This past weekend, I ended rewatching a classic and one of my favorite Eddie Murphy movies, A Thousand Words. Eddie, who plays Jack McCall, a literary agent, is someone who will say anything to get what he wants. And the plot of the movie effectively revolves around him trying to sign his next author and the after effects of doing so.
At one point, Dr. Sinja, the author he’s trying to sign, tells Jack, after he exclaims that he tells his wife he loves her “all the time”, “Words? More words, Jack. You tell her, like meaningless leaves that fly off a dying tree?
“Words.
“Can’t you show her that you love her? Make peace. Show them that you love them. And be truthful.”
One of my favorite people in the world, my friend who I met by way of mutual friend introduction, also happens to be one of the more well-traveled people I know. While it’s not my intention to embarrass her by writing this blogpost, she’s someone I’m deeply grateful for — my pen pal.
Every time we text, we send these long passages to each other. Paragraphs long. It doesn’t happen super often, every 2-3 months or so. And at times, we go six months without texting each other. But what makes her awesome aren’t our virtual letters, while I do really enjoy writing and reading them. What makes her awesome is that every time we meet in-person, she brings me gifts from abroad.
And she did so, ever since the day we first met, and I, in a passing remark, mentioned I didn’t travel often. And because of my work, my school, the need for me to be close to take care of family, I’ve stayed in the cocoon of the Bay Area my whole life. As such, I really do enjoy when friends tell me in detail of their travels beyond the horizons. But she took it a step further, where she would:
Buy gifts, snacks and souvenirs from abroad to bring back
Mail me postcards from every trip, sharing the smells, sights, sounds, and feels of her surroundings as she writes them
And of course, bring me back tales from her adventures when we meet in person.
They’re small things. But despite being small, they mean a lot to me.
I’m luckier now to be able to travel more. And just like my pen pal brings back treasures when she travels, I do so for her now too.
And of course, this extends beyond friendships. The fundamentals for any relationship (friendship, romantic, customer, investor, or some other business relationship) are fulfilling promises. Too often, I meet folks, who like Jack McCall say more than they can deliver. Most times unintentionally. A large part due to society’s expectations to be nice.
I’ll give an example. How often do we hear “How can I help?” at the end of a conversation? If you’re anyone who has something that others want — connections, capital, or advice — the ones on the receiving end probably wish to pay you back in some way. But most people ask that, and when they get an answer back, they take it in like the passing wind. Personally, I’d rather people who can’t deliver on that not ask that question than ask and not deliver (if there is something the other could use help on).
To go beyond just a normal relationship means you need to deliver the unexpected — beyond the initial promise. That requires you to actually spend time caring. And when you do, actions will naturally follow words or perform independent of words.
#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.
The other day, I had a super insightful conversation with one of my awesome teammates here at Alchemist Accelerator about access and exposure. The difference between accelerators and emerging early-stage managers.
I’ll preface that for investors, particularly emerging managers, the three things you need to win are sourcing, picking, winning. And to be a GP, you need at least two of the above three. But for the purpose of this blogpost, I’m only focusing on sourcing.
I’ll also preface with the fact that I may be biased. I started in venture at SkyDeck, an accelerator. Additionally, I advise at a bunch of studios, incubators and accelerators. Moreover, I worked at On Deck when we launched our accelerator. And now, I’m here at Alchemist Accelerator.
I truly love early-stage programs. The earlier the better.
Instacart’s recent IPO is a clear example of venture returns compared to the public market equivalent as a function of stage. The earlier you invest, the more alpha you generate to your most liquid comparable.
It’s the difference between a market maker and a market taker. A price maker and a price taker.
Though admittedly, one day, this too may become saturated, just like how venture capital went from 50-60 funds in ’07 and ’08 to now over 4000 in 2023. Do fact check me on exact numbers, but I believe I’m directionally accurate.
Let me give a more concrete example. Harvard is a phenomenal institution. And there’s a Wikipedia page full of breakout Harvard alums. But as an LP, if 50% of your managers, despite having different theses, all have half their portfolio as Harvard alums, then you as the LP are overexposed to the same underlying asset. The same is true for Stanford. Or seed or Series A funds investing in YC founders. All great institutions, but you’re not getting your buck’s worth of diversification.
The only caveat here is if you’re not looking for diversification. After all, the best performing fund would be the fund that invested a 100% of their fund in Google at the seed round. AND holding it till today. Realistically, they will have had to distribute on IPO.
The question is are you a fisher? Or are you a digger? One requires a fishing rod; the other a shovel. The latter requires more work, but you’re more likely to be the first to gold. Like Eniac was for mobile. Or Lux to deep tech.
So how do you know you’re fishing in someone else’s pond?
Easy. Your deal flow includes someone’s else’s brand. Whether that’s Sequoia or YC or SBIR. It’s not your own. You don’t own that pipeline. A lot of people have access to it. It’s no longer about proprietary deal flow, but about proprietary access to deals to borrow a framing from the amazing Beezer.
If your deal flow pipeline looks something like the graph below, you probably don’t have a sourcing advantage.
Now that’s not to say there aren’t a lot of nonobvious companies coming out of YC or these startup accelerators. Airbnb, Sendbird, Twitch (the last of which Ravi who I work with here at Alchemist happened to be one of the first institutional investor for, so have heard some of these stories), and more were all non-obvious coming out of YC. And have also seen the same for companies coming out of Techstars, 500, and Alchemist, where I call home now. But that’s a picking advantage, not a sourcing one.
The flip side is, how do you know you’re excavating your own pond?
I’ll preface by saying having your own Slack or Discord “community” is not enough. Or having your own podcast.
I put community in quotes simply because having XXX members in a large group chat isn’t indicative that their presence is really there. Is their seat warm or cold?
I love using a stadium analogy. Imagine you sold a couple thousand season tickets to a team. You can name whatever sport it is. Football (yes, the rough American kind). Soccer. Basketball. Baseball. You name it. But despite all the tickets you sell, a solid percentage of your seats each game is empty. Can you really say that your team has fans? All you did was sell a couple of cold seats.
You can make the same analogy with likes or comments on Instagram. Which seems to be a problem these days, when an influencer with a couple thousand likes per post starts hosting their fan meetups, only to realize they rented out an empty hall. In case, you’re wondering for the IG example, it’s due to bots.
All that said, I like to think about excavation in the lens of competition for attention. Everyone only has 24 hours in a day. 7 days in a week. 365 days in a year. And as someone who is expecting any level of engagement from others, you are fighting for attention with every other product, person, and habit out there.
Perks of being a consumer investor, I think about this a lot. But in the same way, having an unfair sourcing advantage is the same.
Is the greatest source of your deals tuning into you at least four of the seven calendar days in a week? Or if you have a professional audience (i.e. only product people, or only execs), are they engaging at least 3 workdays per week or 8 workdays per month? Are they spending more time reading/listening/engaging with you than with their best friend?
If you have a community, do you have solid product-market fit? Is your daily active to monthly active over 50%? You don’t need a massive audience, but for the people who are primary sources of your deal flow, are you top of mind? As Andrew Chensays, at that point, “it’s part of a daily habit.”
Is it easy for them to share your content, what you’re doing, who you are with others? Does sharing you or your content generate dopamine and social capital for them? Do you embody something aspirational? Is your viral coefficient greater than 0.5? Even better if it’s 1, then you’re ready to go viral.
And do people stick around? Do the seats stay warm? Is your community self-propagating? Is your content evergreen? Or do you produce content at a voracious pace that it doesn’t have to be? Do you live rent free in people’s brain?
And once you do invest, are you the weapon in the arsenal of choice? For instance, 65% of Signalfire’s portfolio use their platform weekly to learn and get advice. But more on the winning side in a future essay.
In closing
To truly have a sourcing advantage, you need to be building your own platform that is impressionable and regularly take mind space from the founder audience. But if you don’t, that’s okay. You just need to be really good at picking and winning.
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.
On Wednesday this week, I hosted an intimate dinner with founders in the windy backdrop of San Francisco. And I’m writing this piece, I can’t help but recall one founder from that evening asking us all to play a little game she built. A mini mobile test to see if we could tell the difference between real headshot portraits and AI-generated ones based on the former. There were 15 picture. Each where we had to pick one of two choices: real or AI.
10/15. 6/15. 9/15. 11/15. 8/15… By the time it was my turn, having seen the looks of confusion of my predecessors, I wasn’t confident in my own ability to spot the difference. Then again, I was neither the best nor the worst when it came to games of Where’s Waldo? 90 quick seconds later, a score popped up. 10/15. Something slightly better than chance.
Naturally, we asked the person who got 11/15 if he knew something we didn’t. To which, he shared his hypothesis. A seemingly sound and quite intellectual conjecture. So, we asked him to try again to see if his odds would improve. 90 seconds later, 6/15.
Despite the variance in scores, none were the wiser.
Michael Mauboussin shared a great line recently. “Intuition is a situation where you’ve trained your system one in a particular domain to be very effective. For that to work, I would argue that you need to have a system, so this is the system level, that it’s fairly linear and stable. So linear in that sense, I mean really the cause and effect are pretty clear. And stable means the basic rules of the game don’t change all that much.”
For our real-or-AI game, we lacked that clear cause and effect. If we received individual question scores of right or wrong, we’d probably have ended up building intuition more quickly.
Venture is unfortunately an industry that is stable, but not very linear. In many ways, you can do everything right and still not have things work out. That same premise led to another interesting thread I saw on Twitter this week by Harry Stebbings.
In a bull market, and I was guilty of this myself, the most predictable trait came in two parts: (a) mark-ups (and graduation rates to the next round), and (b) unicorn status. In 2020 and 2021, growth equity moved upstream to win allocation when they needed it with their core check and stage. But that also meant they were less price-sensitive and disciplined in the stages preceding their core check.
The velocity of rounds coming together due to a combination of FOMO and cheap cash empowered founders to raise quickly and often. Sometimes, in half the funding window during a disciplined market. In other words, from 18 months to 9 months. Subsequently, investors found themselves with 70+% IRR and deploying capital twice or thrice as fast as they had promised their LPs. In attempts to keep up and not get priced out of deals. Many of whom believed that to be the new norm.
While the true determinant of success as an investor is how much money you actually return to your investors, or as Chris Douvos calls it moolah in da coolah, the truth is all startup investors play the long game. Games that last at least a decade. Games that are stable, but not linear. The nonlinearity, in large part, due to the sheer number of confounding variables and the weight distribution changing in different economic environments. A single fund often goes through at least one bull run and one bear run. So, because of the insanely long feedback loops and venture’s J-curve, it’s often hard to tell.
In fact, in recent news, Business Insider reported half of Sequoia’s funds since 2018 posted “losses” for the University of California endowment. We’re in the beginning of 2023. In other words, we’re at most five years out. While I don’t have any insider information, time will tell how much capital Sequoia will return. For now, it’s too early to pass any judgment.
The truth is most venture funds have yet to return one times their capital to their investors within five years. Funds with early exits and have a need to prove themselves to LPs to raise a subsequent fund are likely to see early DPI, but many established funds hold and/or recycle carry. Sequoia being one of the latter. After all, typical recycling periods are 3-4 years. In other words, a fund can reinvest their early moolah in da coolah in the first 3-4 years back into the fund to make new investments. There is a dark side to recycling, but a story for another time. Or a read of Chris Neumann’s piece will satiate any current surplus of curiosity.
But I digress.
In the insane bull run of 2020 and 2021, the startup world became a competition of who could best sell their company’s future as a function of their — the founders’ — past. It became a world where people chased signal and logos. A charismatic way to weave a strong narrative behind logos on a resume seemed to be the primary predictors of founder “success.” And in a market with a surplus of deployable capital and heightened expectations (i.e. 50x or higher valuation multiples on revenue), unicorn status had never been easier to reach.
As of January of this year — 2023, if you’re a time traveler from the future, there are over 1,200 unicorns in the world. 200 more than the beginning of 2022. Many who have yet to go back to market for cash, and will likely need a haircut. Yet for so many funds, the unicorn rate is one of the risks they underwrite.
I was talking with an LP recently where he pointed out the potential fallacy of a fund strategy predicated on unicorn exits. There have only been 118 companies that have historically acquired unicorns. And only four of the 118 have acquired more than four venture-backed unicorns. Microsoft sitting at 12. Google at 8. And Meta and Amazon at 5 each. Given that a meaningful percentage of the 1200 unicorns will need a haircut in their next fundraise, like Stripe and Instacart, we’re likely going to see a slowdown of unicorns in the foreseeable future. And for those on the cusp to slip below the unicorn threshold. Some investors have preemptively marked down their assets by 25-30%. Others waiting to see the ball drop.
The impending future is one not on multiples but one of business quality, namely revenue and revenue growth. All that to say, unless you’re growing the business, exit opportunities are slim if you’re just betting on having unicorn acquisitions in your portfolio.
So while many investors will claim unicorn rate as their metric for success, it’s two degrees of freedom off of the true North.
In the bear market we are in today, the world is now a competition of the quality of business, rather than the quality of words. At the pre-seed stage, companies who are generating revenue have no trouble raising, but companies who don’t are struggling more.
As Andy Rachleff recently pointed out, “Valuations are not the way you judge a venture capitalist, or multiples of their fund. […] The way that I judge a venture capitalist is by how many companies did they back that grew into $100M revenue businesses.” If you bring in good money, whether an exit to the public market or to a partner, you’re a business worth acquiring. A brand and hardly any revenue, if acquired, is hardly going to fetch a good price. And I’ve heard from many LPs and longtime GPs that we’re in for a mass extinction if businesses don’t pivot back to fundamentals quickly. What are fundamentals? Non-dilutive cash in the bank. In other words, paying customers.
Bull markets welcome an age of chasing revenue multiples (expectation and sentiment). Bear markets welcome an age of chasing revenue.
The latter are a lot more linear and predictable than the former.
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.
“‘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.
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.
If you’re a regular on this blog, you’re probably no stranger to my essays on cold emails – whether it’s my cold outreach mental model or lessons from replying to spam emails or how I write longer cold emails as opposed to shorter. Yet, I recently realized I’ve shared my thoughts on the pre-game and the game itself, but I’ve yet to write on the post-game. So this essay is dedicated to exactly that. What do you do after you send that initial cold email?
The short answer: If you want to stand out, always follow up. To quote my good friend, Christen on her TikTok, where she shares amazing soundbites of career advice and networking.
The longer answer
I met a founder once who emailed an executive at Disney every business day for almost one year, minus ten days. The caveat is at the top of every daily email he wrote, “If you want me to stop, I will.” Almost a year after he began, the executive took the meeting. And Disney is now one of this startup’s biggest customers.
I met another founder a few years ago, who retweeted tweets from a Forbes’ Midas 100 VC every week for three months, while including his own constructive commentary each time. So, when this founder began his fundraise three months later, this VC set up a meeting with that founder within two hours of the cold email, first thanking the founder for his thoughts over the past few months.
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.
So, what is the common thread here?
As my friend once told me, “It’s not hard to be persistent. Most people can easily be. But most people aren’t persistent AND considerate.” Persistence is keeping your promises to yourself. Being considerate is respecting and keeping your promises to others – explicit and implicit. Explicitly, if you say you’re going to do something, do it. Implicitly, understand the social context, their schedule, their cognitive load. One of the lines I always add at the bottom (or sometimes at the top) of my cold outreaches:
“I know you get a hundred emails a day, and if you don’t have any time to respond, I completely understand.”
To take that one step further, sometimes you’re reasonably confident they won’t have time to respond. Big life or career events may make it hard for them to respond, like:
New baby/paternity/maternity leave
New publication
Recently did a (podcast) interview
Released some version of viral content (i.e. YouTube video, TikTok, Clubhouse, Twitter, etc.)
Founder raising a new round
Upcoming product launch they’re a key player in
VC raising a new fund
Shit hit the fan
Anything else the press is actively writing about
If that is your assumption, I add in one more line:
“If you don’t have time to respond, I’ll follow up one week [or whatever other timeframe] from today.”
And once you’ve said it, do it. To save you the time to draft up a follow up email a week later, a hack I use is to just write that follow up email as soon as you send the first email. Then schedule it to send a week from the day you sent the first. Make sure that each follow-up email isn’t the exact same. Show updates on what you learned, found, or thought about, as well as additional value to the person you’re reaching out to. While this hack is the bare minimum of what you can do to follow up, this should never be the ceiling. 9 out of 10 times I find myself going back, cancelling the send, updating the email with my learnings, then re-scheduling it.
Follow up at least twice after you send the initial cold email. But be understanding of their circumstances. And of course, never overstay your welcome. Understand the difference between a soft “no” and a hard “no”. In the circumstances of a soft “no”, recognize the variables that led to it. And reach back out when those variables are not in play, or to your best guess.
In closing
I met a brilliant founder years ago who, at the time, scaled his business to 100 employees, and he told me something that resonates with me till this day. “You can only learn from experience, but it doesn’t necessarily have to be yours.” Though I learned of his saying a few years after, it summarizes why I started my 6-year at least once a week cold outreach streak. To learn vicariously through others’ experiences. And if that was and is the impetus, it’d be a shame if I didn’t see it through to the best of my ability. ‘Cause if I was gonna give up after just sending one email, why start?
As Ron Swanson once said, “Never half-ass two things; whole-ass one thing.” So if you’re gonna start with the first email, you might as well send the next two. If the first shot doesn’t swish, catch the rebound and shoot again. Persistence. And ideally rebound thoughtfully.
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