Today marked the end of my twenty-third week of working from home (mostly). Here are my takeaways from week twenty-three:

• Eye strain – This week I had a record number of video meetings, including one that lasted four hours. My eyes feel a bit strained, which probably isn’t good. I’ll avoid screens this weekend (as much as possible).
• Virtual showcase – I attended my first event in a virtual venue: Square One Startup School’s Startup Showcase. The organizers had arranged networking via one-on-one conversations, a DJ, and even exhibition booths. I was impressed and would attend another one of these.  
• Pace – This week was another busy one. I’m looking forward to returning to a more normal pace next week. (Truly! Yes, I know I said that last week.)
• Large projects – I planned to attack some big projects, but I couldn’t find the concentrated blocks of time it would take. I’ve blocked out chunks of time on my calendar to try to prevent this from happening again.

Week twenty-three was hectic. I didn’t accomplish what I wanted to, which was disappointing. I’m looking forward to having some uninterrupted time to focus next week.    

I’ll continue to learn from this unique situation, adjust as necessary, and share my experience.

Yesterday a close friend connected me with a new founder. This founder, John, has a background in logistics and wants to apply that knowledge to help businesses in his underserved community. He talked to a few restaurateurs about their specific challenges and figured he could help.

I spent about thirty minutes with John and learned a ton about the opportunity he sees and about him as an entrepreneur. John noticed a few things about restaurateurs in his community. One, many don’t have any online presence. No website. No anything. There are a variety of reasons for this, but lack of familiarity with technology is part of it. Two, they don’t have the ability to accept online orders for pickup. Customers stand in long lines or are stuck on hold when they call in orders. Three, most of these restaurants are looking for a delivery option that better meets their customers’ needs. Four, the pandemic has stoked their desire to find solutions to one, two and three. They need these solutions quickly so they can survive in this new world. But they don’t have the knowledge, relationships, or capital to execute on them quickly.

John figures he can solve some or all of these problems. Now, a few things to take note of. He doesn’t have a technology background, but he knows technology will be key (knowledge gap). He doesn’t have a lot of money (capital gap), so he needs a cost-effective technology solution. He doesn’t know any developers (relationship gap). He was able to find the help he needs via . . . wait for it . . . Google. He connected with technical talent overseas. He described his problem and they suggested an off-the-shelf solution. He is now able to offer the following to every restaurant he targets:

• A website for ordering
• A mobile app for ordering

All for a small amount of capital. Now, the technology isn’t DoorDash or Uber Eats quality, but it’s good enough. He can offer restaurants an online presence with their own mobile app and the ability to offer online ordering for pickup. He used his logistics background to assemble a small team of delivery drivers. Add it all together, and voilà! He created an MVP that solves all three problems he learned about. And he did it all in about a month.

He has signed up a handful of restaurants as customers and is delivering a significant number of orders daily. Every day he’s learning more about his customers and their problems. He’s adjusting his solution based on those learnings.

John is a great example of an entrepreneur looking for a product–market fit. He’s trying to find the ideal solution to his customer’s problems using an MVP he cobbled together quickly. Is the current solution perfect? No. Is it scalable? In the long run, probably not. Is he learning and adjusting quickly? Absolutely. Will his adjustments lead him to a great solution that customers readily pay for? The way he’s going about things makes success more likely.

If you see a problem and have an idea about how to solve it, consider starting with an MVP. It doesn’t have to be perfect or pretty.

During my journey with CCAW, I experienced some extreme highs and lows. There were times when we were on top of the world and had more customers than we could handle. There were other times when we wouldn’t survive unless I figured something out quickly. I know from talking with other entrepreneurs that extremes are a normal part of the journey. Apparently, it’s part of the package deal you get when you sign up for achieving something great.

People often believe that entrepreneurs are different than everyone else. This is (somewhat) true. Where others see a problem, we see an opportunity to fix a problem. When others avoid a situation with a high probability of failure, we grab onto it. Mostly, though, we’re just like everyone else. Entrepreneurs experience the same emotions and have the same thoughts as everyone else. Yes, we motivate our teams to push through adversity. Yes, we believe we can pull a rabbit out of a hat. But we also have the range of emotions you’d expect when things are going better than anticipated or horribly.

My first few years as an entrepreneur, I struggled a bit with this. I felt like I always had to have the answers. I had to be constantly optimistic. I couldn’t express how unsure or worried I was. I couldn’t openly say that I didn’t know what I was doing. Eventually I learned that this wasn’t sustainable or realistic. I was human, so acting like I was a machine just wouldn’t work. Through luck and networking, I found my saving grace: a support system.

Support systems are critical to help entrepreneurs (and everyone else for that matter) keep going through extreme times. Peer groups, family, business coaches, and mentors can all serve as part of your support system. They give you a way to talk through what you’re experiencing and feeling. They help you make sense of things. And really good ones help you come up with a path forward. All of this helps you maintain your mental wellness.

If you’re thinking about doing something great (or are already doing it), consider who could support you during the inevitable highs and lows.

Email has always been a challenge for me to manage. I’ve tried a variety of approaches over the years but never found one I could love. Inbox zero was always my goal, but I never got there. As I’ve embraced messaging through other platforms (Slack, LinkedIn, etc.) and added email accounts, my frustration has intensified. These days I’ve gone beyond annoyed to exasperated enough to seek a solution (and I’ll happily pay for it). I’m not doing anything unique, so I assume others experience this pain too.

With less in-person interaction in the foreseeable future, I think written communication will remain elevated (along with video). Email, Slack, text messages, direct messages, and more . . . they all require the user to manage an inbox inside an application. And the number of applications is growing by the day. I foresee more people struggling to communicate effectively via all these different apps.

Today I had a great conversation with a fellow entrepreneur about this. He feels the same way. Every day, he keeps multiple browser windows and tabs open for all his different inboxes. We dug into the problem more, discussed the shortcomings of existing products, and debated the desire for a solution to this in the market. We have a ton of questions we couldn’t answer but agreed there could be something here.

I don’t know what a solution would look like or how it would work, but I believe there’s a problem waiting to be solved. In my opinion, there’s a real entrepreneurial opportunity to build a sizeable business around the solution to too many inboxes.

In CCAW’s early days I was constantly trying to convince vendors to work with us. They’d never heard of CCAW and I was asking them to do things they weren’t doing for other customers. I sounded like that annoying customer who would be a pain to work with. Many said no, but a few said yes. Often the terms and pricing were unfavorable because I wasn’t in a position to negotiate. The opportunity, though, was worth paying inflated prices.

Over time our spend and reputation with vendors grew. Our use of technology meant that our relationship required minimal interaction. Translation: our account was highly profitable. Vendors loved working with us. We eventually became the largest customer of some of them.

One day I realized that our relationships had evolved from customer–vendor to more of a partnership. We had a unique perspective (and data to support it) on their operations across many states. We also had customer insights nationally. None of their other customers provided these things.

We began to embrace our strengths. We started providing data to our vendors, but we also made an ask. We had been bearing the brunt of their operational mistakes and eating the costs. In our minds it was a cost of doing business. As we scaled, the error percentage stayed the same, but the dollars were material (e.g., an 1% error rate went from a loss of $1,000 to $100,000 annually). We asked them to assume this financial burden. We thought they would say no. After all, it wasn’t something they did for any other customer. To our surprise, they quickly agreed. No negotiation. Just a quick yes. Apparently, the value we brought to the relationship far exceeded the cost of our request.

Healthy relationships are bidirectional. This experience taught me a valuable lesson about managing healthy business relationships. Ask for what you need to receive from the relationship. Good partners will recognize your value and want to reciprocate by saying yes.

Today I had a conversation with a friend. He’s questioning himself even though he’s successful. Are my peers passing me up? Should I be striving for more? Why don’t I have the life others have? He’s comparing himself to people who appear to be more successful.

When I was building CCAW, there was a time in 2011–2012 when I compared myself to other founders and kept score. Am I growing as fast as my peers? Who will reach $1 million in annual revenue first? Why didn’t I think to do X? Why haven’t we implemented Y? This period was short-lived. I thought through things and realized the following:

• Industry – CCAW operated in an industry that resisted change. And I bootstrapped the company, so we had to be capital efficient. Leaning on partners to warehouse products and fulfill our orders was a capital-efficient model. We were attached to their hips for better or worse. We had lots of great ideas but couldn’t execute them without partner buy-in. Our growth was heavily affected by our partners’ willingness to embrace change. They often did so only slowly, after years of conversations.
• Gaps – My peers all had different backgrounds. Some came from entrepreneurial families. Some had worked in startups before. Others were starting their second or third company. I was from a family of folks who worked for other people, I’d worked in the corporate world, and I was building my first company. They had entrepreneurial knowledge gaps—I had chasms. It took time to learn what I didn’t know, so my path to success was longer.
• Outside looking in – You never know someone’s full story. Their life may look great, but they could be in debt up to their eyeballs or miserable in myriad other ways. Lots of people fake it till they make it (or don’t make it). It’s foolish to make yourself unhappy by comparing your life, which you know well, to someone else’s facade.

I learned early in the CCAW journey to focus on what was right for my company and me. I acknowledged that my background and circumstances were different than those of my peers. Some things I would never do, or I’d do them at a slower pace. And that was OK. I supported and congratulated my peers on their accomplishments. I tried to focus on our successes instead of dwell on the things we hadn’t accomplished. Life is better when you see the glass as half full.

Comparisons are bad for your mental health. Unfortunately, many people compare themselves to others at some point. If you find yourself falling into that trap, give yourself credit for your accomplishments and recall Teddy Roosevelt’s wisdom: “Comparison is the thief of joy.”

In the past few months I’ve given two presentations, one for Start It Up Georgia and one for Start It Up Summer School. Before these, I hadn’t presented to an external audience—one not affiliated with CCAW—in a decade. I was recently asked how I prepare. I didn’t have a ready response, and I recognized the value in thinking it through to answer the question. I decided to share my approach with everyone.

Keep in mind that I was doing what felt right as I went along. I didn’t have a written process. This post is the first time I’ve documented my approach to presenting, which plays to my strengths of being analytical and deliberative. Here’s how I go about it:

1. Research – I develop a deeper understanding of the topic and recent developments. I check to see if I’ve written any relevant posts (they’re useful because they capture my thoughts).
2. Reflect – What is the topic? Why do people want to hear a talk about it? What do I want the audience to walk away knowing? I jot down random ideas.
3. Perspectives – If I know people who’ve presented on the topic or are familiar with it, I ask for their perspective. I share my thoughts and ask for their feedback.
4. Outline – I create a high-level written outline. What are the major points I want to cover? Does this flow make sense? This helps me logically organize my thoughts.
5. Deck content – I create the first version of the deck. Some content is new; some is borrowed from previous presentations. Visually it’s ugly, but the material is there. I run through it to evaluate the logic and flow.
6. Visual design 1 – I send the deck to a designer. We go back and forth until we have a V1 draft that I like. Nailing down the overall look and feel of the presentation is the goal.  
7. Deck V1 – I create notes for each slide. I detail the main things I want to convey and any relevant stories from my past experiences. I practice the presentation a few times. I start to get a feel for my pacing, total presentation time, and logical flow. I adjust my notes and content and make a list of desired visual changes.
8. Visual design 2 – I send the change requests to the designer. We tweak until we have a final version.
9. Rehearsal – I rehearse the presentation until I feel comfortable with it from beginning to end. Every time I run through it, I make small changes to my slide notes. I know I’m done when I feel relaxed with the timing and delivery and can’t think of anything else to change.

This seems like a lot, but it really isn’t too bad. It can take as long as I need it to or as little as two or three days. I do multiple steps simultaneously. I try to be respectful of the time of other people who contribute, such as the designer, and avoid a last-minute fire drill. (Sadly, it doesn’t always work out that way.)

Public speaking isn’t something I enjoy. It makes me nervous. The butterflies don’t go away until the presentation is over, but this process helps me build the confidence I need to deliver a good presentation.

What’s your approach to preparing for a presentation?

Today marked the end of my twenty-second week of working from home (mostly). Here are my takeaways from week twenty-two:

• Safe place – This was week two of working in a safe office space part of the week. I was focused and productive, which I needed. I enjoyed the separation between home and work. I feel better mentally.
• Pace – This past week and weekend were busy. The preparation for Start It Up Georgia and following up with attendees took more time than I planned for. I wouldn’t change anything about it, but I’m looking forward to a slower pace this weekend and next week.
• Paying it forward – I made a point of following up with Start It Up Georgia attendees who reached out. I had meetings with some of them this week and will have more over the next two weeks. It’s a big time commitment but I think it will be worthwhile. I’m excited to continue seeing the energy people bring to entrepreneurship. It feels good to play a role (albeit a small one) in their journey.

Week twenty-two was a busy one. Lots of moving pieces with high stakes. Luckily everything went well. I was happy to give back to others. Next week I’ll spend more time on large projects.  

I’ll continue to learn from this unique situation, adjust as necessary, and share my experience.

When I identify a problem that I’d like to solve, I try to remind myself to be self-aware. Am I suited to solve this problem? I ask myself. As much as I want to, I may or may not be the right person. I have to be honest about my abilities; otherwise I could fail to capitalize on a great opportunity.

I’ve addressed (notice I didn’t say solved) problems I had no business addressing. With hindsight, I can see that I usually lacked one or both of the following:

• Sufficient understanding of a problem based on experience or deep knowledge of the space.
• Relationships in the space that could open closed doors or lead to potential customers.

At CCAW, we moved into a new product category that we weren’t qualified to enter. I saw an opportunity to solve a customer’s problem with acquiring certain parts. The result: a slog. We spent years trying to understand and solve the problem. We later learned that no one had solved the problem because of the extreme degree of complexity and dependencies involved. In the end our attempt was marginally successful and took way too long. One of our main competitors lapped us (a few times, actually).

In retrospect, no one on our team had any knowledge or relationships in the space. We were clueless outsiders trying to solve something we didn’t understand. We eventually figured something out (kinda), but it was painful and prolonged.

I now approach problems differently. If I know I’m not qualified, I identify where my gaps are and try to fill them. Working with partners who complement me—my strengths are their weaknesses and vice versa—has worked well.  I’ve also had success working to fill my gap. For example, when I lack experience, I look for opportunities to gain experience and learn (even if it’s unpaid).

Entrepreneurship is all about solving problems for paying customers. If you aren’t qualified to solve the problem, you probably won’t do it very well. (Not good for customer satisfaction!) Ask yourself if you should be solving this problem. If the answer is no, try to better position yourself.  

Today I had a great conversation with a rising founder. One of the things we talked about was her experience working with investors who fight hard for founders behind the scenes. She thinks the right investor can be a game changer. I didn’t raise capital for CCAW and fought an uphill battle on many fronts. It was tough, but in the end, with a little luck, it worked out well. I wouldn’t change anything about CCAW’s journey, but I think she has a great point.

Founders unfamiliar with raising capital or the world of venture capital may not realize it, but good investors often add much more than capital. Here are a few examples:

• Portfolio peers – Professional investors have a portfolio of investments in many companies. Good investors will connect the founders of their portfolio companies so they can form a peer group and learn from each other.
• Elusive customers – Relationships are currency and investors know everyone. They often can open doors to help their portfolio companies land customers they otherwise couldn’t (limited partners in their fund, other portfolio companies, etc.).
• Experience – Investors are wise in the ways of entrepreneurship. They’ve been around the block many times and seen companies succeed and fail. Their experience can be invaluable to a first-time founder. The right investor can tell a founder what’s around the corner, helping the founder avoid land mines and serious setbacks.

I know a successful founder who raised a few million dollars for his startup. But here’s the catch: he never spent a dime of it. His company was profitable and he didn’t need to raise capital. He needed something else. He raised capital to gain access to experience and wisdom. He knew he wanted to build a huge company and therefore wanted people around him who had done just that. Yes, he gave up some ownership in his company, but he achieved (and far exceeded) his goal. His investors’ experience proved invaluable.

Raising capital isn’t right for every company, but when it is, choosing an investor who can add more than capital can be a game changer!