One of the most common questions I get from first-time founders, as well as those outside the Bay Area, is: “Who is/How do I find the best investor for our startup?” Often underscored by circumstances of:
Raising their first round of funding
Finding the best angel investors
Doesn’t have a network in the Bay Area or with investors
While I try to be as helpful as I can in providing names and introductions, more often than not, I don’t know. I usually don’t know who’s the best final denominator, but I do know where and how to start. In other words, how to build a network, when you don’t think you have one. I emphasize “think” because the world is so connected these days. And you’re at most a 2nd or 3rd degree connection from anyone you might wanna meet. Plus, so many early-stage investors spend time on brand-building via Medium, Quora, Twitter, Substack, podcasting, blogging, and maybe even YouTube. It’s not hard to do a quick Google search to find them.
“Googling” efficiency
While I do recommend starting your research independently first, if you really are stumped, DM me on my socials or drop me a line via this blog. Of course, this is not a blog post to tell you to just “Google it”. After all, that would be me being insensitive. Here’s how I’d start.
One of the greatest tools I picked up from my high school debate days was learning to use Google search operators. Like:
“[word]” – Quotes around a word or words enforces that keyword, meaning it has to exist in the search items
site: – Limits your search query to results with this domain
intitle: – Webpages with that keyword in its title
inurl: – URLs containing that keyword
Say you’re looking for investors. I would start with a search query of:
Feel free to refine the above searches to “angel investors” or “pre-seed funds”.
Landing and expanding your investor/advisor network
I was chatting with a friend, first-time founder, recently who’s gearing up for her fundraising frenzy leading up to Demo Day. She asked me, “Who should I be talking to?” While I could only name a few names since I wasn’t super familiar with the fashion industry, I thought my “subject-matter expert network expansion” system would be more useful. SMENE. Yes, I made that name up on the spot. If you have a better nomination, please do let me know. But I digress.
First, while you might not think you have the network you want, leverage who you know to get a beachhead into the SMEN (SME network) you want. Yes I also made up that acronym just now. But don’t just ask anyone, ask your friends who are founders, relative experts/enthusiasts, and investors. Ideally with experience/knowledge in the same/similar vertical or business model.
Second, if you feel like you don’t have those, just reach out to people who are founders, relative experts/enthusiasts, and investors. Via Twitter, Quora, LinkedIn, Clubhouse. Or maybe something more esoteric. I know Li Jin and Justin Kan are on TikTok and Garry Tan and Allie Miller are on Instagram. You’d be surprised at how far a cold email/message go. If it helps, here’s my template for doing so.
Then you ask them three questions:
Who is/would your dream investor be? And two names at most.
Or similarly, who is the first (or top 2) people they think of when I say [insert your industry/business model]?
Who, of their existing investors, if they were to build a new business tomorrow in a similar sector, is the one person who would be a “no brainer” to bring back on their cap table?
Who did they pitch to that turned them down for investment, but still was very helpful?
For each of the above questions, why two names at most? Two names because any more means people are scraping their minds for “leftovers”. And there’s a huge discrepancy between the A-players in their mind and the B-players. Then you reach out/get intro’ed to those people they suggested. Ask them the exact same question at the end of the conversation (whether they invest or not). And you do it over and over again, until you find the investor with the right fit.
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Founders often ask me what’s the best way to cold email an investor. *in my best TV announcer voice* Do you want to know the one trick to get replies for your cold email startup pitches that investors don’t want you to know? Ok, I lied. No investor ever said they don’t want founders to know this, but how else am I going to get a clickbait-y question? Time and time again, I recommend them to start with the one (at most two) metrics they are slaying with. Even better if that’s in the subject line. Like “Consumer social startup with 50% MoM Growth”. Or “Bottom-up SaaS startup with 125% NDR”. Before you even intro what your startup does, start with the metric that’ll light up an investor’s eyes.
Why? It’s a sales game. The goal of a cold email is to get that first meeting. Investors get hundreds of emails a week. And if you imagine their inbox is the shelf at the airport bookstore, your goal is to be that book on display. Travelers only spend minutes in the store before they have to go to their departure gate. Similarly, investors scroll through their inbox looking for that book with the cover art that fascinates them. The more well-known the investor, the less time they will spend skimming. And if you ask any investor what’s the number one thing they look for in an investment, 9 out of 10 VCs will say traction, traction, traction. So if you have it, make it easy for them to find.
That said, in terms of traction, most likely around the A, what growth metrics would be the attention grabber in that subject line?
Strictly annual growth
A while back, my friend, Christen of TikTok fame, sent me this tweetstorm by Sam Parr, founder of one of my favorite newsletters out there, The Hustle. In it, he shares five lessons on how to be a great angel investor from Andrew Chen, one of the greatest thought leaders on growth. Two lessons in particular stand out:
And…
Why 3x? If you’re growing fast in the beginning, you’re more likely to continue growing later on. Making you very attractive to investors’ eyes – be it angels, VCs, growth and onwards. Neeraj Agrawal of Battery Ventures calls it the T2D3 rule. Admittedly, it’s not R2-D2’s cousin. Rather, once your get to $2M ARR (annual recurring revenue), if you triple your revenue each year 2 years in a row, then double every year the next 3 years, you’ll get to $100M ARR and an IPO. More specifically, you go from 2 to 6, then 18, 36, 72, and finally $144M ARR. More or less that puts you in the billion dollar valuation, aka unicorn status. And if you so choose, an IPO is in your toolkit.
For context, tripling annually is about a 10% MoM (month-over-month) growth rate. And depending on your business, it doesn’t have to be revenue. It could be users if you’re a social app. Or GMV if you’re a marketplace for goods. As you hit scale, the SaaS Rule of 40 is a nice rule of thumb to go by. An approach often used by growth investors and private equity, where, ideally, your annual growth rate plus your profit margin is equal to or greater than 40%. And at the minimum, your growth rate is over 30%.
For viral growth, many consumer and marketplace startups have defaulted to influencer marketing, on top of Google/FB ads. And if that’s what you’re doing as well, Facebook’s Brand Collabs Manager might help you get started, which I found via my buddy Nate’s weekly marketing newsletter. Free, and helps you identify which influencers you should be working with.
But what if you haven’t gotten to $2M ARR? Or you’ve just gotten there, what other metrics should you prepare in your data room?
Last week, I reconnected with Shuo, founding partner of IOVC, and one of the first people I reached out to when I began my career in venture. That day, I asked her a pretty stupid question, “Given the rise of solo capitalists, rolling funds, equity crowdfunding, and the democratization of capital, do you think now’s a good time to raise a fund?“
She replied, “I don’t know. It could be a good time now. It could be a good time five years from now. If you’re set on sticking around for the long term, it really doesn’t matter. ‘Cause whether it’s a good time or not, you’re going to be raising a fund regardless. So just do it.”
Not gonna lie, it was serious wake-up call. While I was initially looking for her perspective on the changing venture market, what she said was right. If you’re set on doing something, say starting a fund or a business, the “right time” to start is irrelevant. The world around us changes so much so frequently. We only know when’s the right time in hindsight. So focus on what we can control. Which is starting and doing.
So as an aspiring founder, which idea do you start with? And how do you test it?
Starting a business is scary
Starting a business is scary for most people. And well, the government doesn’t always make it easy to do so. Just like what WordPress and Squarespace did for websites, you have companies, like Stripe (and their Stripe Atlas), Square, Shopify, Kickstarter, just to name a few, streamlining the whole process for entrepreneurship. For an aspiring entrepreneur, not only is it taking that leap of faith, before you begin, there’s a slew of things you have to worry about:
Figure out how to incorporate your business (C-corp, LLC, or S-corp),
Assign directors and officers to your business,
Buy the stock, so you actually own your stock,
Learn to file your taxes (multiple forms, including your 83(b) election),
When you raise funding, get a 409A valuation,
And that’s just the beginning.
Of course for the above, do consult with your professional lawyer and accountant. It’s two of the few startup expenses I really recommend not skimping on. While the purpose of this post isn’t designed to solve all the documents you’ll have to go through in starting a business, hopefully, this will help with one front – taking that leap of faith. Specifically finding early validation for your idea.
You can test the validity of an idea faster by writing than with code.
Writing well trains your ability to sell.
Publishing regularly gets you comfortable with shipping early and often.
To which he cited one of my favorite Reid-isms: “If you’re not embarrassed by the first version of your product, you’ve launched too late.” – Reid Hoffman
Writing is easier for most people to pick up than coding.
There’s a “5th reason” as well, but I’ll let you uncover that yourself. Talk about creativity. Side note. Max created one of my favorite personal websites to date.
Much like Max, I write to think. And in sharing my raw thoughts outside of the world of startups via the #unfiltered series, often far from perfect, as well as my take in this fast-changing universe, my cadence of writing twice a week has forced my brain to be accustomed to the velocity of growth. In the sense, I better be learning and fact-checking my growth week over week. Over time, I’ve developed my own mental model of finding idea and content catalysts.
Of course, if you know me, I just had to reach out. Particularly around the third point in his tweetstorm.
What mental models or practices did he use to help him wrestle with his embarrassment from his own writing? And he replied with two loci that provided so much more context:
“Reading other writers who open up way more than I do, which makes what I’m doing feel easy by comparison. Two favorites I’d recommend are Haley Nahman and Ava from Bookbear Express.”
And another I binged for an hour last night. Talk about counterintuitive lessons. My favorites so far are Stephen’s 12th and 16th issue. You might not agree with everything, but he really does challenge your thinking. Thank you Max for the rec.
“Publicly committing to writing weekly and finding that the embarrassment of publishing was outweighed by the embarrassment I’d feel if I missed a week. Also, like all things, I’ve found it very much gets easier with practice.”
Why not both?
Then again, why not both? I go back to Guillaume‘s, founder of lemlist, recent LinkedIn post. He says:
And he’s completely right. If I were to analogize…
Writer = common Writer + coder = uncommon And… writer + coder + X = holy grail
You don’t have to own one unique skill. And in this day in age, there aren’t that many individually unique skills out there that haven’t been ‘discovered’ yet. Rather than search for the singularly unique skill that you can acquire, I’d place a larger bet on a combination of skill sets that can make you unique. As a founder, test your ideas early with writing. If there’s evidence of it sticking, build it with code. And it doesn’t just to be just writing and code, whatever set of skills you can acquire more quickly and deeper with the circumstances and experiences you have. Even better if there’s a positive flywheel effect between your skills.
In closing
There’s a Chinese proverb that goes something along the lines of, “The best time to plant a tree was 20 years ago. The second best time is now.” And it circles back to Reid’s quote that Max cited, “If you’re not embarrassed by the first version of your product, you’ve launched too late.” As an entrepreneur, or as an emerging fund manager, it’s a given you’re going to mess things up. But all the time fretting around at the starting line is time better spent stumbling and standing back up.
I followed up with Shuo after our call, and she elaborated a bit more, “In all honesty, you can argue now is a good time (a lot of capital available for good managers) or a bad time (valuations are frothy), but in the long-term, these variables even out and it’s how you add value as an investor that’s most important.”
If I were to liken that same insight to aspiring entrepreneurs… Yes, investors look for timing. And yes, understanding the timing of the market is important, when you’re launching a product that will revolutionize the way we live in a fundamental way. But that boils down to which idea you plan to pursue. But if you’re looking to be a founder, it’s finding that overlap in the 3-way Venn diagram between (1) what the market needs and (2) where you, as the founder, can provide the most value. And (3) where your competitors are not maximizing their potential in.
For many aspiring founders, that first step can be practicing the art of writing. Writing for clarity. Writing to practice selling. Learning to ship early and embracing imperfection. Frankly, it’s also something I need to get better at myself.
Though I’m not a religious fellow, I’m reminded of a quote from Jesus’ teaching, which I first found in Jerry Colonna’s book, Reboot. “If you bring forth what is in you, what is in you will save you. If you do not bring forth what is in you, what is in you will destroy you.” Writing is that act of bringing forth what is in you. And well, if you’re like me, I often find my greatest regrets come from a lack of action rather than in taking action.
Thank you Shuo and Max for reviewing early drafts of this essay.
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Ever since I started my career in VC, I’ve been trying to understand the concept of “intuition”. Yet, it wasn’t after I’d seen over 500 pitch decks and met over 100 founders before I began to have an inkling of what intuition meant. In fact, embarrassingly so, when I first started at SkyDeck, Berkeley’s startup accelerator, I thought every other startup I met was gonna be a winner. After all, it was rather rare that a founder wouldn’t be excited about their idea at the first meeting. I was told again and again by investors, one of the key drivers for a startup is the founder’s passion. I thought, well, the numbers might not be there yet. But with this founder’s excitement, they’ll get there eventually. And quickly, I mistook “hopefully” as “eventually”. Two words with very different meanings.
You don’t have to be a full-time investor to know that I was quite off the mark. I soon and quickly learned that passion can be faked, especially in the first meeting. And on that journey, I realized how important having a large and deep sample size was. Large, in the sense of number of founding teams I was meeting. Deep, in the sense of spending longer hours with these teams. Of course, realistically, I couldn’t spend more time with everyone I met, but that also meant I shouldn’t just spend half an hour with them and call it a day. My general rule of thumb became I was going to meet every founder at least twice, and at least a week apart. This gave me:
Time to cool my head from the excitement of the meeting
Am I more, less, or just as excited to meet them in meeting two as I was in meeting one?
If I were [insert my mentor’s name], would I do the deal? Why or why not?
Sometimes, it was really helpful to put myself in the shoes of someone’s who’s way more experienced than I am.
Time to approach the opportunity more analytically
Does it align with the macro trends I’ve seen?
Do they have some early semblance of product-market fit? Why can that be an early proxy for it?
Would I be a power user?
Is their origin story enough to compel them towards this idea for the next 7-10 years? Are they meant/”destined” to do this?
Would they be able to succeed without me? Without funding?
Is venture funding a path they need to take towards growth? What about equity crowdfunding? Bootstrapping? Reaching profitability via a tweak in their business model?
Of course, there were, are, and will be exceptions.
Alfred Chuang of Race Capital recently shared his “co-founder test”: “People asked me so well, how do you determine this is a company you want to invest in. In early stage, I say if this company I want to co-founded with, that I will, in any moment jump on my own two feet in the building, the company would have found this, I don’t do it. Wow. Right. That’s where the conviction come from. Right? This is the ultimate gut test, you don’t pass that gut test, you don’t do it. So I urge the founders on either side to say, Well, think of me as your co-founder. If you don’t think of me as a co-founder, don’t do the deal with me.”
I recently tuned into one of Basecamp‘s Jason Fried‘s latest interviews, in which he describes how he chooses to pursue projects based on feel. Particularly when he gets the goosebumps. Similar to him, and I’m sure many others, I regret far more of what I say yes to than what I say no to. It’s not that I jump in knowing I will regret my decision. In fact, I’m usually pretty sure I won’t. Nevertheless, in only a rare few circumstances, is it a full-body yes, as Tim Ferriss would call it. VCs, as with any investor or buyer, aren’t immune to buyer’s remorse.
When imagining what could go right – the greatest, most impactful possible upside, does it send happy chills down my spine? Am I riffing off their energy and actively throwing ideas out? Am I unconsciously trying to hit my limit on words per minute? If so…
Some investors call it intuition. Others call it conviction. I’m gonna need my own pretentious phrase. Let’s call it the goosebump test.
My goosebumps will undoubtedly evolve over time. It will react to new stimuli, based on my accumulated knowledge and experience. It will also learn from the scar tissue that will form in the future. While I will try to follow my goosebumps as much as I can, they will undoubtedly also fail me at times. Just like how I wouldn’t be as excited now by some of the startups that got me excited back at SkyDeck, I imagine there will be a healthy handful that I do now that my body will learn from in the future. And I will continue to do my best to codify my learnings and share my scar tissue for myself and on this blog over time.
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“Ego is about who is right. Truth is about what is right.” – Mike Maples Jr.
I distinctly remember reading this soundbite on page 64 years ago in Tim Ferriss‘ then-new book, Tribe of Mentors. With the recent string of world events over the past few months, I’m reminded once again of this line. It’s strange to think that our most available mentors come in the form of books. Yet, every time I realize this fact, I seem to stumble upon another Eureka moment.
I was a passively-rebellious kid growing up. Though not often, there were times I would swing left when my parents said right. High school, on the other hand, did not make it any easier for my parents. As if puberty was not enough, in high school speech and debate, I learned to play the devil’s advocate on nearly everything. Frankly, it didn’t matter if they were right or not. And in more times than I am willing to admit, I found myself in trouble for not heeding my parents’ advice. Physically. But more often, emotionally. I was just emotionally antagonistic to my own wellbeing. Something I was unwilling to admit for quite a while.
We live in an era where many debates have spiraled down the path of: “If I’m right, you’re wrong” or “If I’m wrong, you’re right.” But most issues – and I might even be as bold as to say, all issues – are not nearly as binary. Debates have become arguments rather than conversations. We fail to realize great constructive conversations are never zero sum. Socratic discussions lead to nuance and a spectrum of colors that are dimensionally vast. Many of us have chosen what is the easiest for us to swallow in that moment. That soundbites resonate more than 3-hour debate. We’ve turned our attention towards ephemeral efficiency rather than robust literacy. At the same time, we need to balance complexity with simplicity. Sometimes, matters aren’t as complicated as we make them out to be. Other times, they are and possibly more so.
Someone I deeply respect once told me. “The quality of your words are determined not by what comes out of your mouth, but by how much reaches another person’s ears.” Oddly enough, we fail to use our senses in the proportions nature gave to us. Two ears. One mouth. Yet, we often act as if we have two mouths and one ear. And I am not immune to that fact.
Over the years, due to the accumulation of scar tissue, I’ve learned to abstract who from what they are saying. When I hear advice, opinions or even facts from someone I am emotionally aloof or antagonistic with, I ask myself, if someone I deeply respect said the exact same thing, would I still be as averse as I am now?
If still so, why? What are my underlying assumptions to oppose such a claim?
Similarly, if someone I deeply respect (even blindly so) says something I agree with too quickly, would this piece of advice hold the same gravitas if it came from someone with little social capital?
Of course, the above is much easier when my inner weather isn’t hormonally turbulent. But when it is, I breathe deeply thrice. And ask myself the question again. And if still turbulent, then I repeat until I’m ready to face my own ego.
#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.
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I want to preface this piece by first saying, though I have LP (limited partner) friends, I’ve never been an LP. So take everything with a grain of salt. For that matter, even I have been an LP, still take this with a grain of salt. After all it’s just my one perspective on the world. Nevertheless, I hope this perspective helps to provide some context around the venture space. As it did for me.
For years, I’ve recommended my friends who were looking at startup job opportunities to think like a VC. And having chatted a number of firms over the years about scout, associate/analyst, venture partner roles, I’ve come to a new revelation. Or rather one that I’ve practiced for a while, but haven’t connected the dots until recently.
When you’re looking for VC job opportunities, think like an LP. I’ve written about the LP calculus a few times before, like:
The bull and bear case of rolling funds, and how the emerging fund manager can win in this saturated market
How have you thought about your own differentiation that gets you access to some of the uniquely fund-defining opportunities you have?
What are the startups in your anti-portfolio? And what have you learned since from them?
[if their funds are wildly different in fund size (i.e. Fund I – $20M, Fund II – $100M)] How do you think about fund strategy now versus Fund [t_now-1]?
For context, usually each subsequent fund doubles in size. i.e. Fund I $20M, Fund II $40-50M, Fund III $80-100M
[If they have fund advisors, EIRs, and/or scouts] How do you pick advisors? What is your mental model for picking scouts?
Or one of my favorite phrasings: How do you differentiate the good from the great [advisors/scouts]?
Over the weekend, my friend sent me a great podcast for me to unwind. In it, I found an unlikely hero soundbite. “Your library holds a lot of value that you may not know until the story arrives. […] No one’s selling characters ’cause they’re one story away from this character becoming a hit.” While its context is related to why Marvel won’t sell any of its superheroes, Alex Segura‘s, co-president of Archie Comic Publications, anecdote proves just as insightful to the world of venture.
Discovering first-time early-stage founders is hard. The same is true for finding the next killer GP or venture firm. AngelList’s Rolling Funds are democratizing access to capital, lowering the barrier to entry for emerging fund managers. And really the success of a fund is determined by its MOIC – multiple on invested capital. 5x and up would be ideal. And that, like I mentioned in my last blogpost, boils down to the fund’s top one or two winners. Loosely analogized to a fund’s unicorn rate (percent of portfolio that are unicorns). In other words, the “one [investment] away from this [fund] becoming a hit.”
To see if a fund can consistently find those stories boils down to its systems. Often times, you’re joining a fund that has yet to have a runaway success. Or a fund that has a fund returner. So, instead, you’re looking at their thesis and if their thesis allows them to be:
The best dollar on the cap table of a startup in their scope
Forward-thinking enough to see where the market is heading, rather than where it’s been
And by definition of being forward-thinking, taking bets/risks that few other VCs would, yet calculated enough to make logical sense given the trajectory of the market. In other words, is the thesis grounded on first principles, yet able to capture their second-order effects?
That, in turn, requires you as a VC applicant to have decent literacy in the market the firm is betting in.
As James Clear, author of Atomic Habits, wrote, “You do not rise to the level of your goals. You fall to the level of your systems.” What are their mental models? Fund strategy? How do they think about portfolio construction? About capital allocation? And more importantly, time allocation?
If you’re looking to learn more about GP-LP dynamics, I highly recommend Samir Kaji’s Venture Unlocked podcast and Notation Capital’s Origins podcast.
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I’ve written about product-market fit on numerous occasions including in the context of metrics, pricing, PMF mindsets, just to name a few. And one of the leading ways to measure PMF is still NPS – the net promoter score. The question: On a scale of one to ten, how likely would you recommend this product to a friend?
As investors, while a lagging indicator, it’s a metric we expect founders to have their finger always on the pulse for their customers. Yet how often do investors measure their own NPS? How likely would you, the founder, recommend this fund/firm/partner(s) to your founder friend(s)?
Let’s look for a second from the investor side of the table…
Mike Maples Jr. of Floodgate pioneered the saying, “Your fund size is your strategy.” Your fund size determines your check size and what’s the minimum you need to return. For example, if you have a $10M pre-seed fund, you might be writing 20 $250K checks and have a 1:1 reserve ratio (aka 50% of your funds are for follow-on investments, like exercising your pro rata or round extensions). Equally so, to have a great multiple on invested capital (MOIC) of 5x, you need to return $50M. So if you have a 10% ownership target, you’re investing in companies valued around $2.5M. If two of your companies exit at $200M acquisition, you return $20M each, effectively quadrupling your fund. You only need a couple more exits to make that 5x for your LPs. And that’s discounting dilution.
On the flip side, if you have a $100M fund with a $2-3M check size and a 20% ownership target, you’re investing in $10-15M companies. Let’s say your shares dilute down to 10% by the time of a company’s exit. If they exit at unicorn status, aka $1B, you’ve only returned your fund. Nothing more, nothing less. Meaning you’ll have to chase either bigger exits, or more unicorns. But that’s hard to do. Even one of the best in the industry, Sequoia, has around a 5% unicorn rate. Or in other words, of every 20 companies Sequoia invests in, one is a unicorn. And that means they have really good deal flow. Y Combinator and SV Angel, who have a different fund strategy from Sequoia, sitting upstream, have around 1%.
Why does a VC’s fund strategy matter to you as the founder?
A fund with a heavily diversified portfolio, like an angel’s or accelerator’s or participating investors (as opposed to leads), means they have less time and resources to allocate to each portfolio startup. The greater the portfolio size, the less help on average each startup team will get. That’s not to say you shouldn’t seek funding from funds with large AUMs (assets under management). One example is if you have an extremely passionate champion of your space/product at these large funds, I’d go with it.
I wrote late last year about founder-investor fit. And in it, I talk about Harry Hurst‘s check-size-to-helpfulness ratio (CS:H). In this ratio, you’re trying to maximize for helpfulness. Ideally, if the fund writes you a $1M check, they’re adding in $10M+ in additive value. And based on a fund’s strategy (i.e. lead investors vs not, $250K or $5M checks, scout programs or solo capitalist + advisory networks, etc.), it’ll determine how helpful they can be to you at the stage you need them.
If you were to plan out your next 18-24 months, take your top three priorities. And specifically, find investors that can help you address those. For example, if you’re looking for intros to potential companies in your sales pipeline and all a VC has to do is send a warm intro to their network/portfolio for you, bigger funds might be more useful. On the other hand, if you’re struggling to find a revenue model for your business, and you need more help than one-offs and quarterly board meetings, I’d look to work with an investor with a smaller portfolio or a solo capitalist. If you’re creating a brand new market, find someone with deep operating experience and domain expertise (even if it’s in an adjacent market), rather than a generalist fund.
While there’s no one-size-fits-all and there are exceptions, here are two ways I think about helpfulness, in other words, value adds:
The uncommon – Differentiators
The common – What everybody else is doing
The uncommon
Of course, this might be the more obvious of the pair. But you’d be surprised at how many founders overlook this when they’re actually fundraising. You want to work with investors that have key differentiators that you need at that stage of your company. By nature of being uncommon, there are million out there. But here are a few examples I’ve seen over the years:
Ability to build communities having built large followings
Content creation + following (i.e. blog, podcast, Clubhouse, etc.)
Getting in’s to top executives at Fortune 500 companies
Closing government contracts
Access/domain expertise on international markets
In-house production teams
They know how to hustle (i.e. Didn’t have a traditional path to VC, yet have some of the biggest and best LPs out there in their fund)
Ability to get you on the front page of NY Times, WSJ, or TechCrunch
Strong network of top executives looking for new opportunities (i.e. EIRs, XIRs)
Influencer network
Category leaders/definers (i.e. Li Jin on the passion economy, Ryan Hoover on communities)
Having all accelerator portfolio founder live under the same roof for the duration of the program (i.e. Wefunder’s XX Fund pre-pandemic)
Surprisingly, not as common as I thought, VCs that pick up your call “after hours”
The common
Packy McCormick, who writes this amazing blog called Not Boring, wrote in one of his pieces, “Here’s the hard thing about easy things: if everyone can do something, there’s no advantage to doing it, but you still have to do it anyway just to keep up.” Although Packy said it in context to founders, I believe the same is true for VCs. Which is probably why we’ve seen this proliferation of VCs claiming to be “founder-friendly” or “founder-first” in the past half decade. While it used to be a differentiator, it no longer is. Other things include:
Money, maybe follow-on investments
Access to the VC’s network (i.e. potential customers, advisors, etc.)
Access to the partner(s) experience
Intros to downstream investors
That said, if an investor is trying to cover all their bases, that is a strategy not to lose rather than a strategy to win, to quote the conversation I had with angel investor Alex Sok recently. As long as it doesn’t come at the expense of their key differentiator. At the same time, it’s important to understand that most VCs will not allocate the same time and energy to every founder in their portfolio. If they are, well, it might be worth reconsidering working with them. It’s great if you’re not a rock-star unicorn. Means you still get the attention and help that you might want. But if you are off to the races and looking to scale and build fast, you won’t get any more help and attention that you’re ‘prescribed’. If you’re winning, you probably want your investor to double down on you.
Even if you’re not, the best investors will still be around to be as helpful as they can, just in more limited spans of time.
Finding investor NPS
You can find CS:H, or investor NPS, out in a couple of ways:
The investors are already adding value to you and your company before investing. Uncommon, but it really gives you a good idea on their value.
You find out by asking portfolio founders during your diligence.
Your founder friends are highly recommending said investor to you.
Then there’s probably the best form of validation. I’ve shared this before, but I still think it’s one of the best indicators of investor NPS. Blake Robbins once quotedBrett deMarrais of Ludlow Ventures, “There is no greater compliment, as a VC, than when a founder you passed on — still sends you deal-flow and introductions.”
In closing
“How likely would you, the founder, recommend this fund/firm/partner(s) to your founder friend(s)?” is a great question to consider when fundraising. But I want to take it a step further. NPS is usually measured on a one to ten scale. But the numbering mechanic is rather nebulous. For instance, an 8/10 on my scale may not equal an 8/10 on your scale. So your net promoter score is more so a guesstimate of the true score. While any surveying question is more or less a guesstimate, I believe this question is more actionable than the above:
If you were to start a new company tomorrow, would you still want this investor on your cap table?
With three options:
No
Yes
It’s a no-brainer.
And if you get two or more “no-brainers”, particularly from (ex-)portfolio startups that fizzled off into obscurity, I’d be pretty excited to work with that investor.
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An investor I had recently been put in touch with asked me this past Monday if I like to write. I thought it was a peculiar question at first. But it strangely kept gnawing at me as the week went on. While I can’t say for certain that it was that investor’s intention, it became a forcing function for me to reflect on my motivations.
If you’ll believe it, I used to hate writing. With a capital H. I used to dread when a teacher or professor would assign us essay prompts for homework. Many of my college and high school friends can probably attest to that fact. More so, I was the world’s best procrastinator. Ok, “best” might be overselling myself. But I had a track record for deferring my 10-/20-page essay until the night before it’s due. It was the antithesis of fun. I knew exactly what my professors sought. All I had to do was put the puzzle pieces together. Frankly, writing was a necessity to survive my academic career, not one I’d seek out as a passion.
It wasn’t always that way. In elementary school, I loved writing poetry. An exploration of my inner creativity, unrestrained by the educator’s whip. I also took part in school poetry competitions. As time went on, writing lost its sparkle, between book reports and persuasive essays.
Before this one, I started two other blogs. Neither of which lasted past three months. Both of which I started back in college. Looking back no one asked me to start a blog, much less three blogs. But looking back, I attribute each time I started a blog to the professors I had. Particularly by their rare ability to make learning fun and contagious. It was much less the content of each class, but rather, the fact that we graduated each class armed not with just answers, but with two other faculties I found indispensable over the years:
The ability to ask nuanced questions,
And the ability to find answers and questions to answer those questions.
My senior year in college I had a third catalyst for writing. As you guessed, also inspired by my professor for a class I didn’t have many expectations for when I signed up, despite hearing glowing reviews from my friends. That year I began writing in journals every day. There is no catch. There are no cheat days. We just had to ideate at least once every day. No matter how long or how short it took, once a day keeps the demons away. At the same time, outside of a promise of commitment, there were no rules. There were no rubrics. No one would grade us on how and what we wrote. Full, uncontrolled creative liberty.
It took me about three months. Slowly, but surely, the spark returned. Over time, journaling evolved into blogging. The best part is I don’t even know what the next stage of my Pokemon evolution will look like. I won’t go in depth here on how I journal these days, but if you’recurious…
Over the past year, I’ve had an increasing number of friends and readers reach out to me and ask me how writing comes so easily to me. It sure didn’t in the larger arch of my life. And not, it doesn’t… not always at least. Some days it takes longer than others. But just like how I wake up and exercise first thing in the morning, journaling is a muscle I am training every day, if not multiple times a day. Whether it’s in my journal or on my Google Keep app or on a Notion page.
That said, I think I’m far less coherent as a speaker than as a writer. I’ve had friends and mentors tell me over the years in conversation, “David, you’re not making any sense.” Unfortunately, in more occasions than I would like, I have a feeling of cognitive dissonance when speaking, which I am actively working to mend. After all, I can only hide behind the veil of asynchronicity for so long. Ironically, I’ve been engaging in more and deeper synchronous conversations than asynchronous over the course of the pandemic.
Luckily, I also haven’t gotten writer’s block yet ever since I began this blog. But there have been certain weeks where I’ve been frustrated at the quality of my journal entries. Enough so, that it never makes it onto this blog. So it goes to say, I never run out of ideas; I just sometimes run out of ideas I think are nuanced enough to share. After all, it’s why I started the #unfiltered series. George Orwell once said, “If people cannot write well, they cannot think well. And if they cannot think well, others will do their thinking for them.”
In closing
I never started this blog with the intention of tracking viewership growth. But I’d by lying if I said I wasn’t grateful and elated to see the reception of some of my essays. On days when readers reach out and say thank you, I really believe the sky’s the limit. When I reach out to people I look up to and they mention in our conversation that they enjoy the content I write, I struggle to contain my smile.
My swim coach once asked me semi-rhetorically, “David, why d’ya like to swim?” To which he followed up and said, “You like to swim because you’ve won.” While in terms of numbers I’m still far from “winning”, this modest scope of reception so far only compounds upon my creative joy.
When I pursue any endeavor in my life, I always ask myself: Are there skills, relationships, and/or enjoyment I build that transcend the pure outcome of this endeavor? (Or two cousins of this question here and here.) For this blog, yes. And it boils down to three reasons:
I write to think. It’s a process of self-discovery. On the flip side of the same token, it’s to prevent my prefrontal cortex from atrophying.
Creative joy. There’s something just so satisfying when a blank canvas turns into a cohesive illustration of my mind’s entropy.
And knowing that, no matter how miniscule, it’s inflected a handful of people’s lives upwards. That, and knowing that every so often, somebody out there will smile as they read this.
#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.
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In the venture world, the word timing is thrown around in a very canonical way. Many investors and founders mythologize the concept of timing around a business. While there is some science and data that might be able to point in the general direction, success is a lagging indicator of timing. And arguably, the only way anyone can really determine if the timing is right or not is in hindsight. Investors that said they knew the exact timing of the market may just be attributing their success to survivorship bias.
To analogize it, it’s the same as knowing when to invest in the market or in a particular stock. Everyone wants to buy at the lowest, sell at the highest. Your ROI is positively correlated with the sell price, and negatively correlated with the buy price. But when is the lowest? No one really knows for certain. We can guesstimate a timeframe with reasonable confidence, but that’s the best we can do. The same is true for measuring timing in the market. Yet there is one thing that I’ve come to learn in my years in the venture world that’s as close as you can get to the “true” timing of the market. A miracle.
Let me explain.
One miracle
Every startup needs one miracle to succeed. One. No more. No less. Elad Gil said in an interview with James Currier at nfx, “Every startup needs to have a single miracle… If your startup needs zero miracles to work, it probably isn’t a defensible startup. If your startup needs multiple miracles, it probably isn’t going to work.” He further elaborates, “If you have more than one, you have compounding small odds and that means you’re very, very likely to fail.”
Before that miracle, if you’re truly creating a revolutionary business, by definition, you’re in the non-consensus. You have more non-believers than you do believers. If it were an obvious business, then everyone would do it. If everyone does it, economically-speaking, the ROI is low. In a situation, where every kid sells lemonade with the exact same recipe by the street corner, everyone is fighting for the exact same customers. Eventually, it’ll lead to a race to the bottom.
That single miracle is going to be that trial by fire. The true test of grit and founder obsession. That trial, whenever it is, predictable or not, determines if your product will stay a niche idea (and possible fizzle into obscurity) or a business that will change the world. For you and your business, that miracle could have been catalyzed by the pandemic, the GME short squeeze, ’08 recession (if you’re an older business), the inauguration, or something yet to come. The question is: How do you respond in the face of adversity?
Why is that miracle important?
Tim Ferriss once said, “Your superpower is very often right next to your wound, like your biggest wound. […] They’re often two sides of the same coin.” If you can survive and conquer that trial, the miracle – your superpower – becomes one of your strongest moats. The lessons you learned, the trust you (re)built, and the legacy you begin to construct. Those lessons – those earned secrets – while not impervious, will ideally be incredibly hard to obtain for others without walking through fire. A metamorphic journey from a vulnerable caterpillar to a beautiful monarch. What Joseph Campbell calls the “hero’s journey“.
And in the longer time horizon, that you are no longer just the protagonist of that miracle, but that you are also a producer of miracles for others. You are then capable of minting miracles systematically. Be it your customers, your team members, and your investors.
Why #unfiltered?
You might be wondering why I tagged this essay as #unfiltered. Frankly, it’s a new unrefined hypothesis that I’ve been playing around with. While it’s been inspired by others, I believe there’s more nuance I still need to uncover as well. That I’ll need to test a bit more to see if it can be a more robust thesis.
Going forward, I will continue to ask founders questions like:
What is the origin story of this idea?
If you were to fail in 18 months, what would be the most likely reason why?
Conversely, if you were to wildly succeed in that same time frame, what would be the biggest contributor?
Why are you a different person today than when you started this business? Who/what catalyzed this/these change(s)?
Examples of who: customers, team, partners, investors
Examples of what: black swan events, market trends, socio-economic habits, new technologies, an inflection point in your life when you faced impossible odds, failures, etc.
But I’ll be particularly looking for the earned secret among a miracle of adversity. Simply put, I’m looking to hear this song play in the background. The beginning of a mythical legend in the making.
#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!
Over the years, the silver screen sure has mythologized the dropout founder – from Steve Jobs to Bill Gates to Mark Zuckerberg. While students who choose to dropout will continue to wow the world, and I believe it (otherwise, I wouldn’t be working with Danielle and Mike at 1517 Fund, if I didn’t), reality isn’t nearly as black and white. A Quora user requested my answer to this question recently. Why do business schools not make world class entrepreneurs? It presumed that great academic institutions, mainly B-schools, were no longer capable of minting world-class founders. Admittedly, it’s neither the first, nor will it be the last time I see or hear of it.
The MBA grads
I met a Fortune 100 executive last year who said that it was because of her Wharton MBA, that she catapulted her career in artificial intelligence and machine learning. Specifically, it was because of the research she did with her professor, Adam Grant, that led to opportunities and introductions down the road. On the same token, David Rogier of MasterClass met his first investor at the Stanford GSB. In fact, it was his business professor who wrote that first check, just under $500K.
Business schools are amazing institutions of learning, but admittedly most people go for the network and the brand. On the same note, I would never go as far as to say that business schools don’t mint world-class entrepreneurs. If we’re going by pure valuation, there’s a study that found a quarter of 2019’s top 50 highest valued startups had MBAs as founders.
And here are a few more founder names among many, not even including some of the most recognizable CEO names, like Satya Nadella (Microsoft), Tim Cook (Apple) and more.
Tony Xu and Evan Moore of Doordash
Michael Bloomberg of Bloomberg
Steve Hafner of Kayak
Aneel Bhusri and Dave Duffield of Workday
Jeremy Stoppelman of Yelp
Mark Pincus of Zynga
Having grit and having a business degree don’t have to be mutually exclusive. I work with founders who come from all manners of educational backgrounds: high school dropouts, college dropouts, BA/BSs, MBAs, PhDs, MDs, JDs, home schooled, and self-taught. At the end of the day, it doesn’t matter what kind of education someone has. What matters is what they do with the education.
What an Ivy League dean once told me
Back when I toured the US to decide which school to SIR (statement of intent to register) to, I met the dean of an Ivy League school. I thought he was going to spend our 20 minutes trying to convince me to come to his school. But he didn’t. Instead he said, “David, it doesn’t matter which school you choose to go to. While I would be honored to have you attend ours, what matters is what you do while you’re in school. You could choose to just take classes here or you could go to a CC, but choose to be a member of 5 clubs, 3 of which you take leadership positions in. And if I were to look at you in four years, I’d be prouder of the latter person you chose to become.”
Capping the risks you could take
When I graduated from Berkeley, I also came out with a certificate in entrepreneurship and technology. While I still believe to this day that no class can really teach one to be entrepreneurial, I learned quite a bit of the institutionalization around entrepreneurship – what exists in the ecosystem, some of the risks involved and how to hedge those bets. Yet, my greatest lessons on entrepreneurship didn’t came from a textbook. But rather, the risks I took outside the classroom. Because each time I made one, I internalized it.
To do great things, you have to first dream big and act on those big dreams. By definition, big dreams entail high degrees of risk. High risk, high reward. And with risk, you’ll make mistakes. So one of the rules I live by is that I will force myself to make mistakes – many mistakes – more than I can count. But my goal is to make each mistake at most once. Jeff Bezos once said, “If you can’t tolerate critics, don’t do anything new or interesting.”
Equally so, there’s a joke that Andy Rachleff, founder of Wealthfront and Benchmark, shares with the class he teaches at the Stanford GSB. While it pertains to VCs, I find it analogous to founders and mistakes, “What do you call a venture capitalist who’s never lost money on an investment?”
“Unemployed.”
But, what institutionalized academia does help you with is provide you a platform to make mistakes. Without the downside. Capped downsides, but it’s up to you, the student, to realize what could be the uncapped upside. Last month I chatted with a VC, who works at a top 10 firm. Our conversation eventually spiraled into her MBA at the Stanford GSB. There she took on projects that put her on the streets talking and building products for potential customers. Her professors taught her the hustle, but it was up to her to apply her learnings. While she chose the VC path after, her experience led her to become a trusted advisor to founders while she was still in school.
In closing
Similarly, world-class entrepreneurs aren’t decided by which school they go to, or lack thereof, but how and why they choose to spend the days, weeks, and years of the short time they have on Earth. And where they practice their entrepreneurial traits.
I would be pretentious to say that you should get an MBA if you want to be founder. Or that you should dropout if you want to be one. If we’re to look at the cards on the table, MBAs are expensive. A $200K investment. Almost half of what might be your pre-seed round. But I can’t tell you if it’s a great investment or not, nor should I. For an MBA, or for that matter, any higher education. I pose the two extremes – MBA (or a PhD too) and a dropout – as I presume most of our calculi’ fall somewhere in-between. Instead, I can merely pair with you with the variables and possible parameters that may be helpful towards your decision. So, I’ll pose a question: Are there rewards you seek in the process rather than just in the outcome (of an MBA/higher education)?
In other words, are there skills, relationships, gratitude, entertainment, and/or peace of mind you build in the journey that transcend the outcome of your decision on the future of your education?
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