This past Wednesday, I was having lunch with an artist-turned-VC. And as you might imagine, we had to cover every topic at the intersection of art and startup investing. But of all the ground we covered, one stood out — content creation.
She’s on the Gram, LinkedIn, and everything in between. (Although surprisingly not on Twitter.) But to help her focus, she uninstalls those apps on her phone. Otherwise, she says she’ll end up “doomscrolling.” I get it. In fact, many of my friends and colleagues have shared similar things as well. But…
I’m weird. At least among my friend group, I’m really weird. I’m terrible at social media. I’m an 80-year old stuck in a 27-year old body. At least on the social media front. I find it so hard to keep my attention on social. In fact, I schedule ten minutes three times a week to hold myself accountable to be on LinkedIn and Twitter.
So, when it came to sharing my thoughts and learnings publicly, it was a pretty easy decision. Of course, I eventually came to self-rationalize it as the ability to own my own piece of virtual real estate, but there are three more reasons I chose blogging rather than tweeting or social posting.
1. I write to think
I’ve written about this before so I won’t elaborate in length on my own rationale here, but share a few examples of others also holding it in high regard.
There’s only so much you can flush out in just 280 characters, or over any short post. And while some of my thoughts fully flushed out may only be that long or less, not having that restriction gives me peace of mind to not hold back.
One of my favorite George Orwell lines happens to be: “If people cannot write well, they cannot think well. And if they cannot think well, others will do their thinking for them.”
On that same wavelength on writing, Jeff Bezos makes Amazon execs write six-page memos. In most companies, team members often resort to PowerPoint presentations. Take anywhere between five and ten slides. Maybe less, maybe more. It’s much less thought out than a six-page dissertation. As Bezos says, “The reason writing a ‘good’ four page memo is harder than ‘writing’ a 20-page PowerPoint is because the narrative structure of a good memo forces better thought and better understanding of what’s more important than what.”
Equally so, it’s the same reason the best investors write memos for their investment decisions. My favorite public ones are Bessemer’s, which encapsulates much of their thinking at the time in amber. Turner Novak also turned his ability to write great memos to eventually raising his fund, Banana Capital. And the great Brian Rumao writes memos not just pre-investment, but also in his post-mortems where he gathers his learnings.
While I won’t go as far as to comparing myself to the afore-mentioned, I do find great pleasure and great learning from putting words on paper.
2. Longer feedback loop
My writing is more often a form of self-expression, self-curiosity, and self-discovery. So, unlike a product manager or founder who’s relentlessly testing and iterating on feedback, I enjoy longer feedback loops. I may start another content engine at some point that is for a particular audience, focused on feedback and iteration. But this humble piece of virtual estate will stay me. With no algorithm conditioning my attention span and yearn for external validation. That’s not to say I won’t ever (or have not ever) written things that you my awesome readers want, but it is only at the intersection of what you want and the what I enjoy writing about and asking others about that mint content here.
I also spend a lot of time thinking about audience capture, a term Gurwinder brought to my attention in an essay he wrote about Nikocado Avocado, which I also touched on in an essay I wrote near the end of last year.
I’m reminded by something Gurwinderwrote a few months ago about the perils of audience capture. In it, he shares the story of Nikocado Avocado, who lost himself to his audience, in a section of that essay he calls: The Man Who Ate Himself. He also shares one line that I find quite profound:
“We often talk of ‘captive audiences,’ regarding the performer as hypnotizing their viewers. But just as often, it’s the viewers hypnotizing the performer. This disease, of which Perry is but one victim of many, is known as audience capture, and it’s essential to understanding influencers in particular and the online ecosystem in general.”
3. The impermanence of social media
Most things on social media are ephemeral in nature. It’s designed to capture the moment, but not chronicle the moments. On Twitter, you can only pin one tweet. On Instagram, you can pin three. And on LinkedIn, only three are visible on the featured carousel, and include, five max before it takes you down another layer of friction to discover more.
There’s a level of impermanence which makes thoughts feel whimsical rather than evergreen. To use a phrase I recently heard Tim Ferriss use, the “durability of the signal seems to wane so quickly.” And that made my thoughts feel cheap.
That’s not to say every post I write has their weight in gold, but the searchability and the evergreen nature of my favorite blogposts (saved in my “About” tab) are the reasons I keep most of my thoughts here.
#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 Earth has once again gone through another orbit around the only star within four light years from us.
In the past version of David, I’ve published many blogposts. Yet one of the most continual topics that owns real estate in my mind is the idea of the 99 unsolicited, but more importantly, non-googleable (figuratively speaking) pieces of advice. I’ve already published two blogposts on the respective topics of entrepreneurship and VC. And am now compiling more and an additional set of life hacks. I imagine, at some point, I will for other areas of my life I want to spend mind space on. Asking questions. Hosting interviews. Events. LP stuff. Just to name a few.
In other words, I am on a constant search for tactical pieces of insight in the corners of both the internet and safely kept (often unwittingly) in the grey matter in 7.8 billion locations. Or simpler, I want to know what others know.
I was listening to a podcast featuring James Clear earlier this year. And in it, he said something I completely agree with. “Almost every idea you have is downstream from what you consume. When you choose who you follow on Twitter, you’re choosing your future thoughts.”
In an age that offers us a wealth of information and a million topics, posts, comments, videos, and algorithms that will distract us, it becomes ever more prescient to be a great curator. It doesn’t even have to be for others. At the very minimum, for yourself.
The amount of time I’ve scrolled through metaphoric cat videos on YouTube is appalling. And I realize that whenever I do, I face a dry spell of ideas. Luckily only briefly.
As of now, the world’s top social media platforms’ algorithms work against us. It surfaces us content we are likely to enjoy. Content that is high likely to reinforce our confirmation bias, as well as availability bias of the world. And the biggest problem with that is we are fed cousins of the same information rather than new, and possibly dissenting information that would challenge our beliefs. After all, these apps’ goal is to keep us on the platform. Not to close the app and do something meaningful with our lives. I’m excited for the day we get to build our own algorithms for consumption. But for now, it has to be more manual.
James Clear also goes on to say in the same interview when Tim Ferriss asked how he chooses which books to read. “First thing is you got to be willing to quit books fast. If you have baggage around finishing books, then you’re just going to be stuck and you won’t move on quickly enough.”
I’m guilty of the counterfactual. I’ve long prided myself on seeing things through. In fact, I still do. But at least on the consumption part, I’m slowing down my rate of learning. This year, I’m going to start measuring the number of books, articles, and podcasts I fail to complete, as well as the number of long form content media (i.e. books, movies, articles, podcasts, etc.) that have inspired an idea or an output. The goal is to optimize for learning and insight rather than completion.
Since this is the first year I’m measuring it, I won’t be able to measure the delta. But I’ll leave this encased in amber for David v29.0 and future iterations.
Doing things that are unteachable
My sixth grade teacher once told me, “David, you should be proud [she] copied you. That means you have something worth copying.”
I, like many others, spent the first 22 years of my life copying and learning from someone else’s or multiple people’s playbook. And often still do. The four years after I worked on being different. From the words of someone I look up to, “Be interesting and interested.” Where I put more effort into being interesting — doing interesting things, having interesting perspectives, asking interesting questions. I worked to create things worth copying. And when I started this blog, I followed that same ethos. I did and will continue to do my best to share my findings and takeaways. So that others won’t have to fall through the same potholes as I did.
At least, that was my belief until December 8th last year.
I hosted an event. An event I’ve never been more excited to host. An event where I was intentional about as many details as I could. And a byproduct of being in the flow state at least twice a week. While I’ll likely spend another blogpost taking a deeper dive on this topic, it occurred to me that events, just like any other medium of consumption — movies, books, podcasts, shows, and so on — should be stories. And every story has a beginning, a middle, and an end. But more importantly, every great story has:
An inciting incident — something that compels the protagonist to leave their current timeline to embark on something spectacular
A main plot (with sometimes multiple side plots)
Character development — the protagonist, as well as other characters, grow over the arc of the story
An ending where the reader (viewer or listener) can imagine no other (tipping my hat to Robert McKee)
And to use the reader (et al’s) time in a way that is not wasted (tipping my hat to Kurt Vonnegut)
To my joy, it was as great if not greater than expected. The feedback was phenomenal. In my excitement and post-event high, I shared with many friends, colleagues, and family about how I thought about the event.
And to my dismay, while most were happy for me, a friend told me:
“You’re built different. I could never do what you do.”
In subsequent days, two other friends told me the same.
And it reminded me of something John Fiorentino once said. “The things that are going to be valuable are the things you can’t teach or copy.” While I was initially dismissive of this corollary, I now realize there might be some truth to it.
So, how does that change the stories I’ll share here or anywhere? In the past few years, every time I do something new, there ‘s usually a voice in the back of my head that asks me, “How would you catalog this adventure on your blog? What would be the title of the blogpost? What kind of title works best for SEO?”
Going forward, I’m going to ask that voice to hush. Not to say I won’t share my learnings, but I’ll preface now that my future writings may not be written for search engine optimization. It’ll be raw. And from title to body, a truer expression of what I want to share.
So where do I go from here?
I’ve hedged to be fair my entire professional career. I’ve done tons, which on paper, seems like a lot, but I’ve never fully spent time immersing myself in only one thing. And nothing but one thing. I’m context switching all the time, which probably means I live 20-30% less of a day than a focused person.
So I’m going to have to take more risks. ‘Cause I’m starting to believe that in order to do something that cannot be copied, I’m gonna need to focus more.
Stay up to date with the weekly cup of cognitive adventures inside venture capital and startups, as well as cataloging the history of tomorrow through the bookmarks of yesterday!
Any views expressed on this blog are mine and mine alone. They are not a representation of values held by On Deck, DECODE, or any other entity I am or have been associated with. They are for informational and entertainment purposes only. None of this is legal, investment, business, or tax advice. Please do your own diligence before investing in startups and consult your own adviser before making any investments.
“‘Mutation’ is simply the term for a version of a gene that fewer than 2 percent of the population has. […] Imagine enough letters to fill 13 complete sets of Encyclopaedia Britannica with a single-letter typo that changes the meaning of a crucial entry.” A fascinating line from David Epstein. One that makes you pause and think. I apologize that this is where my mind wanders to every time I read something that stops me cold in my tracks. The world of startups, at least in fundraising, is no different.
Let me elaborate.
While this is rather anecdotal, the average VC I know takes 10 or less first meetings in any given week. As an average of 500 emails land in their inbox every week, that’s a 2% chance of having your cold message land you a meeting. And that’s not even counting the heavy bias towards warm intros. In other words, to get noticed, you have to stray from the norm. A variant. A mutation.
The good news about being a mutated monkey with two left ears and an overbite hosting two dozen fangs is that unlike in nature, you can genetically modify and give birth to a mutated product of your choosing. While I probably could’ve used more floral language, I realize I’m also not writing a rom com, but a documentary capturing the cold realities of an investor’s virtual real estate. That has more eyes trying to peer into it than it has time, space, and most importantly, attention to open doors.
Your appearance on that stake of land is your debutante ball. The question is how will you grace the ballroom floor among a sea of people who have access to the same town tailors, dressmakers, and dance instructors as you do. A name. A subject line. And at most 50 characters to make a first impression.
The short answer is you don’t.
I also understand that in writing a piece on how to stand out in an investor’s inbox, I run the risk of sounding like every other Medium article who’s covered this topic before me. So, instead of sharing the five steps to get every investor to open your email, I’m going to share three examples, starting with some initial frameworks of how and some of my favorite thought leaders think about narratives.
As a compass for the below, I’ll share more about:
For the purpose of this essay, I’ll focus on cold emails, rather than warm intros. But many of the below lessons are transferrable.
The investor product
Blume’s Sajith Pai recently wrote a great piece detailing on what he calls the investor product. And how that is different from the content product — what customers see and hear — and the internal comms product — what your team members see and hear. Even in my own experience, I see founders often conflate at least two. They bucket it into the internal story… and the external story — bundling, ineffectively, the investor and content product.
In short, the investor product is the narrative that you tell your investors. A permutation of your personality and your vector in the market in a sequence you think investors find most compelling. That narrative, while not mutually exclusive, is different from the story you tell your customers. For customers, you are the Yoda to their Luke Skywalker. For investors, you’re the Anakin to the Jedi Order. The future.
Not all pitches are created equal
Just like expository writing differs from persuasive writing which differs from narrative writing, there are different flavors of fundraising pitches as well. Kevin Kwokboils it down to three.
Narrative pitches: What could be. What does the future look like?
Inflection pitches: New unveiled secrets. In Kevin’s words, for investors, “now is the ideal risk-adjusted time to invest.” Why is the present so radically different? Why is the second derivative zero?
Traction pitches: Results and metrics. How does the past paint you in glorious light? Admittedly, people rarely index on the past. So, traction pitches are on decline. It’s akin to, if someone were to ask, “What is your greatest accomplishment?” You say, “It has yet to happen.”
The truth is most early-stage founder pitches are narrative pitches, focused on team and vision. But the most compelling ones for VCs are inflection ones. One of my favorite investor frameworks, put into words by the an investor in the On Deck Angels community, is:
Do I believe this founder can 10x their KPIs within the funding window?
The funding window is defined as usually 12 to 18 months after the round closes. And usually the interim time before a venture-scale company goes out to raise another round. In order to 10x during the next 12 to 18 months, you have to be on either a rising market tide that raises all boats, or more importantly, the beginnings of the hockey stick curve in your product journey. Do you have evidence that your customers just love your product? For instance, for marketplaces, that could be early organic signs as demand converts to supply. In other cases, it could be the engagement rate post-reaching the activation milestone.
What channel does the pitch land in
While the message — the narrative — is important, the channel in which the pitch is received is just as, if not more important. As Reid Hoffmanonce wrote, “the cold and unromantic fact is that a good product with great distribution will almost always beat a great product with poor distribution.”
The truth is that email is a saturated channel.
While Figma’s Naira Hourdajian notes that this applies to any form of communications, not just politics, she put it best, “Essentially, when you’re working in politics, you have your earned channels, owned channels, and your paid channels.”
Owned — Anything you control on your own channels. Your website, blog, your own email, and in a way, your own social channels.
Paid — Anything you put out into the world using capital. For instance, ads.
Earned — Because others are not willing to give it to you and that it is their real estate, you have to earn it. Like press and in this case, others’ email inboxes.
On an adjacent point, the thing is most founders don’t spend enough time and effort on owned and earned channels when it comes to the content product. Both are extremely underleveraged. Many think, especially outside of the context of fundraising, and within go-to-market strategies, think paid is the only way to go. While powerful, it is the channel that carries the most weight post-product-market fit. Not pre-.
In the context of fundraising, I always tell founders I work with to always be fundraising, just like they should always be selling. There’s a saying that investors invest in lines, not dots. But the first time you pop up in someone’s inbox is, by definition, just a dot. Nothing more, nothing less. Rather, you should start your conversations with your future investors before you kickstart your fundraising. Ask for advice. Host events that you invite them to. Interview them on a podcast or a blogpost. Feature them in a TikTok reel. (Clearly, I spend the bulk of my time with consumer startups).
As you might have guessed, sometimes it has to be outside of the inbox. To get their attention, there are two ways you can pick your channel:
Target powerful channels in an innovative way,
Target powerful, but neglected channels,
And, target new and upcoming channels.
As such, I’ll share an example for each.
Powerful channel used in an innovative way: Email
In one of Tim Ferriss’ 5-Bullet Friday newsletters recently, I found out that Arnold Schwarzenegger handwrites all his emails.
Source: Tim Ferriss’ 5-Bullet Friday — Jan 13, 2023
It’s brilliant. Genius, I might say. I don’t know how much intentionality went into why Arnold does so, but here’s why I think it’s brilliant.
If you’re sending it to someone who owns a Gmail, you’ve just given yourself 100% more real estate (albeit ephemeral) in their inbox. If their inbox is set on Gmail’s default view. Additionally, via the attachment name, that’s 10-15 characters more of information you can share at just a glance. Or at the minimum, if they’re reading via the compact view, an extra moniker that most emails do not have. A paper clip. To a reader’s eyes, it draws the same amount of attention as a blue check mark on Twitter or Instagram.
Once they click open the email, instead of plain text, your reader, your investor, sees font that stands out from all the other email text. A textual mutation that leads to curiosity. Something that begs to be read.
Powerful, but neglected channel: Physical mail
When I started in venture, I didn’t have a network, but I knew I needed one. Particularly, with other investors. After all, I didn’t know smack. I quickly realized that email and LinkedIn were completely saturated. One investor I reached out to later told me that he doesn’t check his LinkedIn at all, since he got 200 connection requests a day. So, it begged the question: Where must investors spend time but aren’t oversaturated with information?
Well, the thing is they’re human. So I walked through every step of what a day in the life of an average human being would go through, then guesstimated if there were any similarities with an investor’s schedule. Meal time, time in the bathroom, when they were driving or in an Uber (but I don’t run a podcast they’d listen to). And, like every other human being, they check their physical mail. Or someone close to them, checks them.
I knew they had to check their mail for their bills (a surprising number of investors haven’t gone paperless). But it couldn’t seem sales-y because they or their spouse or assistant would immediately throw it out. That’s when I decided I would write handwritten letters to their offices.
The EA is the one who usually sorts through the stack, and is someone who also doesn’t get the attention he/she deserves. Nevertheless, I believed:
Handwritten letters are going to stand out among a sea of Arial and Times New Roman font.
The envelope had to be in a non-white color to stand out against the other white envelopes. So, I went to Michael’s to buy a bunch of blue and green envelopes. Truth be told, I thought red was too much for me, and often carried a negative connotation.
The EA or office manager has to deem it not spam or marketing, so including a name and return address is actually a huge bonus, AND a note that doesn’t seem market-y on the envelope (i.e. thank you and looking forward to catching up).
At the end of the letter, I’d write I’d love to drop by and meet up with them in the office. Then I’d show up at their office within the week, and say, “I’m here to see ‘Bob.'”
The EA would ask if I had an appointment, and I would say that he should’ve received a letter in earlier in the week that let him know I would be here. Then, the EA would go back and ask if ‘Bob’ was free. If not, I’d wait in the lobby until they were, without overstaying my welcome. If they weren’t in the office, I’d ask to “reschedule” and book a time with them via the EA. Which would then officially get me on their calendars.
New and upcoming channel: Instacart
In a blogpost I wrote in 2021, I recapped how Instacart got into YC:
Garry Tan and Apoorva Mehta have bothshared this story publicly. Apoorva, founder of Instacart, back in 2012, wanted to apply to Y Combinator. Unfortunately, he was applying two months late. So he reached out to all the YC alum he knew to get intros to the YC partners. He just needed one to be interested. But after every single one said no, Garry, then a partner at YC, wrote: “You could submit a late application, but it will be nearly impossible to get you in now.”
For Apoorva, that meant “it was possible.” He sent an application and a video in, but Garry responded with another “no” several days later. But instead of pushing with another email and another application, Apoorva decided to send Garry a 6-pack of beer delivered by Instacart. So that Garry could try out the product firsthand. 21st Amendment’s Back in Black, to be specific. In the end, without any precedent, Instacart was accepted. And the rest is history.
In the above case, Instacart in and of itself was the emerging platform of choice. The application portal and email here were both saturated and had failed to produce results. What I missed in the above story is that the 6-pack arrived cold, which meant that the product worked and could deliver in record time. A perfect example of a product demo, in a way the partners were least expecting it.
In closing
Siddhartha Mukherjeeonce wrote: “We seek constancy in heredity — and find its opposite: variation. Mutants are necessary to maintain the essence of ourselves.”
Variation — being different — is necessary for the survival of our species. That’s what evolution is. That said, what worked yesterday isn’t guaranteed to work tomorrow. ‘Cause that same mutation that enabled the survival of a species has become commonplace. The human race, just like any other species, replicates what works to ensure greater survival.
The same is true for great ideas. A great idea today — even the above three — will be table stakes at some point in the future. Thus, requiring the need for even newer, even more innovative ideas. Hell, if it’s not via my blog, it’ll come from somewhere else. With the rise of generative AI — ChatGPT, Midjourney, Dall-E, you name it, if you’re average, you’ll be replaced. If you don’t have a unique voice, you’ll be replaced. Some algorithm will do a better and faster job than you will. As soon as more people start using the afore-mentioned tactics, the above will no longer be original. As such, I don’t imagine the case studies will age well, but the frameworks will. That said, the only unsaturated market is the market of great. To be great, you must be atypical. You must go where no one has gone before.
For those interested in startup pitches that stand out, specifically how to think about compelling storytelling, I highly recommend two places that inspire much of my thinking on the topic:
Stay up to date with the weekly cup of cognitive adventures inside venture capital and startups, as well as cataloging the history of tomorrow through the bookmarks of yesterday!
Any views expressed on this blog are mine and mine alone. They are not a representation of values held by On Deck, DECODE, or any other entity I am or have been associated with. They are for informational and entertainment purposes only. None of this is legal, investment, business, or tax advice. Please do your own diligence before investing in startups and consult your own adviser before making any investments.
I am by no means the best equipped to talk about this topic, nor have I achieved any modicum of success that I can call my life’s work yet. But the beauty about being insatiably curious is that I’ve gotten to know some incredible individuals, like…
Multi-time New York Times best-selling author
Founder of a household corporate brand
Investors who have consistently returned their investors over 10 times their investment
Individuals who have achieved insane, superhuman feats (i.e. climbing Mt. Everest, Olympic medalist, etc.)
Creator of a popular TV show
Chefs will multiple Michelin stars
A mother who serves as the role model for her children
A war refugee turned serial venture-backed founder
A veteran with multiple Purple Hearts
Unfortunately, while this isn’t true for all world-class performers I’ve met — to borrow one of Tim Ferriss’ phrases, many continue to stay curious, studious, restless, and most of all, humble. For those who continue to stay humble, how do they do it? After all, they have every right down to their bone to exhibit a large ego. To be full of themselves. They’ve made it.
What powers their humility? A question I find fascinating and telling of character.
Admittedly, I wish I could’ve been less obtuse about how I asked the above question.
After a number of conversations over the years, there are four chief themes:
Their greatest achievement is still ahead of them. They know what is possible, and continuously seek the adrenaline of doing the impossible. As long as the impossible is ahead of them, they are fighting a war against antiquated, yet widely-adopted mindsets. And the thing with the impossible is that it’s impossible to do it alone.
They fear they are unable to outdo their last greatest achievement. That fear either slides into depression or a burning fire to prove themselves wrong. That fire continues to keep them on their feet, anxious of the day they disappoint others, but most of all, themselves.
They have friends and family they deeply trust. They value the opinion of their confidants to keep them grounded. Confidants who prevent the hype get to the individual’s head, without discounting his/her achievement.
They themselves meet with exceptional people who show them the world is bigger than their pond. Exceptional people who challenge what they themselves know and what they think they know, helping them realize the limitations of their own world.
Regardless of what stage of life we are at, I believe there are life lessons here for everyone else as well.
Your greatest achievement is ahead of you. Don’t spend too much time on the past, even if you are proud of it.
Find a support group who’ll be with you even when times are tough — when your faith in yourself falters.
And, hopefully that same support group of friends and family will keep you grounded, even when the world tells you, you are a god.
Meet with people who challenge you, who inspire you, and who motivate you to act.
Of all the above, I’d love to double-click that last lesson in particular. There are two kinds of lives that great people live:
A life to envy
Or a life to respect
A life to envy is a life you would love to live instead of your own. It is often easier and more privileged than your own. A life born with a silver spoon in their mouths already. And if not that, a life of fairly few struggles or of extreme luck uncorrelated with their ability to hustle. These individuals often live only briefly in the limelight and find it difficult to repeat the “success” they’ve had. For instance, winning the lottery or being born into a well-off family.
A life to respect is a life where the individual overcomes seemingly impossible odds. One built with sacrifice — blood, sweat, and tears. It wasn’t an easy one. But where they are today is a testament to the scar tissue they’ve built over the course of their life. There are chapters in these lives that could and would rip apart the average person. This life is a life best viewed in a cinematic theater, but not one most people would want to live themselves, even though the status quo may be something they desire for themselves. I often find the world’s best founders in this category. And these lives often stand the test of time.
Most of these people won’t forget the past they came from. They continue to have insatiable curiosity and a bias to action. As such, they continue to learn at an astonishing pace. They continue to inspire us and motivate us to be better. And even before they succeed, many of their peers who don’t join them for the perilous journey merely comment on how they’re “built different.”
These are the same people I love spending time with. And hoping that when I do “make” it, I won’t forget their wisdom.
#unfiltered is a series where I share my raw thoughts and unfiltered commentary about anything and everything. It’s not designed to go down smoothly like the best cup of cappuccino you’ve ever had (although here‘s where I found mine), more like the lonely coffee bean still struggling to find its identity (which also may one day find its way into a more thesis-driven blogpost). Who knows? The possibilities are endless.
Stay up to date with the weekly cup of cognitive adventures inside venture capital and startups, as well as cataloging the history of tomorrow through the bookmarks of yesterday!
Any views expressed on this blog are mine and mine alone. They are not a representation of values held by On Deck, DECODE, or any other entity I am or have been associated with. They are for informational and entertainment purposes only. None of this is legal, investment, business, or tax advice. Please do your own diligence before investing in startups and consult your own adviser before making any investments.
Recently, I stumbled across a captivating perspective on aphorisms via Tim Ferriss’ 5-Bullet Fridays. The Procrustean Bed. To be fair, before reading it on Tim’s newlsetter, I haven’t even heard of the concept. In one of his newsletters, he cites two incredible sources:
” ‘Something designed to produce conformity by unnatural or violent means. In Greek mythology, Procrustes was a robber who tied his victims to a bed, either stretching or cutting off their legs in order to make them fit it.’ (Source: Oxford Dictionary of English Idioms).
“Nassim Taleb has a related book of aphorisms titled The Bed of Procrustes. He explains the title thusly: ‘Every aphorism here is about a Procrustean bed of sorts—we humans, facing limits of knowledge, and things we do not observe, the unseen and the unknown, resolve tension by squeezing life and the world into crisp commoditized ideas, reductive categories, specific vocabularies, and prepackaged narratives, which, on the occasion, has explosive consequences.’ “
Down the investing rabbithole
There exist a number of aphorisms in the investing world. Chief of which reads “buy low, sell high.” Public market assets are quite liquid. Hypothetically, you can cash out whenever you want. Such liquidity has paved way for psychological inconsistencies to maximize gratification. In language with unnecessary jargon redacted, the option to sell is less motivated by rational thinking but more by fear of losing money – loss aversion. If you invest $100 into the public market, you can choose if you want to cash out at $95, $90, or $120 or $200. While there is a non-zero chance of you losing your entire principal, chances are you’ll liquidate your positions before that happens.
On the other hand, private market investments are illiquid. Upon investment, there is no liquid market in which you can sell immediately. At best, you have to wait 3-5 years before a rapidly marked-up investment creates opportunities for distributions in the secondary market. In other words, cash money while companies are still private. In the private markets, your principal either appreciates in multiples, rather than percentages, or bottoms out. Any in-betweens will neither make or break your investment strategy, and are often out of your immediate control. So in this case, illiquidity is a feature, not a bug.
The notion of exiting positions as a private market investor, therefore, gravitates towards a singularity – when you make a damn good investment. The only time you really have an option to choose whether you can sell or not, when otherwise, it becomes a tax write-off or a small exit outside of your immediate control.
When should you sell?
Should you ever sell?
And if you sell, how much should you sell?
To answer all the above questions…
With the help of Shawn and Ratan, I wrote a blogpost on how to think about exiting positions at the beginning of this year. A topic of which I am still very much a rookie at, which may be quite apparent in this essay as well. Nevertheless I’m going to try to elaborate more on the notion of selling positions as an early-stage investor.
In a memo earlier this year, Howard Marks wrote that there are two main reasons people choose to sell: “because they’re up and because they’re down.”
When “they’re down”
Let’s start with the latter. When “they’re down.” Like I mentioned before, there are often very few options to sell when things are down. While I’m not proud that these investors exist in the early-stage private markets, I’ve seen and heard of some investors who try to make a last ditch effort to regain some of their principal when the startup goes south. Selling off IP. As well as assets. Or forcing the founders to make a modest exit, so that the investors cap their downside. Maybe at best, this returns them 2x on their capital (rarely the case).
But let’s say that’s the “best” case scenario. And let’s say it’s a $25M Fund I, writing $250K checks. A 2x net return means they got back $750K. $750K is far from returning the $25M fund. Not even close to doing so. You need over 30 of those “exits” to just break even for your fund. So, if you’re an investor penny pinching here, you’re in the wrong game AND you’re going to lose out on the relationships with the founding team.
Why the wrong game?
Venture is a hit-driven business. It’s not about your batting average but about the magnitude of the home runs you hit. We bat for 100x returns, which also increases the probability of misses, determined by ability to return the fund or not. If you’re optimizing for local maximums, you’d probably do better as a public market investor.
And why do relationships matter?
One, the startup world is a smaller world than you think. People gossip.
Two, statistically, first swings at bat rarely work out. In research done by Cowboy Ventures, they found 80% of unicorns had at least one co-founder with previous founding experience. Paris Innovation Review also found that “86% started their project with a partner, after having created other companies.” Two of many otherstudies. So, even though this venture didn’t achieve financial success for an investor, the next might. Or the one after that. Assuming you bet on the right people, it’ll just take a couple iterations before timing, market, and product also match up. If you leave on bad terms on this deal, you won’t be able to get in when things do work out.
Three, what makes early-stage investing incredible is the relationships you build along the way. The ability to learn and grow with really smart people.
When “they’re up”
The question of if to sell often leads to controversial debate. I know of some investors who never sell any of their stock. And that if they sell, to them, it is a measure of their lack of faith in a founder. And they would never want to feel that they’re betting against the founders. That’s okay if you’re an angel. But if you’re a VC, you have a fiduciary responsibility to your investors, which means you’ll eventually have to sell.
The question of when to sell is often answered in broad strokes with laws around QSBS, which states that if you hold a qualified small business stock for longer than five years, you’re not subject to capital gains taxes in the US. But should you sell in the 6th year or 10th year? And under what market conditions? Do you sell in a boom market or on the precipice of a bust market? For a company you believe in the long-term potential, regardless of short-term fluctuations, I’m a big fan of what Bill Miller said in his Q3 2021 Market Letter. “We believe time, not timing, is the key to building wealth in the [market].”
But when things are going really, really, really well, it’s okay to take money off the table, even ahead of the end of the fund’s 10-year lifespan. In fact, Union Square Ventures generally sells 15-30% of their position in their top portfolio companies to distribute back to their LPs. Fred Wilson‘s personal framework lies around “[selling] one third of the position immediately, put one third away for a long term hold, and actively manage the other third.”
To most, including myself, the goalposts for selling how much seem arbitrary. USV sold 30% of their position in Twitter to return twice the entire fund. Menlo Ventures sold almost half of their stake in Uber when Softbank offered to buy. Whereas, Benchmark sold 15% of its Uber shares. I also have really smart friends who liquidate 50% of their stake in a token if a single cryptocurrency reaches double digit percentages of their net worth.
It’s all about the opportunity cost
In a game where arbitrage matters, and the “why” matter more than the “what”, it was love at first sight when Howard Marks shared his mental model on selling. He boils it down to the simple economic concept of opportunity cost:
“If your investment thesis seems less valid than it did previously and/or the probability that it will prove accurate has declined, selling some or all of the holding is probably appropriate.
“Likewise, if another investment comes along that appears to have more promise – to offer a superior risk-adjusted prospective return – it’s reasonable to reduce or eliminate existing holdings to make room for it.”
In sum, the option to sell is not an isolated decision, but rather one which considers the other investment opportunities you have available to you. For a number of VCs, this breaks into the calculus of recycling carry and what to use early distributions to invest in next. If you’re a VC with consistent AND high-quality deal flow, you’d probably want to reinvest. If you’re a VC without either of the two (i.e. only consistency or quality) or an emerging angel, your goal is to get both. In having both, you then have access to relative selection.
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Any views expressed on this blog are mine and mine alone. They are not a representation of values held by On Deck, DECODE, or any other entity I am or have been associated with. They are for informational and entertainment purposes only. None of this is legal or investment advice. Please do your own diligence before investing in startups and consult your own adviser before making any investments.
What is play to you but work to everyone else? Or said differently, what do you love doing that many others would hate or get bored of quickly?
This isn’t an original self-query. I want to say I heard it years ago on one of Tim Ferriss’ episodes, but the exact one escapes me. Yet, recently, my friends and colleagues remind me of this more and more. In the ultimate shortage of labor, more than ever before, people are rethinking what career means to them and what a meaningful career means. I’ve had friends become full-time live streamers, NFT creators, inventors, fiction novelists, artisans… you name it, and I bet you someone that I know – hell someone you know – has dabbled or jumped head-first into it. It truly is the era of the Great Resignation.
Now this question isn’t a call to arms to leave whatever you’re doing. Rather a direction of clarity that may help you live a more enriching life. Something to pursue in your down time. Until you can find a way to get paid to do so – unless you happen to have 20-30 years of runway from previous riches. The same is true if you’re an aspiring founder. Work on your project part-time, until you are ready to take it full-time either with investment capital or revenue.
For me, the answer to the above question is:
Writing (to think)
Meeting, and more specifically, learning from passionately curious and curiously passionate people (what can I say, I’m a glutton for inspiration)
Becoming a world-class questioner (you’ve probably guessed this one from the DGQ series)
Collecting quotes and phrasings that resonate (a few of which are repeat offenders on my blog)
Helping people realize their dreams (something that was much easier when I only had 20 friends, but much harder when I’m adding zeros to the right)
Many of the above have become synonymous with my job description over the years. Did I predict I would fall into venture capital? No. Frankly, it was a result of serendipity and staying open-minded to suggestions from people I really respect.
While this may come off as virtue signaling, to me, I’m willing to, did lose, and continue to lose sleep over each and every one of the above activities. And if I know anything about myself, my goalposts are likely to change over time. Not drastically, but fine-tuned over time.
The DGQ series is a series dedicated to my process of question discovery and execution. When curiosity is the why, DGQ is the how. It’s an inside scoop of what goes on in my noggin’. My hope is that it offers some illumination to you, my readers, so you can tackle the world and build relationships with my best tools at your disposal. It also happens to stand for damn good questions, or dumb and garbled questions. I’ll let you decide which it falls under.
Subscribe to more of my shenaniganery. Warning: Not all of it will be worth the subscription. But hey, it’s free. But even if you don’t, you can always come back at your own pace.
Years ago, I remember reading somewhere, “Writer’s block is not that you don’t have any ideas. It’s when you don’t have ‘good enough’ ideas.” In my opinion, one of the greatest fatalities of the 2020s is not that people lack ideas. But people have a poor way of capturing ideas when ideas do come to them.
And in the theme of ideating in the busy world we live in today, I wrote a short thread earlier this week on the seven ways I capture ideas.
I carry a physical journal almost everywhere I go. Personally opt for a nice, weighty journal that I can’t wait to write in (none of that spiral bound, thin page notebooks, but that’s personal preference). My favorite brands: Leuchtturm1917/ Moleskine Page density: >150 g/m2
While I’m at it, a good pen. I prefer felt tip or fountain pen. Psychologists do say you tend to remember thoughts more if you physically write them out, over typing them out. For felt tip: Staedtler fineliners Fountain pen: LAMY
Reserve a full page for every idea. Even if your idea is only one sentence, give it space so that in the future you can come back to it and flush it out. As the wise Ron Swanson once said, “Never half-ass two things. Whole-ass one thing.”
Allocate at least 10 minutes to generate ideas. Even if you can’t think of anything for 10 minutes, sit through the whole 10. A few months ago, amidst a catch-up, a founder friend of mine – for lack of better words, a serial builder, having created more apps that I can count – shared with another friend and I something incredibly insightful about finding inspiration. “Not enough people give themselves bored time. To produce ideas, you have to give yourself time to be bored.” These days, I try to allocate 30 minutes of bored time.
I have a whiteboard in my shower. Yes, I take shower thoughts seriously. In fact, this blogpost originated from a shower whiteboarding session earlier this week. I’m not really picky on brand here, since it’s just to get thoughts on a board as quickly as I can, but get rain-proof markers.
Handwritten notes are notoriously hard to track. So, I have a 3-step process for this.
I have a table of contents at the back of every notebook. Usually reserve 4 pages for that. In there, I write down, page #, title of each journal entry, and key/most thought-provoking content.
By the time I finish each journal, I revisit the now-completed table of contents to highlight/circle what resonates with me the most from that table.
A few months later or 1-2 journals later, I revisit the same table of contents, browse through what I highlighted/circled, and for those that STILL resonate, I port over to my Notion, which becomes more or less my evergreen knowledge/idea hub.
When I’m completely lost or need inspiration, I find that the best way to generate ideas is to ask great questions. For questions on people and passions, I’m a big fan of Tim Ferriss and Sean Evans. For startup or VC questions, I love Harry Stebbings and Samir Kaji.
As a bonus eighth tip which I didn’t include in the Twitter thread, if you are still stuck, I find the question “What is the most important question I should be asking myself today?” quite useful.
Some examples of things I write in my idea journal:
Startup ideas
New things I learned in the venture capital space
Blogpost ideas
Introspective thoughts
Phrases and vernacular that other people say or write that I really like
Great questions to ask myself or others
Recipes I come up with
Dreams
Riddles or puzzles
Short stories
Concept art
In sum, anything is fair game. The more I allow my mind to expand without constraints, the more I’m able to draw parallels between seemingly disparate data points and create new meaning. At least for myself.
In closing
I passed by another quote over the years, and the attribution escapes me. “If you have don’t have any ideas, read more. If you have ideas, write more.” I’d extend it even further by saying, when you have a deficit of inspiration, consume. Read and listen more. There is a plethora of content out there today. And they are all more accessible than ever – from books to podcasts to articles to videos. When you have a surplus of inspiration, produce. Write and do more.
#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!
Last week, after a lovely conversation with a startup operator, he asked if there was anything he could help me with. I defaulted to my usual. As I’m working on being a better writer, I asked him if time permitted, could he give me some feedback on my writing. For the sake of this blogpost, let’s call him “Alex.”
While I expected just general feedback on my style of content delivery, Alex gave me a full audit of this blog. He told me I should focus, until I’ve built up an audience. He also said that I should find my top 20 blogposts, figure which category they fall under and narrow down by writing more of those. On the same token, he recommended I reference Hubspot’s “topic clusters.” Which is an amazing piece about how to nail SEO in 2021, if I say so myself. Incredibly prescient. And incredibly true.
He also recommended I use Medium or Substack over my antiquated design of a website. And forgo the header image. Which you might have noticed I haven’t (yet).
The thing is… he’s 100% right. I’ve done little right, in the sense of marketing and branding. In fact, in the Google search engines, I probably am a mess to categorize, which means I exist in no category. Even in my own words, focusing on everything means focusing on nothing. While at the time of writing this post, a good majority of my content is based in startups and venture capital. If I focused on better branding, I would have doubled down on fundraising, or marketing. Or social experiments. But I haven’t.
Truth be told, I’ve stunted my growth, or my brand’s growth, by intentionally choosing otherwise. In turn, there are only two questions I optimize for in this blog.
Will this make David from yesterday smarter?
Is this still fun?
I started this blog writing for an audience of one. For the person I was yesterday. And if I know the me from yesterday would love it, then I have at least one happy customer.
I don’t write this blog for profit. This blog is my de-stressor. It is my entertainer, yet also my coach. It is my confidant. And it is just fun. The process of learning and thinking through writing – refining my thoughts – gets me really excited. I don’t want to end up dragging my feet through mud. Funnily enough, despite being an extremely, and I stress the former word, small blogger, I’ve had the occasional brand reach out to sponsor content. As you might have guessed, I said “no” to everyone so far. Either I didn’t believe that the product would make the world a better place or that I just didn’t get their product. This is not to say I won’t ever take on sponsors, but I just want to be really excited about it.
I’ve also had a number of folks reach out wanting to guest post on this blog, to which I’ve also said “no” to everyone so far. Because (a) it makes me lazy and defeats the purpose of me writing to think, and (b) I haven’t learned anything from them yet.
And because I write from a motivation of “psychic gratification,” borrowing the phrasing Tim Ferriss used in his recent episode, my writing is “very me,” to borrow the phrasing of readers and friends who’ve talked to me face-to-face before. I feel I can be genuine. And I can be unapologetically curious. I can learn what I want when I want how I want. I love each topic I write about, at least in the moment my pen touches paper. It excites me. It inspires me. And it pulls me with a force I want more of.
As a product of me being me, every so often, a random essay sees a momentary breath of fame. On average, it happens every 7th or 8th blogpost. I have these random spikes of several hundred views within 24 hours every so often. And don’t get me wrong. I would be lying if I said that wasn’t gratifying as well. Other times, some essays are far more perennial and see anywhere between two and ten views a day – almost every day. There are the ones that never make it onto the stage. And live somewhere in a virtual public graveyard.
I’m publicly logging my thought process here as a bookmark for future reference. And so that my future self can’t go back in time and write off my thought processes now in a grand motion of revisionist’s history.
I also know that this won’t be the last time I revisit this topic. My future mental model might differ greatly from what it is now. As John Maynard Keynes, father of Keynesian economics, once said, “When the facts change, I change my mind.” But it might stay the same. Who knows?
#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!
There is an incredible wealth of people in this world who self-proclaim to have insights or secrets to unlocking insights. From parents to teachers to the wise soul who lives down the street. From coaches to gurus to your friendly YouTube ad. To mentors. To investors. While there are a handful who do have incredibly insightful anecdotes, their stories should serve as reference points rather than edicts of the future. Another tool in the toolkit. No advice is unconditionally right nor unconditionally wrong. All are circumstantial.
After all, a friend once told me: All advice is autobiographical.
The same is true for anything I’ve ever written. Including this blogpost in itself.
Over the past two weeks, as a first-time mentor, I’ve had the incredible fortune of working alongside and talking to some amazing founders at Techstars LA. At the same time, I was able to observe some incredible mentors at work. And in this short span of time so far, I’ve gotten to understand something very acutely. The dichotomy between mentors and investors. For the purpose of this blogpost, I’m going to focus on startup mentors, rather than other kinds of mentors (i.e. personal mentors). Although I imagine the two cohorts of mentors are quite synonymous.
While the two categories aren’t mutually exclusive, there are differences. A great mentor can be a great investor, and vice versa. But they start from two fundamentally different mindsets.
Investors/mentors
An investor tries to fit a startup in the mold they’ve prescribed. A mentor fits themselves into the mold a startup prescribes.
An investor thinks “Will this succeed?” A mentor thinks “Assuming this will succeed, how do we get there?”
An investor starts with “Why you?” A mentor starts with “Why not you?”
An investor evaluates how your past will help you get to your future. A mentor helps you in the present to get to your future.
An investor has a fiduciary responsibility to their investors (i.e. LPs). A mentor doesn’t. Or a mentor, at least, has a temporal responsibility to their significant other. Then again, everyone does to the people close to them.
An investor will be on your tail to hold you accountable because they’ve got skin in the game. A mentor might not.
You can’t fire your investor. You can theoretically “fire” your mentor. More likely, you’re going to switch between multiple mentors over the course of your founding journey.
An investor has a variable check size-to-helpfulness ratio. Who knows if this investor will be multiplicatively more helpful with intros, advice, operational know-how than the size of their check? A mentor has theoretically an infinite CS:H ratio. Check size, zero. Helpfulness, the sky’s the limit.
It’s also much harder to find a mentor than an investor, outside of startup communities, like On Deck and Indie Hackers, and acceleration and incubation programs, like Y Combinator and Techstars. Frankly, being a mentor is effectively doing free consultations over an extended period of time. And if you’re outside of these communities, the best way to bring on mentors is to bring them on as advisors with advisor equity. I would use Founder’s Institute’s FAST as a reference point. And Tim Ferriss‘ litmus test for bringing on advisors: If you could only ask 5-10 very specific questions to this person once every quarter, would they still be worth 0.5% of your company without a vesting schedule?
In closing
As I mentioned above, being a mentor and an investor isn’t mutually exclusive. The best investors are often incredible mentors. And some of the greatest mentors end up being investors into your startup as well. Having been in the venture world for a while, I’ve definitely seen all categories on this Venn diagram. Sometimes you need more of one than the other. Sometimes you need both. It’s a fluid cycle. And for the small minority of venture-scalable startups, it’s worth having both.
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I’ve alluded to my ability to say “No” in many previous blogposts, like this one. But as this concept has crawled around in my subconscious for as long as it did, I believe it now deserves a blogpost in its own right.
As a kid, I learned from my parents to say “No” to strangers. The “uncle” who’d say my dad told him to pick me up. Or the “auntie” who’d offer a lollipop to me and ask me where my parents were. To the point it became muscle memory to say “No” to gifts, as well as compliments, even from friends and family. Over time, that notion became more prevalent as it infected other parts of my life.
I learned to discriminate my time before I had a chance to fill in my calendar. Even worse, when I ever hesitated, it became a no-brainer to say no. And subsequently, I missed out on more opportunities I can count. “Whenever there is any doubt, there is no doubt.” It’s a line from De Niro’s character in the 1998 movie Ronin. In essence, if you ever hesitate, some part of your body is telling you “No” while other parts are telling you “Yes”. And there’s a good chance that that “No” is right. Or if you do say “Yes” and things go awry, the voice in the back of your head that said “No” will only exacerbate into full denial. And you may end up hating the reasons you said “Yes” to before.
But it wasn’t from that movie, when that line became immortalized in my mind. I heard it uttered by Tim Ferriss on one of his regular episodes. Or maybe it was from one of his books, like Tribe of Mentors. But I wouldn’t sweat the details.
The thing is, he’s completely right. Both De Niro’s character, Sam. And Tim. But I learned there’s a caveat. Earlier on in your life and career, it’s about taking in more experience since your 24-hour day has yet to fill up. You have to say “Yes” before you know how to say “No”. I overvalued on advice and undervalued experience. Both Sam and Tim were right. But they were right in their own lives, or rather they were right when I would one day have enough things to say “No” to. All advice is, after all, autobiographical.
100 minus your age
I don’t remember where, but I once heard this amazing heuristic for picking up new books. 100 pages minus your age. It equals the number of pages you should read before you decide whether to put down the book or not. The younger you are, the more pages you should read to understand if this book is worth your time or not. Why? Because you simply don’t have large enough of a sample size to recognize the patterns of good versus not-so-good literature. As you grow older, the fewer pages you need to read before you decide if the book is worth your time. Over time, you have a better grasp as to what quality looks like.
A similar notion seems to apply to your life. 100 points minus your age. That’s the margin of error you have when making decisions. The younger you are, the more prone you are to making wild mistakes. The older and more experienced you get, the better you can tell good from bad decisions.
In closing
I’m reminded of something Henry Ford once said. “Whether you think you can, or you think you can’t – you’re right.”
I lost out on many opportunities. The thing is no opportunity will ever be perfect. But in thinking each opportunity I take had to be perfect, I thought I couldn’t – shouldn’t – take it. But frankly, I just wouldn’t. I became a professional brat. There will always be something or somethings that just don’t make the opportunity click. But in saying “No”, you are saying “Yes” to the status quo. That’s something I have to remember.
As Eric Schmidt of Google fame once said, “Yes is how you get your first job, and your next job, and your spouse, and even your kids. Even if it’s a bit edgy, a bit out of your comfort zone, saying yes means that you will do something new, meet someone new, and make a difference. Yes lets you stand out in a crowd, be the optimist, see the glass full, be the one everyone comes to. Yes is what keeps us all young.”
#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!
