Tag Archives: startups

Don’t Be A One Trick Pony

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In the heady days of pretending I was going to be a professional writer, I remember the extreme stress and anxiety of talking to agents.  These guys were in charge of shit, they had the magic dust to make your dreams real.  They could get you a pay check!

The best advice I ever got about how to talk to agents was from my esteemed playwriting professor, Jim Ryan.  If you want to be taken seriously as a writer and an agent is interested in you, there better be another script in your drawer that you can fed-ex over that afternoon.  And on top of that, there better be one or two or three good ideas for scripts floating around your head.  Because agents aren’t interested in one trick ponies.

Now, a few years later, I find myself in a similar position talking to VCs and investors about Rallywho.  Like agents who are looking for people who are talented in the art of crafting story, VCs are looking for people who are talented in the art of discovering business models, innovating around them, and executing them.  My take away has been that I should always be working.  Always be writing, building, learning.  Demonstrate your ability, and commitment.  Talk about your idea, but also talk about your competitor’s ideas, talk about a company you think you should start that should buy your first company.  Talk about your idea for a new interstate bus service.

In otherwords, don’t be a one trick pony.  

working nyc

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and the city? man. do i even need to tell you? it’s dripping in money, beauty, opportunity, everywhere. no wonder people get addicted to it. it feels like people are making deals on street corners and absolutely everything just might be possible. and i’m jumping cabs, midtown to the east village, dinner on 26th, some bar on 44th and 9th with my playwright friend, his cast drinking martini’s and eating hot dogs, jersey girls about to start dancing on the bar. we wind up at johnny’s at midnight and when i walked in, vonya smiled and leaned across the bar and gave me a hug and a kiss on the cheek and, i swear to god, i hear this other woman at the bar say to her boyfriend, “do you know who that is?” and then someone bought the bar pinkberry shots and a cheer goes out and someone else put counting crows on the juke box and all of a sudden, it’s 3am. i get home, 24 hours awake, and pass out only to wake up the next day at 7 and beat it out the door. 60th and madison, the 20th floor and some private equity conference room, frosted glass and the secretary brings us coffee and bottled water’s already on the table. a handshake and back downtown, lunch, contracts signed; edits initialed. in the corner, a bunch of new media guys drinking ice tea and talking about the ipad and this guy in a checkered shirt’s talking about iranian payment proxy systems and the bartender is making bloody marry’s and some chick in a short skirt is trying to look at the contract sliding down the bar and i’m like: yes. yes, this is, actually, fucking awesome thank you very much. and then i jumped a cab to penn station and then the acela southward with six heineken’s, a little jay z and of course some avril, lawyers and briefcases, a hundred eighty miles an hour and outside the window, wilmington’s rushing by. and in my head? the million dollar possibility and why not? why not.