reflection of who we truly are.
In many ways, if someone cries easily, it relieves the audience of the ability, some artists may call it responsibility, to cry. Someone, the actor or actress or character has diffused the tension already. But if they fight to hold back their tears, holding back the floodgates, we as the audience are more likely to cry in their stead.
Now I say all of this because I find most fireside chats and interviews unrelatable. Now it’s a product of many things. And I genuinely believe a plethora of individuals do have something powerful and insightful to share, but the stage needs to be ready for them. It’s rare for guests to drop some head-turning advice in the first 10 minutes. Which means… it’s up to both the host and the guest to hold the audience’s attention long enough, as well as create enough opportunities for the guest to shine. The above question, in my opinion, does both.
So all in all, going forward, rather than asking for a home run story, I will ask for stories where people are just people. And for stories that mean a tremendous amount to the people telling them. That they have no choice but to let even a little bit of themselves out emotionally.
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, it’s free. But even if you don’t, you can always come back at your own pace.
The views expressed on this blogpost are for informational purposes only. None of the views expressed herein constitute legal, investment, business, or tax advice. Any allusions or references to funds or companies are for illustrative purposes only, and should not be relied upon as investment recommendations. Consult a professional investment advisor prior to making any investment decisions.
“Somewhere along the line is a voice deep within you that tells you exactly who you are; you just have to have the courage to do that. That’s what the journey of the hero is all about. You’re born into a world where you don’t fit in. You answer the call to adventure. And you deny the call. Then at some point you then set out on your path. You slay dragons, and you do all of that. At some point, you come face-to-face with not a god, but yourself. Somewhere along the line, you get it — your A-ha moment. Your elixir. And you go back to your ordinary world and share it with others. I think that’s the journey. I think that’s the privilege of being absolutely who you are — belonging to yourself and being brave.”
In the world post-pandemic, people crave connection. A desire to go from URL to IRL. Everyone lost those years. Something everyone from a first grader to a college student to a young professional entering the workforce to a retiree could relate to. And in 2021, there was a re-emergence of events. Well-intentioned and well-founded. We had conferences, coffee chats, happy hours, fireside chats, oh, so many happy hours, panels, tech weeks, and… did I mention happy hours?
Most events out there are a time and a place for a collection of people. They’re static points in time. Not even counting the full spectrum of event planners, many of the best event planners spend tons of times on what makes events special, but change more about the small bells and whistles of an event than the overall flow. There are very few who take leaps of faith. Even less true for the vast majority of events, where events feel more of an afterthought than something that is designed to start or end a chapter in your life.
As such, everyone found themselves left with a goodie bag including a surplus of events, a lack of focus and attention, and a lollipop of exhaustion.
So, I had a thought last year, greatly inspired by my team at On Deck Angels. Instead of trying to host an event a month, what would need to change if we could only do one event a year? What would we have to do? Hell, extrapolating further, what if we only did one event every two years? Three years? Every Olympic arc? Which led to the thinking around, what do we need to do to make this the most memorable event that anyone has ever been to.
You see, I’ve hosted and co-hosted small and large-scale social experiments, but it was always for an audience who proactively and voluntarily signed up for. They were willing to do things outside the ordinary. But could I apply the same learnings to events for really, busy people who crave intellectual challenges, and who have been to so many events, they might be jaded?
So, below was and continues to be my collection of governing thoughts around answering that question, which will only grow and refine this year. In the theme of my blogpost last week, the below may be messy. Disorganized. Chaotic, even. Hope not, but possible. You’ve been warned. But I do hope that you might find at least one of the below frameworks useful.
Metrics for success
Every event needs a North Star. When planning the Angel Forum, as well as future events, below are mine.
Attendees go on a hero’s journey, revisiting Viola Davis’ words above. In other words, character development. The event should create opportunities for growth within the event itself.
Every attendee continues to and is motivated to build friendships (as opposed to networking and purely transactional connection) after the event. If the event itself is the only reason for people to connect, but it does not give people incentive to after, it’s a failure (in my books).
For now, that means, not only the speakers and the presenters need to be curated, but also each and every person on the guest list. I have yet to figure out how to customize such experiences at scale, where each person has wildly different goals.
Narrative frameworks I use for events
To dig a level deeper, here are my frameworks for execution:
Surprise and suspense — Surprise is when you relay information that the audience does not expect. Suspense is when you relay information that the audience is expecting, but does not know when it’ll drop. Suspense is how you keep attention. It raises expectation, but knowing when to deliver the news helps with creating a reality that meets or beats expectation. Surprise is, on the other hand, purely for creating alphas in this expectation-versus-reality model. It’s the main driver for overdelivering on a seemingly smaller, but still powerful promise. To do so, I find George Loewenstein’s 1994 paper on the psychology of curiosity super helpful. More on how the five triggers to curiosity influenced my thinking here.
Candy versus the meal — A Malcolm Gladwell framework. Effectively, how people think and what people actually talk about are quite different. Candy is what people talk about. For example, if I were to talk about the recent Avatar movie, I’d talk about how amazing the motion capture and the CGI was. And in doing so, I’ve spoiled nothing. It tells you nothing about the plot, but it’s exciting to talk about. On the other hand, the meal is how people think. It’s the whole package, the whole story. The meal has to be well-worth the visit, but the candy is what gets people excited. More on that in a previous essay I wrote here.
The audience must understand the rules of magic — This is a combination of the thoughts of Malcolm Gladwell‘s framework around tools and Brandon Sanderson’s three laws of magical systems. Give the audience tools to use at the very beginning of the event. It could be a framework for how to think about the event and every activity in between. It could be physical tools that they will employ throughout the event. And once you do, make sure your audience knows how to use those tools. Test them. Give them small, but easy case studies and questions. Make it easy. Don’t put them on the spot. And by completing that test, that satisfaction and joy will help motivate them to use it more later. As Sanderson’s first law of magic goes, “your ability to solve problems with magic in a satisfying way is directly proportional to how well the reader understands said magic.” More on my thoughts on Sanderson’s laws here.
Plots — Like any good story, the narrative is governed by plots. The plot must thicken and build towards a climax. And it must be resolved by the end of the event. Leave little in the main plot to chance, but leave room for each guest to discover something extraordinary. Maintaining a minor amount of stress and uncertainty, while sharing examples and reminders of being open-minded to new experiences, goes a long way. Only after stepping outside one’s comfort zone can one grow.
Always use the audience’s time in a way that does not feel wasted — Inspired by one of the greatest writers of all time, Kurt Vonnegut. I forget which lecture he did that I learned this from. But it’s always been a governing theme for what I do.
End on an ending where the reader can imagine no other — No loose ends. Everything that is teased (whether the audience realizes it or not) needs to be resolved by the end. This might be a semi-controversial opinion among storytellers and creative professionals. But I’m biased. I like my stories to end with a bowtie.
In closing
As you might imagine, much of this is still incomplete. And I hope to share more as I continue down this path of exploration and discovery.
#unfiltered is a series where I share my raw thoughts and unfiltered commentary about anything and everything. It’s not designed to go down smoothly like the best cup of cappuccino you’ve ever had (although here‘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.
“‘Mutation’ is simply the term for a version of a gene that fewer than 2 percent of the population has. […] Imagine enough letters to fill 13 complete sets of Encyclopaedia Britannica with a single-letter typo that changes the meaning of a crucial entry.” A fascinating line from David Epstein. One that makes you pause and think. I apologize that this is where my mind wanders to every time I read something that stops me cold in my tracks. The world of startups, at least in fundraising, is no different.
Let me elaborate.
While this is rather anecdotal, the average VC I know takes 10 or less first meetings in any given week. As an average of 500 emails land in their inbox every week, that’s a 2% chance of having your cold message land you a meeting. And that’s not even counting the heavy bias towards warm intros. In other words, to get noticed, you have to stray from the norm. A variant. A mutation.
The good news about being a mutated monkey with two left ears and an overbite hosting two dozen fangs is that unlike in nature, you can genetically modify and give birth to a mutated product of your choosing. While I probably could’ve used more floral language, I realize I’m also not writing a rom com, but a documentary capturing the cold realities of an investor’s virtual real estate. That has more eyes trying to peer into it than it has time, space, and most importantly, attention to open doors.
Your appearance on that stake of land is your debutante ball. The question is how will you grace the ballroom floor among a sea of people who have access to the same town tailors, dressmakers, and dance instructors as you do. A name. A subject line. And at most 50 characters to make a first impression.
The short answer is you don’t.
I also understand that in writing a piece on how to stand out in an investor’s inbox, I run the risk of sounding like every other Medium article who’s covered this topic before me. So, instead of sharing the five steps to get every investor to open your email, I’m going to share three examples, starting with some initial frameworks of how and some of my favorite thought leaders think about narratives.
As a compass for the below, I’ll share more about:
For the purpose of this essay, I’ll focus on cold emails, rather than warm intros. But many of the below lessons are transferrable.
The investor product
Blume’s Sajith Pai recently wrote a great piece detailing on what he calls the investor product. And how that is different from the content product — what customers see and hear — and the internal comms product — what your team members see and hear. Even in my own experience, I see founders often conflate at least two. They bucket it into the internal story… and the external story — bundling, ineffectively, the investor and content product.
In short, the investor product is the narrative that you tell your investors. A permutation of your personality and your vector in the market in a sequence you think investors find most compelling. That narrative, while not mutually exclusive, is different from the story you tell your customers. For customers, you are the Yoda to their Luke Skywalker. For investors, you’re the Anakin to the Jedi Order. The future.
Not all pitches are created equal
Just like expository writing differs from persuasive writing which differs from narrative writing, there are different flavors of fundraising pitches as well. Kevin Kwokboils it down to three.
Narrative pitches: What could be. What does the future look like?
Inflection pitches: New unveiled secrets. In Kevin’s words, for investors, “now is the ideal risk-adjusted time to invest.” Why is the present so radically different? Why is the second derivative zero?
Traction pitches: Results and metrics. How does the past paint you in glorious light? Admittedly, people rarely index on the past. So, traction pitches are on decline. It’s akin to, if someone were to ask, “What is your greatest accomplishment?” You say, “It has yet to happen.”
The truth is most early-stage founder pitches are narrative pitches, focused on team and vision. But the most compelling ones for VCs are inflection ones. One of my favorite investor frameworks, put into words by the an investor in the On Deck Angels community, is:
Do I believe this founder can 10x their KPIs within the funding window?
The funding window is defined as usually 12 to 18 months after the round closes. And usually the interim time before a venture-scale company goes out to raise another round. In order to 10x during the next 12 to 18 months, you have to be on either a rising market tide that raises all boats, or more importantly, the beginnings of the hockey stick curve in your product journey. Do you have evidence that your customers just love your product? For instance, for marketplaces, that could be early organic signs as demand converts to supply. In other cases, it could be the engagement rate post-reaching the activation milestone.
What channel does the pitch land in
While the message — the narrative — is important, the channel in which the pitch is received is just as, if not more important. As Reid Hoffmanonce wrote, “the cold and unromantic fact is that a good product with great distribution will almost always beat a great product with poor distribution.”
The truth is that email is a saturated channel.
While Figma’s Naira Hourdajian notes that this applies to any form of communications, not just politics, she put it best, “Essentially, when you’re working in politics, you have your earned channels, owned channels, and your paid channels.”
Owned — Anything you control on your own channels. Your website, blog, your own email, and in a way, your own social channels.
Paid — Anything you put out into the world using capital. For instance, ads.
Earned — Because others are not willing to give it to you and that it is their real estate, you have to earn it. Like press and in this case, others’ email inboxes.
On an adjacent point, the thing is most founders don’t spend enough time and effort on owned and earned channels when it comes to the content product. Both are extremely underleveraged. Many think, especially outside of the context of fundraising, and within go-to-market strategies, think paid is the only way to go. While powerful, it is the channel that carries the most weight post-product-market fit. Not pre-.
In the context of fundraising, I always tell founders I work with to always be fundraising, just like they should always be selling. There’s a saying that investors invest in lines, not dots. But the first time you pop up in someone’s inbox is, by definition, just a dot. Nothing more, nothing less. Rather, you should start your conversations with your future investors before you kickstart your fundraising. Ask for advice. Host events that you invite them to. Interview them on a podcast or a blogpost. Feature them in a TikTok reel. (Clearly, I spend the bulk of my time with consumer startups).
As you might have guessed, sometimes it has to be outside of the inbox. To get their attention, there are two ways you can pick your channel:
Target powerful channels in an innovative way,
Target powerful, but neglected channels,
And, target new and upcoming channels.
As such, I’ll share an example for each.
Powerful channel used in an innovative way: Email
In one of Tim Ferriss’ 5-Bullet Friday newsletters recently, I found out that Arnold Schwarzenegger handwrites all his emails.
Source: Tim Ferriss’ 5-Bullet Friday — Jan 13, 2023
It’s brilliant. Genius, I might say. I don’t know how much intentionality went into why Arnold does so, but here’s why I think it’s brilliant.
If you’re sending it to someone who owns a Gmail, you’ve just given yourself 100% more real estate (albeit ephemeral) in their inbox. If their inbox is set on Gmail’s default view. Additionally, via the attachment name, that’s 10-15 characters more of information you can share at just a glance. Or at the minimum, if they’re reading via the compact view, an extra moniker that most emails do not have. A paper clip. To a reader’s eyes, it draws the same amount of attention as a blue check mark on Twitter or Instagram.
Once they click open the email, instead of plain text, your reader, your investor, sees font that stands out from all the other email text. A textual mutation that leads to curiosity. Something that begs to be read.
Powerful, but neglected channel: Physical mail
When I started in venture, I didn’t have a network, but I knew I needed one. Particularly, with other investors. After all, I didn’t know smack. I quickly realized that email and LinkedIn were completely saturated. One investor I reached out to later told me that he doesn’t check his LinkedIn at all, since he got 200 connection requests a day. So, it begged the question: Where must investors spend time but aren’t oversaturated with information?
Well, the thing is they’re human. So I walked through every step of what a day in the life of an average human being would go through, then guesstimated if there were any similarities with an investor’s schedule. Meal time, time in the bathroom, when they were driving or in an Uber (but I don’t run a podcast they’d listen to). And, like every other human being, they check their physical mail. Or someone close to them, checks them.
I knew they had to check their mail for their bills (a surprising number of investors haven’t gone paperless). But it couldn’t seem sales-y because they or their spouse or assistant would immediately throw it out. That’s when I decided I would write handwritten letters to their offices.
The EA is the one who usually sorts through the stack, and is someone who also doesn’t get the attention he/she deserves. Nevertheless, I believed:
Handwritten letters are going to stand out among a sea of Arial and Times New Roman font.
The envelope had to be in a non-white color to stand out against the other white envelopes. So, I went to Michael’s to buy a bunch of blue and green envelopes. Truth be told, I thought red was too much for me, and often carried a negative connotation.
The EA or office manager has to deem it not spam or marketing, so including a name and return address is actually a huge bonus, AND a note that doesn’t seem market-y on the envelope (i.e. thank you and looking forward to catching up).
At the end of the letter, I’d write I’d love to drop by and meet up with them in the office. Then I’d show up at their office within the week, and say, “I’m here to see ‘Bob.'”
The EA would ask if I had an appointment, and I would say that he should’ve received a letter in earlier in the week that let him know I would be here. Then, the EA would go back and ask if ‘Bob’ was free. If not, I’d wait in the lobby until they were, without overstaying my welcome. If they weren’t in the office, I’d ask to “reschedule” and book a time with them via the EA. Which would then officially get me on their calendars.
New and upcoming channel: Instacart
In a blogpost I wrote in 2021, I recapped how Instacart got into YC:
Garry Tan and Apoorva Mehta have bothshared this story publicly. Apoorva, founder of Instacart, back in 2012, wanted to apply to Y Combinator. Unfortunately, he was applying two months late. So he reached out to all the YC alum he knew to get intros to the YC partners. He just needed one to be interested. But after every single one said no, Garry, then a partner at YC, wrote: “You could submit a late application, but it will be nearly impossible to get you in now.”
For Apoorva, that meant “it was possible.” He sent an application and a video in, but Garry responded with another “no” several days later. But instead of pushing with another email and another application, Apoorva decided to send Garry a 6-pack of beer delivered by Instacart. So that Garry could try out the product firsthand. 21st Amendment’s Back in Black, to be specific. In the end, without any precedent, Instacart was accepted. And the rest is history.
In the above case, Instacart in and of itself was the emerging platform of choice. The application portal and email here were both saturated and had failed to produce results. What I missed in the above story is that the 6-pack arrived cold, which meant that the product worked and could deliver in record time. A perfect example of a product demo, in a way the partners were least expecting it.
In closing
Siddhartha Mukherjeeonce wrote: “We seek constancy in heredity — and find its opposite: variation. Mutants are necessary to maintain the essence of ourselves.”
Variation — being different — is necessary for the survival of our species. That’s what evolution is. That said, what worked yesterday isn’t guaranteed to work tomorrow. ‘Cause that same mutation that enabled the survival of a species has become commonplace. The human race, just like any other species, replicates what works to ensure greater survival.
The same is true for great ideas. A great idea today — even the above three — will be table stakes at some point in the future. Thus, requiring the need for even newer, even more innovative ideas. Hell, if it’s not via my blog, it’ll come from somewhere else. With the rise of generative AI — ChatGPT, Midjourney, Dall-E, you name it, if you’re average, you’ll be replaced. If you don’t have a unique voice, you’ll be replaced. Some algorithm will do a better and faster job than you will. As soon as more people start using the afore-mentioned tactics, the above will no longer be original. As such, I don’t imagine the case studies will age well, but the frameworks will. That said, the only unsaturated market is the market of great. To be great, you must be atypical. You must go where no one has gone before.
For those interested in startup pitches that stand out, specifically how to think about compelling storytelling, I highly recommend two places that inspire much of my thinking on the topic:
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.
“Here’s to the crazy ones, the misfits, the rebels, the troublemakers, the round pegs in the square holes… the ones who see things differently — they’re not fond of rules, and they have no respect for the status quo… You can quote them, disagree with them, glorify or vilify them, but the only thing you can’t do is ignore them because they change things… They push the human race forward, and while some may see them as the crazy ones, we see genius, because the people who are crazy enough to think that they can change the world, are the ones who do.” — Steve Jobs
We live in a world where everyone is seeking validation from some kind of audience — large or small. And I’ve come to realize over the years that as long as we’re chasing what most people want, we will eventually be like most people. And truth be told, forgettable. Speaking for myself, I will just be a number in a sea of sameness, rather than THE number.
I realized later than I would have liked that I didn’t want to be like everyone else, after being inspired by a rejection email from someone I deeply respect when she replied with four words “Be interested and interesting.” And I count myself lucky to be surrounded by people who think different, to borrow a phrase Steve Jobs loves. For some, that means going where no human has gone before. For others, it’s a means to live their most fulfilling life.
So, I can only thank my good buddy Matt — one of the most outlier and honest-to-goodness thinkers I know — for the alchemical jazz that birthed this blogpost. Our only ask is that you suspend judgment until you reach the end. What may seem eccentric at first glance may prove to be the kernel of inspiration you didn’t know you needed today.
Below is only a snippet of quirks — seven to be exact — that make the two of us us, but hoping this inspires a larger conversation of people being unapologetically themselves.
1. The whiteboard in the shower: Leaving no shower thought unturned
There are only two kinds of reactions I get when I tell people this. Utter bewilderment. And, what I call, sparkle-eyes.
Many of my best ideas happen in the shower. In fact, about 60-70% of the topics I write about on this blogpost found its origin in the shower. But, forget myself for a second. There’s a whole movement in the world called shower thoughts. There’s also some great academic literature on the subject — that hot showers open your pores, helps your blood circulate, and put you in dopamine-high, yet relaxed states, just to name a few. But whether the science matters or not here, one of my biggest frustrations in life is losing access to great ideas just because I couldn’t commit it to memory or document them. Many of mine merely happen to start in the shower.
So, with a small purchase of a $10 whiteboard and $15-20 rainproof markers, you’ll be set.
2. Dream journaling: Better access to conscious and subconscious memory
I’ve been fascinated by dreams ever since I was a kid. Luckily, blessed by vivid imagination, I was able to synthesize the art, movies, and stories I was consuming into interactive experiences in the amphitheater of my mind. To me, dreams were the ever-evolving playground that very few tangible experiences could rival. I’m gonna be hated for saying this, but I remember the day I was let down by the Disneyland promise. I was only seven. And I told myself that day, I would start trying to remember my dreams.
You see, as fantastically awesome as dreams are, the only downside is I forget the vast majority of them within seconds of waking up.
So, for a long, long time, I’ve been dream journaling. I have a notebook by my bedside. And every time, I remember a dream, I write it down and/or draw it out. Even if all I remember is a single word or a single image. Over time, I get better at it. The better I get at capturing my dreams, the more intentional I get.
There’s now a whole slew of literature on the topic, but for me, it’s fun. And an interesting byproduct of it all is I seem to have better memory than most of my peers.
3. High-quality notebooks: Evergreen homes to high-quality ideas
This is truly a prime example that while we all come from different backgrounds, curious minds can reach the same conclusion from different angles. That’s exactly what happened when Matt and I were ideating for this blogpost when we realized we both graduated from ten-cent back-to-school-sale spiral-bound notebooks.
The more expensive the notebook, the more respect you treat it with, and the higher quality of thoughts you will entrust it to house. Think of it like sunk cost fallacy. After all, it’d be a pity to leave the sacred halls between the two leather covers unadorned with ideas that would complement the quality of the frame.
4. The Emotional Catalog: The vending machine of emotions
The human emotional spectrum is fascinating, yet quite volatile and unreliable when you most need it. For instance, I know I’m not alone in this, but I used to always find myself feeling anger and aggression upon hearing constructive feedback, rather than curiosity. That I felt anxiety and overwhelmed when on stage rather than excitement and confidence. That I felt frustrated and discouraged when writing blogposts when I want to feel inspired.
So when I committed to this blog in 2019, I started keeping tabs on when I feel strong emotions, hoping to preserve these emotions in cryogenic slumber and awakening them when I needed them most. I keep a Google Doc that has a glossary of emotions in it — from joy to anger, from optimism to jealousy, from compassion to sadness, just to name a few. And each time I consume a medium that inspires a certain emotion, I include it in that doc. They become my shots of espresso when I’m just on the wrong side of the bed.
5. The Excite-o-Meter: Matt’s personal Stoke Diary
Matt: I’m a big believer that energy is palpable, but ephemeral. Like a wisp of smoke, energy is beautiful and can dazzle and inspire, but it fades… eventually. The buzz dies down, and it saddens me. That’s why I’ve developed a practice to immortalize positive energy – by keeping a running list labeled “Excite-o-Meter.” It’s my personal Stoke Diary.
Here’s how it works.
At the beginning of every week, I create a “dashboard” in a specific notebook I have for work –- a two-page canvas that I reference back to throughout the week. Page one contains items that I detail at the beginning of the week, like my “Big Rocks” (priorities for the week) and “Principles to Uphold” (personal growth tenets I aspire to embody).
Page two is more dynamic. It contains running logs of moments that captivated me in the present, that I choose to immortalize.
I allocate 25% of page two to the “Key Learnings” of the week. But the real magic happens with the other 75% of the page. I label this section “Excite-o-Meter.”
My rule is that anytime my excitement exceeds a very scientifically-defined 7/10, I jot it down immediately.
Reached alignment on a cross-functional project that was birthed out of a chaotic primordial soup of conflicting objectives? Jotted.
Overcame a once-limiting belief, reminding myself that I hold the paintbrush against the canvas of my life? Jotted.
My SQL query finally ran after debugging it for 24 minutes? Jotted.
At the individual level, it helps me memorialize the moment, etching it down onto my notebook and simultaneously, my mind. But when I read the log in periods of reflection, when I browse weeks worth of “Excite-o-Meter” entries – it reminds me of who I am. Of what gets me to tick. Of what makes me experience pure exuberance. It’s my Stoke Diary, and it’s my ever-growing source of inspiration.
6. Marriage counseling: A recipe for strong co-founder relationships
Two and a half years ago, after a conversation with one of my favorite founders, I stumbled across the parallels of marriages and co-founder relationships. Ever since, while I don’t do so with any element of regularity, I’ve found couple counseling to be a huge unlock to demystifying sticky co-founder dynamics, hell, even how to make amends with friends.
7. Restaurant recipes: It never hurts to ask
I stumbled across this one quite accidentally. So, one of the things I’m quite known for among my group of friends is that I like bringing a notebook with me almost everywhere. And there have been multiple times that for a party of two, I’ve been the first to arrive. In hopes to capture my thoughts and ideas before they dissipate into the cosmos, as soon as I am seated at the restaurant, I immediately start to take notes. Additionally, when I ponder, I tend to look around as if my eyes were bees just hovering above sunflowers in a prairie without any intent to rest on any particular nectary.
That, in effect, without even noticing it myself, makes me look like a food critic — to which I’ve been offered complimentary drinks and appetizers while waiting for my dinner guest. On occasion, they serve me something I wouldn’t have ordered myself and I love it. And well, being a curious home cook I am, I had to ask how they make it, in hopes of replicating the flavor and/or texture profile at home. And I remember the first time I worked up my courage to ask, the chef de cuisine hand-wrote out her full recipe and gave it to me at the end of the meal.
Ever since, every time I like a dish at a restaurant, I give my compliments to the chef and politely ask for the recipe. Most times I get a thank you but no, but surprisingly and anecdotally, about 40-50% of the time, I actually get the recipe. And in a small, small handful of times, the chef shows me how to make the dish live.
In closing
Most people don’t self-describe themselves as quirky. Neither do they seek to find a quirk that best describes them. Quirks are products of self-discovery and unadulterated problem-solving at its purest. Bespoke solutions to ones’ problems, unabated from society’s judgmental eye, birthed by the crazy ones. And that is something Matt and I find magical.
In fact, when Matt brought up this topic with his bud, Rebecca, recently, she described it best, “Quirks are an evolutionary adaptation. They stand out and persist because they survive. Because they are a survival mechanism. Everyone has a bunch of systems. I have a way of organizing my notes, packing my suitcase, curating my notes, and a bunch more.”
While the purpose of this blogpost isn’t for you to pick what quirks you like and copy them (while we won’t stop you if you do), rather, we hope this helps you better understand where quirks come from. And just maybe, this will help you build the blueprint schematics to what makes you you.
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.
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.
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 investor’s advice and you might fail. Always follow your investor’s advice and you’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:
Valid environments – environments that are predictable and have minimal attribution to luck
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, “We realize, oh no, this team doesn’t have the stuff to bend the arc of the present to that different future. Because I like to say, it’s not enough. […] I’d say that’s the first mistake we’ve made is we were right about the insight, but we were wrong about the team.”
“I’d say the reverse mistake we’ve made is the team just seems awesome, and we just can’t look past the fact that they didn’t articulate good inflections, and they can’t articulate a radically different future. They end up executing to a local maximum, and we have an okay, but not great outcome.”
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:
You need to find the partners who really, really want you to win. As the great Tom Landry says, “A coach is someone who 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.”
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 — reveal character or advance the action.
Let me revise the above. Every slide must do one of two things — reveal character or advance the action. Anything else is superfluous. That means, outside of your core slides — 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 — 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 — your investors — 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 — 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 don’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.
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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.
With the crazy market we’re in today, VCs are frontloading their diligence. They’re having smarter conversations earlier. Before 2021, most investors would have intro conversations with founders before taking a deeper dive into the market to see if the opportunity is big enough. Nowadays, investors do most, if not all, their homework before they start conversations with founders. And when they’ve gotten a good understanding of the market and a more robust thesis, then:
They go out finding and talking to the founders who are solving the problems and gaps in the market they know exist.
They incubate their own companies that solve these same issues.
Subsequently, they are more exploratory than ever before. In frontloading their diligence, VCs have become more informed, if not better, predictors of not only where the market is today, but where the market is going to be tomorrow. They have a better grasp on the non-obvious. Or at the very minimum, have a much better understanding on the obvious, so that the boundaries of the non-obvious are pushed further. In turn, they can truly invest in the outliers. Outliers that are more than three standard deviations from the mean.
Startup ideas are often pushing the boundaries of our understanding of the world we live in. The team at Floodgate use an incredible breakdown to frame the amount of data that needs to be present to qualify the validity of a team and idea. “[W]e like to say some secrets are plausible, some are possible, and some are preposterous, all different types of insights. It matters what type it is because the type of team you need, the type of people you need to hire, the fundraising strategy, the risk profile, the amount of inflections that have to come together. All of those things vary, depending on the type of secret about future that you’re pursuing,” said Mike Maples Jr. recently on the Invest Like the Best podcast.
Science fiction is, by definition, preposterous. But so are the true outliers. And as any great investor knows, that’s where the greatest alphas are generated.
Preposterous ideas are backed by logic and insight
To quote PG from an essay he wrote earlier this year, “Most implausible-sounding ideas are in fact bad and could be safely dismissed. But not when they’re proposed by reasonable domain experts. If the person proposing the idea is reasonable, then they know how implausible it sounds. And yet they’re proposing it anyway. That suggests they know something you don’t. And if they have deep domain expertise, that’s probably the source of it.
“Such ideas are not merely unsafe to dismiss, but disproportionately likely to be interesting.”
But no matter how implausible your startup idea sounds, there still has to fundamentally be an audience. And while it may not be obvious today, the goal is that it will be obvious one day. Frankly, if it’s forever non-obvious and forever in the non-consensus, you just can’t make any money there. If Airbnb stuck only with the convention industry or Uber only with the black cab, or Shopify only with snowboards, they would never have the ability to be as big as they are today.
Shopify’s Alex Danco has this great line in his essay World Building. “If you can create a world that’s more clear and compelling than the complex, ambiguous real world, then people will be attracted to that story.”
As investors, we have to start from first principle thinking. Investors, in frontloading their diligence, find the answers to “why now” and “why this”. All they’re looking for after is the “why you.” The further down the line towards preposterous science fiction you are, the more you need to sell investors on “why you”.
Idea Plausibility
Key Question
Context
Plausible
Why this?
Most people can see why this idea should exist. Because of the consensus, you’re competing in a saturated market of similar, if not the same ideas. Therefore, to stand out, you must show traction.
Possible
Why now?
It makes sense that this idea should exist, but it’s unclear whether there’s a market for this. To stand out, you have to convince investors on the market, and subsequently the market timing.
Preposterous
Why you?
Hands down, this is just crazy. You’re clearly in the non-consensus. Now the only way you can redeem yourself is if you have incredible insight and foresight. What’s the future you see and why does that make sense given the information we have today? If an investor doesn’t walk out of that meeting having been mind-blown on your lesson from the future, you’ve got no chance.
And when answering the “why you”, it’s not just on your background and years of experience, but your expertise. As Sequoia’s Roelof Bothaputs it, “So what was the insight? What is the problem that you’re addressing? And why is your solution compelling and unique in addressing that problem? Even if it’s compelling, if it’s not unique there’re going to be lots of competitors. And then you’re probably going to struggle to build a distinctive business. So it’s that unique and compelling value proposition that I look for.” So before anything else, the best investors, like Roelof, “think of value creation before value capture.”
In order to find that earned secret – that compelling and unique secret sauce – in the first place, you have to love what you’re working. And not just passionate, but obsessive. The problem you’re trying to solve keeps you up at night. You have to be more of a “missionary” than a “mercenary” as Roelof would put it. If you’re truly a missionary, even the most preposterous idea will sound plausible if you can break down why it truly matters.
The Regulatory Dilemma
The most important and arguably the hardest part about writing science fiction – and this is equally true for funders as it is for founders – is that we have to self-regulate. Regulation will always be a lagging indicator of technological development. Regulators won’t move until there’s enough momentum.
But, as we learned in high school physics, with every action, you need an equal and opposite reaction. The hard about momentum, and I imagine this’ll only be more true in a decentralized world, is that it’s second order derivative is positive. In other words, it’ll only get faster and faster. On the other hand, regulation follows the afterimage of innovation. It sees where the puck was or, at best, is at, but not, until much later, where the puck is going. And truth be told, innovation will eventually plateau, as it follows a rather step-wise function, as I’ve written before. And when it does, regulation will catch up.
So, in the high school physics example of Newtonian physics, the reaction, in this case, regulation, needs to be equal and opposite force comparative to where the puck will be. But as you’ve guessed, that will stop innovation. And I don’t think the vast majority of the world would want that. Progress fuels the human race.
In fantastical worlds, we are often used to how awesome things can be. Making the impossible possible. But as Brandon explains, “the truth is that it’s virtually impossible to come up with a magical effect that nobody else has thought of. Originality, I’ve seen, doesn’t come so often with the power itself as with the limitation.”
As the infamous line goes, “with great power comes great responsibility.” If you end up having access to every single person on this planet’s data, what makes you a company worth betting on isn’t your power, but how you use that power. How you self-regulate in using that power. Take, Open AI’s GPT-3. Instead of sharing the entire AI with the world, they limited that power to prevent malicious actors through an API.
What does self-regulation mean? Simply, aligning incentives so that all stakeholders win. When you have two people, you have a 2×2 matrix to account for four possible outcomes. There’s a situation where both people win, two situations where one wins, one loses, and another where both lose. Needless to say, we want to be maximizing for win-win situations.
As Balaji Srinivasansaid on the Tim Ferriss Show recently, “When you have three people, it’s a 2x2x2, because there’s eight outcomes, win/lose times win/lose times win/lose. It’s a Cartesian product.. […] When you have N people, it’s two by two by two to the Nth power. It’s like this hypercube it as it gets very complicated.” Subsequently, the greater the organization, the more stakeholders there, and the harder it is to account for the “win” to the Nth power outcome. Nevertheless, it’s important for founder and funders at the frontier of technological and economic development to consider such outcomes. And at what point is there a divergence of incentives.
There’s usually a strict alignment in the value creation days. But as the business grows and evolves to worry more about value capture, there needs to be a recalibration of growth and an ownership of responsibility as the architects who willed a seemingly preposterous idea into existence.
In closing
We live in a day in age that is crazier than ever before. To use Tim Urban’s analogy, if you brought someone from 1750 to today and had them just observe the world we live in, that person will not only be mind-blown, but literally, die of shock. To get the same effect of having someone die of shock in 1750, you can’t just bring someone from 1500, but you’d have to go further back till 12,000 BC. The world is changing exponentially. And new technologies further that. Who knows? In 50 years, we in 2021, might die of shock from what the world will have become.
And rightly because of such velocity, innovators – founders and investors – will have to lead the charge not only technically and economically, but also morally.
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!
