All posts by Mark Watkins

Bookship, Ruminations, Startups

The Art of the Fast Pitch

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No, not softball. Startup pitches.

Last night from midnight to 2am, I listened to eight passionate, innovative teams sharing their journey through the Purple Prize, an indigenous innovation competition in Hawaii where I am a mentor (BTW join us for the finals online!).  

Even though it was late, the passion of these innovators meant I never got the least bit sleepy! Purple uses the now-common fast pitch format common to many accelerators – 5 minutes to introduce your company to potential investors and stakeholders. The fast pitch is really an art form – a performance art form. As both a performer and a consumer of this art form, I wanted to share a few thoughts on how to give a great performance. It is a performance, by the way – be yourself, but the “big stage” version of yourself. Passionate and confident. And practice!

Longer than an “elevator pitch”, shorter than a real VC pitch, it’s tricky. In just a few minutes you must concisely explain what you’re doing, why you’re doing it, why you will be successful, and what you are asking for (and not much else in 4 minutes!).

The first thing is to remember your audience. Assume they know nothing (and about you, it’s true. They know nothing. Assume nothing. Start at the beginning). On a demo day they’re likely to hear 10 of these pitches, or more. They’ve never heard a word about your company before. Their phone will buzz. Their attention will wander. Your internet/zoom will get glitchy at the wrong time. People can only consume so much information in short time. Avoid “cognitive overload” – keep it simple. Less is more. Nuance is not your friend here.

Here’s a formula:

  • Start with a story
  • Use your story to introduce your product. Simply and explicitly. 
  • Explain how you make money. Simply and explicitly.
  • Explain how the world will be different when you are successful. Finish strong.
  • No more than 1-2 slides per minute. 5 minutes ~ 5-10 slides.

Your presentation should arc from the general down to the specific and back up to the general. Let’s unpack this a bit.

THE STORY

Your very first words need to bind people to you and your mission, and explain what you are up to. People remember stories. Please, read Mike Troiano’s https://entrepreneurship.mit.edu/how-to-tell-your-ventures-story. They won’t remember market positioning or value propositions or any of that other stuff. Tell them a story. They’re looking for a reason to like you. Give it to them. Get their attention with a story, an insight, an experience, a feeling. Don’t waste your first words on anything but your story (don’t make jokes about being last, or explain how nervous you are, or anything else).

I build Bookship, a social reading app. Here’s how I introduce myself and my product. My very first sentences, verbatim.

“Hi, I’m Mark. When my son was 16, I got him a copy of Dune for Christmas. Like most gift books, it sat on the shelf unread for a decade. A few years ago he told me he was going to read it (he’s grown now). I said, “I’ll read it with you”. What followed was a month of genuine engagement with my son. Priceless. I had a similar experience with my daughter shortly thereafter, (different book) and I said to myself, “I’m going to bottle this experience into an app so other people can get that same feeling”. And that’s how Bookship was born. 

Notice: almost nothing about the product or features – it’s about the feeling, the emotion, the experience. Even better, the story is actually true. If you don’t have a good true story, remember Rule 19.

As Simon Sinek says, Start with Why. Your “why” might be a story, or it might be some phenomena or metric that speaks to you. Last night I heard the spark of many interesting stories. But often these sparks were buried in the middle of the presentation. I want to share them (with permission) because the stories are powerful, and to use them to illustrate how to make the most of them – by starting with them.

Sheila at MAGHugs is building a system for teachers to share positive news about things students did with the student and their parents (“I see you. You are valued“). Halfway through her presentation, she showed a slide with metrics illustrating the psychological challenges students face, starting with drop-out rates and culminating with a gut-wrenching statistic that every day 8 students commit suicide. Now I’m paying attention – what can we do to change that awful statistic? I’d advocate a pitch narrative that goes something like this: “Hi, I’m Sheila, and I was an educator for N decades. I can tell you many of our students are in trouble. Did you know that every day ……  so, we’re building a system for positive feedback for every student through virtual hugs.“. That’s a narrative that grabs my attention and no matter what else she says, I’ll remember what she’s trying to do. 

Polu Energy is building an innovative new power generation system. After hearing about the extremely powerful scientific team behind the company, and the general approach to the business, around slide 5 I learn that when salt water and fresh water come together, they make electricity. WTF? Really?? I had no idea. I’d suggest that as the opening line. “Hi, I’m Tate. Did you know that when salt water and fresh water come together they make electricity? We found a way to harness that at industrial scale. We’re Polu Energy. Blue energy from water…“.  I immediately get the crazy insight that led to this company. I’ll remember that, and I want to hear more. 

Preston & Gabor at Box Farm Labs are building a home hydroponics appliance. A Keurig for plants. Three or four minutes in, I hear that they started with a NASA project to grow plants in space in an automated way for long space voyages. That’s crazy shit. Hit me between the eyes with that in your first sentence. Hi, We’re Preston & Gabor. We learned how to grow plants in space for NASA, and we want to bring that to your kitchen. OK, that sounds pretty cool. Tell me more! 

People remember stories. As Sinek says, “people don’t buy what you do, they buy why you do it“.  But don’t belabor it. You don’t need four slides of “why”. You don’t have time. One slide. Less is More. 

PRODUCT

Your Story should lead to your product. “Because of X, we built our product Y“.  Explain Y (your product) in two or three sentences. Simple enough a high schooler can understand it. If you sell Carbon Offsets to Hawaii Visitors so local farms can plant food trees, like Kanu Offsets does, tell me that, just that simply, and at the beginning, so I am ready for everything else you tell me. That’s a mission I can get behind.

People can only take in so much – don’t make them work for it. Remember cognitive overload. If you want to give more detail (and you should!), do so – but only after you’ve given me a one sentence summary of what your product does, that I can internalize.

BUSINESS

Explain how you intend to make money. Tell me like I was in high school – simple and straightforward. The fancy term for this is business model. It’s surprising to me how often I hear a pitch where it’s unclear who pays for the product. For example, consider products sold into an educational context – who pays for it? The student? the parent? the teacher? the principle? the school district? Don’t make me guess. If you aren’t sure yet, that’s ok – just say so. But in a short pitch, ambiguity is more your enemy than error. If you are vague, I’ll assume the worst. But if you are precise but wrong, well, no harm no foul. Every startup makes mistakes and learns. Better to present with conviction, while offering up the chance you may learn and change in the future.

CLOSE STRONG. 

The arc of your presentation is:

  • here’s why we’re doing what we’re doing.
  • Here’s what we do.
  • Here’s how the world will be different when we are successful.

You move from the mission to the product to the business to the vision. General to specific to general.

I’ve seen so many pitches (not last night though!), that end in a morass of details and business plans and profit margins and …. don’t do this. Close strong. Explain how the world will be different when you are successful. Leave me with a clear memory of who you are and what you stand for.

You will face some temptations when you build your pitch:

You will be tempted to tell me everything you know. Don’t. Make sure I get a clear understanding of what you do. The details can follow.

You will be tempted to cram everything onto the slides. Don’t. Complicated diagrams and paragraphs of text in 12pt font will never be understood. You might as well not show them. Big font, simple pictures, simple diagrams. There will be times later to deliver all that wonderful detail and learning you have done. Now’s not the time.

You will be tempted to glam things up – use large words and jargon to make your initiative sound sophisticated, even if it’s straightforward. Don’t. Simplicity is your friend here. Simple is good.

You will be tempted to use metaphors and generalities. Don’t. I love me a good metaphor, but in 4 minutes it’s too easy to be misunderstood, or not understood. Simple and explicit is the ticket. 

Close strong. Move me. 

Books, Career, Ruminations

George Washington and The Rules

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If you follow other things I’ve written, you know I’m a fan of Rules. Or rather, lists of Rules. My list of professional rules, somewhat inspired by Gibb’s Rules (from NCIS), my Leadership Rules from the Ancient Greeks. Fred Harvey, creator of one of the earliest travel companies and the first US restaurant chain, and his rules. Rules give us things to fall back on when it’s unclear how to proceed.

Recently I took a tour of Mount Vernon, George Washington’s home, and saw that he had his own rules, cribbed from 110 Rules of Civility & Decent Behavior in Company and Conversation, which is based on a set of rules composed by French Jesuits in 1595.

I was sufficiently intrigued by Washington’s history and the manner in which people respected him, that I realized I did not know enough about him. Washington was widely respected for that quality we refer to today as “gravitas“. As a result I am reading David McCullough’s 1776, which so far is good fun and highly informative. (I’m running a public reading on my social reading app Bookship, tap the link below to join me!)

1776

Bookship is a social reading app that lets people share their reading experiences.

The Rules are good fun and a quick read (the complete list is here: http://www.foundationsmag.com/civility.html).

Some of them are from another age. Some of them are laugh-out-loud funny (“When in Company, put not your Hands to any Part of the Body, not usually Discovered.“, “In the Presence of Others Sing not to yourself with a humming Noise, nor Drum with your Fingers or Feet.“).

Some of them are wildly topical – masks and social distancing, anyone? (“If You Cough, Sneeze, Sigh, or Yawn, do it not Loud but Privately; and Speak not in your Yawning, but put Your handkerchief or Hand before your face and turn aside.“, “Shake not the head, Feet, or Legs roll not the Eyes lift not one eyebrow higher than the other wry not the mouth, and bedew no mans face with your Spittle, by approaching too near him when you Speak.”)

Some management lessons are to be found:

  • Being to advise or reprehend any one, consider whether it ought to be in public or in Private; presently, or at Some other time in what terms to do it & in reproving Show no Sign of Cholar but do it with all Sweetness and Mildness.
  • Wherein you reprove Another be unblameable yourself; for example is more prevalent than Precepts.
  • Never express anything unbecoming, nor Act against the Rules Moral before your inferiors.
  • Detract not from others neither be excessive in Commanding.
  • Undertake not what you cannot Perform but be Careful to keep your Promise.
  • Let thy carriage be such as becomes a Man Grave Settled and attentive to that which is spoken. Contradict not at every turn what others Say.

And lastly a few good reminders of personal behavior, not unlike things Marcus Aurelius might say.

  • Let your Conversation be without Malice or Envy, for ‘is a Sign of a Tractable and Commendable Nature: And in all Causes of Passion admit Reason to Govern.
  • Speak not injurious Words neither in Jest nor Earnest Scoff at none although they give Occasion.
  • Labor to keep alive in your breast that little spark of celestial fire called conscience.

The rules are a quick read, even if many of them are from another age. Good fun. And since there’s an election coming up, I’ll leave you with a view into Washington’s campaign tactics 🙂

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Ruminations

On politics

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COVID has led to an even crazier polarization of politics than we’ve seen in an already polarized Trump era. Even the slightest of issues around COVID, which one would hope would be treated as a public health issue and not a cudgel to bash one’s opponent, are politicized. I excuse neither the left nor the right here, I see them as equal offenders.

The writer H. L. Mencken has many pithy quotes about politics, but there’s an exchange in Howard Fast’s book Being Red that really captures how I feel about politics. Via Real Clear Politics

Fast would run for Congress on the American Labor Party ticket, write frequently for the Daily Worker, win the Stalin Peace Prize, be temporarily blacklisted in Hollywood, hauled before the House Committee on Un-American Activities, and jailed for contempt of Congress. In the late 1950s, he turned away from communism and wrote a book about the experience called “Being Red.”

In that memoir he relates an evocative encounter in late July 1948 at the Progressive Party convention, which he attended as a credentialed journalist and where he ran into one of his idols, H.L. Mencken. When Fast went to shake the great Baltimore Sun columnist’s hand, Mencken took it in both of his own hands and told him he’d just read “The American,” Fast’s novel based on the life of former Illinois Gov. John Peter Altgeld.

Mencken said that if he’d ever written anything that good, he’d “put down my pen with pleasure.” Howard Fast found this praise fulsome, but appreciated it nonetheless, and thanked Mencken, who then said, in reference to the Progressives, “Fast, what in hell’s name are you doing with this gang?”

“I tried to invent some clever reply, but all I could say was that it was a better place to be than at the Republican or Democratic convention,” Fast wrote. “This was as far from a bright or witty rejoinder as one could get, but I was tongue-tied, and the thought of preaching to Mencken or haranguing him was inconceivable. It was not just that I admired him and loved the way he wrote and thought, but he had just given me the best straightforward compliment I had ever received. I had no wish to challenge him. I owed him too much.”

But Mencken wasn’t finished.

“There’s a better place than that,” he said. “With yourself.”

“I can’t put politics aside,” Fast protested.

“Put it aside?” Mencken snorted. “Hell, no. Henry Louis Mencken is a party of one. Do you understand me? You’re a party of one. You don’t put politics aside; you taste it, smell it, listen to it, write it. You don’t join it. If you do, these clowns will destroy you as surely as the sun rises and sets.” 

Books, Favorites

Martini thoughts, literary and otherwise.

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When I was young, maybe 18, I visited my girlfriend (now wife)’s house. My father-in-law to be, a rather imposing and gruff former military officer, lets me in the house. At this time my now-wife and I had not been dating long, and I had hair down well-past my shoulders. So, you can imagine I was on thin ice (no pun intended!) with him. He led me into the kitchen, and I got “the question”. 

No, not that one. 

This question was, “Mark, do you want a Martini”? 

I was, as I say, 18, and I think I’d had gin once and decided it was the vilest thing on the planet. 

So of course, I said yes. 

He reached into the freezer, pulled out a bottle of gin, poured some in a glass, and handed it to me. 

Gulp. 

Even at that early stage of my cocktail career, I was pretty sure there was supposed to be something else in the glass. Wanting to stay on his good side, I smiled and choked it down. Later, he explained that was what he called a “combat Martini” — when you couldn’t be bothered to fool around. The “in the freezer” part was optional, he explained. Now, who can forget “shaken, not stirred”? My father-in-law’s Martini was neither. 

It’s been a long while since then, and I’ve encountered a lot of Martinis in my books and in my life. 

Triggered by a friend’s text message (not the I’m-losing-it kind of triggered, just the it-reminds-me-of kind of triggered), I’m thinking of some of my favorite Martini stories, literary and otherwise. My quarantine drink of choice has become the Martini, very dry. I haven’t yet taken to calling it a Quarantini, but I might get there. By the way: there are a lot of Quarantine Book Clubs out there!

“Shaken, not stirred” made its first appearance in Ian Fleming’s 6th Bond novel, Dr. No. But of course, it was memorialized forever by Sean Connery. This advice is contrary to all textbook cocktail technique — Martinis, and any other cocktail with no fruit juice, is to be stirred, not shaken. 

I was reminded of all this by my friend’s text message, reminding me of the advice from Kingsman, the Secret Service:

Martini, gin. Not vodka. Obviously, stirred for 10 seconds while glancing at an unopened bottle of vermouth.

To my now-adjusted tastes, this is how a dry Martini should be made. Gin, not Vodka. Perhaps, after first rinsing the glass with Vermouth and discarding it (the vermouth, not the glass).  Reasonable people can differ about this, of course.

Speaking of Martini tricks, I must pass on a secret I learned from James Salter, the world’s best writer you never heard of. (I have not explained this to my father-in-law — I am afraid of what he will say). From Life is Meals, a non-fiction book Salter wrote with his wife:

“There is a final, unconventional secret. Shake a Lea & Perrins Worcestershire sauce bottle, then quickly remove the cap and with it, dash a faint smudge of the contents — far less than a drop — into the bottom of the shaker before beginning. It adds the faint, unidentifiable touch of greatness.”

Olives? I can take or leave them — if I have good ones, I like them. Dirty Martini? Heaven forbid. No, just, no. 

Gin? Bombay Sapphire is my ideal. If on the expensive side. The Botanist is quite good, but even more expensive. Hendricks I find too floral, and yet again more expensive. Gordon’s gin, which will re-appear shortly as part of a Vesper, is quite inexpensive, and when very cold and combined with that magic ingredient mentioned above, is quite good. 

Vermouth? Who are we kidding? We’re not going use it, except to rinse the glass. Any brand will do. My father-in-law’s Martini recipe, likely not original, requires no vermouth at all, it simply requires looking at the picture of the man who invented Vermouth, while you drink your gin. You really just want the idea of vermouth, not the reality. (As he’s aged, his Martini purity has relaxed just a bit — he is now taken to putting a few big cubes of ice in a glass and pouring his gin over….)

Salter wrote fiction, mostly (although his memoirs Burning the Days is one of my favorite books ever. The section where the young Salter learns about sex is priceless). His Light Years is a beautiful, heartbreaking work about the disintegration of a marriage, but contains this less-dark nugget about Martinis, and showcases the diamond-like prose Salter is known for:

“I think I’d like a martini,” Viri said.
He drank one, icy cold, in a gleaming glass. It was like a change in the weather.
The pitcher held another, potent, clear.
“How do you make them so cold?” he asked.
“Well, you happen to have commanded the drink which is, in my opinion, the one true test. You have to have the right ingredients — and also you keep the gin in the freezer.”

Made with care, the Martini might be the perfect cocktail. The author H. L. Mencken memorably described the Martini as ‘the only American invention as perfect as the sonnet’. He’s also the (possibly apocryphal) author of one of my favorite quotes about creative endeavors: “There are three rules for the writing of a novel. Unfortunately no one knows what they are.”. A good reminder that conformity to some imagined set of rules doesn’t lead to novel work. 

Of course, it’s easy to overindulge in Martinis. Salter quotes the writer James Thurber in Life is Meals: “One is all right, two is too many, and three is not enough.” The satirist and writer Dorothy Parker’s famed quote also comes to mind:

I like to have a Martini, two at the very most; three, I’m under the table, four I’m under my host. 

Is there is any character in literature more associated with Martinis than James Bond? It’s hard to imagine. In Casino Royale (the book), he invents one of my favorite variations: the Vesper. 

”A Dry Martini”, he said. “One. In a deep champagne goblet.” 
”Oui, monsieur.” 
”Just a moment. Three measures of Gordons, one of vodka, half a measure of Kina Lillet. Shake it very well until it’s ice-cold, then add a large thin slice of lemonpeel. Got it?”

However you make your Martinis, I hope you have a great book on hand to read along with it. Books are a great comfort in times like these — especially if you’re reading with a friend! 

As for the proper Martini technique — here’s Bond’s latest take on “shaken, not stirred”. In Casino Royale (the movie), when faced with the inevitable question, he responds:

Do I look like I give a damn?

Happy Reading.

Career

On being coachable

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I have a new sport. Outrigger canoe paddling. I’m on a team. We have a coach. I’m a beginner, which means I do things wrong. I get coached. (Our coach, who can be quite direct in her feedback, likes to joke, “I’m not yelling, I’m coaching!”). I’m enjoying learning something new – which means, being humble and open, and hearing what will make me better.

A big part of being coachable is separating your personal feelings from the feedback. It’s not about me, it’s about whatever technique I’m trying to learn. Same thing at work – feedback isn’t an indictment of my personal value, it’s just something I can do better next time.

The Buddhists have a term, Shoshin, which means “Beginner’s Mind” – doing things with a humble and open mind, as if you have never done or seen something before. But this frame of mind isn’t just for beginners. Here is the coach of Shell Va’a, the Tahitian outrigger canoe team that wins the Molokai Hoe, an 40 mile canoe race across open ocean, from Molokai to Oahu, most every year. These are the best outrigger canoe paddlers IN THE WORLD. Notice what he says about picking his team, the emphasis on humbleness and willingness to learn.

Inside Shell Va’a – Episode 2 (English subtitles)

2 out of 4 Property of “Tahiti Infos” & “Hitiora Production” https://www.facebook.com/Tahitiinfos/videos/515188512447665/?t=0

Being humble and hungry, as he puts it, will take you a long way. Again, this is not just for beginners. Some of the best leaders I know personally have personal coaches. It can be hard to get outside yourself and get direct feedback, especially if you are in a senior position where nobody wants to challenge you. Find a way to get that feedback, and take it with an open mind.

It’s not just about personal performance either – this attitude about work product leads to great products. Jim Fell, who led design for goby, where I was CEO, was a master at this. It always amazed me to see how utterly ego-less he was when getting design feedback, and how aggressively he sought out points of view different than his own. Being open and humble doesn’t mean you don’t have a point of view – it means you can hear different points of view and integrate what makes sense.

Are you coachable?