For the Film Biz Dorks

A quick note for all aspiring film entrepeneurs in New York City:

The Institute for International Film Financing, based in San Francisco, is now branching out to our fair city. It’s a great group in which to network with other business-minded film folks, and their inaugural NYC event this Thursday evening has an impressive lineup of speakers. Plus, me.

I’ll be talking about finding and seducing investors, and I promise the talk itself is far better than the name (which I didn’t come up with myself), “THE FILM ENTREPRENEUR’S GUIDE TO SUCCESS: Strategies for Funding Your Film Co & Keeping Investors Happy”.

Other folks will be talking about deal structure, courting hedge funds, tax credits, profitably distributing documentaries, and approaching film investment from a quantitative perspective.

While I realize most of you fell asleep even just reading that last sentence, I also don’t doubt there are a handful of folks who wet their pants a little bit at the prospect of that lineup. If you’re one of them, come on down, and certainly pop over to say hello.

Cohabitation

Rob Barnum, who heads up Cyan’s West Coast office, arrives in town early early early tomorrow morning via JetBlue red-eye, with his fiance Sophie in tow.

On past such trips, with both of us decidedly more single, and with our company equally bastardly cheap, Rob opted out of hotel booking, instead taking over my living room’s fold-out couch.

So, out of old habit, we didn’t book him somewhere to stay at the time he booked his flight for this trip, about a month or so back. We thought nothing of it, until late last week, when we realized that wedging a nearly-married couple along with me into my Manhattan-size apartment would, in short, be remarkably, awkwardly cramped.

So, for the balance of the week, I’m essentially gifting my home to those two crazy kids, and invading Jess’ instead. It will be, by far, the longest contiguous stretch of nights she’s had to put up with me; I give it four nights, tops, before my insisting on alternative pronunciations of words like ‘equinox’ leads her to punch me in the face.

Update: Jess texted to say she wouldn’t punch me in the face. She’d kick me instead.

Easy IPO

The girl is head of marketing for a high-end maternity-wear company; as such, I got a chance to visit their New York boutique, and was quite impressed by the stylish pairs of women’s jeans stocked there, with top few inches of fabric retofitted with stretch spandex.

And while, certainly, the market for such pregnancy-friendly women’s clothing is well documented, I’m convinced a men’s version of those same jeans could easily become the anchor of a similarly succesful product line.

Consider this: you’ve just eaten Thanskgiving dinner, or an overly generous mid-summer helping of baby back ribs. Your pants are uncomfortably snug around the waist. If only your jeans were able to stretch accomodatingly around your distended stomach. If only, in short, you were wearing a pair of of Eatin’ Pants(tm).

Despite what seems to me a compelling business case, the girl remains unwilling to jump ship from her current job to launch such a no-fail startup. So, entrepreneurs of the internet, I gift this concept to you. All I ask in return is a free pair from the sample run. 30″ length; 29″ waist before I start eating, and perhaps 36″ after a third helping of turkey, stuffing and cranberry come November 24th.

Professionalism

Annotated last paragraph of an email from me to the CEO of a successful digital distribution company:

That said, I’d be happy to meet up for drinks, though would also love to get you on the phone with [San Francisco-based Cyan VP] Josh [Pincus] at some point, as he’s our point-man for all things digital. Would Wednesday or Friday afternoon work for a call? And, sometime next week for a round of drinks?

Last paragraph of the CEO’s reponse:

As for drinks, my drinking schedule is COMPLETELY OPEN next week, and I am ashamed. Monday at 8:30 AM EST before work?

Then, capping it all off, an email to both of us from Josh Pincus:

A call at that time on Wednesday works for me. Drinks sound good too; I’ll be at a bar at 5:30 AM Monday so that we’re all drinking at the same time.

other Josh

Worst part is, come Monday at 5:30/8:30 AM, there’s at least a 50% chance we’ll actually be having those drinks.

Cyan Pictures: we take this shit serious.™

Leveraged

Nearly nine years back, I and a college friend named David Fischer started up a database software company called SharkByte.

It grew faster than we expected, and, in the process, he and I had to write lots and lots and lots of RFP’s for potential clients. These pitch documents are mind-numbing to write for the first few, and then get progressively worse from there. So for each one, we’d try to invent a new buzzword.

Inevitably, when we’d go in to pitch the client live, they’d quote back our invented word like it was in common usage, happy to agree with our utterly meaningless, but highly technical-sounding, assessment.

Over time, a few of those invented buzzwords became favorites, appearing in long successive strings of RFPs and other documents. At the top of the heap was ‘core technology fulcrum’ (as in “we believe the software interface will allow you to leverage your company’s core technology fulcrum.”), which never failed to land the deal, and which I still occasionally use.

Yesterday, however, David emailed along this informational gem:

Newman,

Was reading the 2003 edition of A Random Walk Down Wall Street and what do I see on page 61 but the phrase “core technology fulcrum” mentioned as a nonsense phrase invented in the 60s conglomerate craze.

Clearly genius is destined to repeat itself.

Indeed.

Note to Self

One of Long Tail’s investors just doubled down on our second round; after his wire hit, he sent along this email, summarizing the secret of entrepreneurial success in five sentences:

Stay focused and attack your plan. We grew from $3 million to $165 million in sales over 15 years. Step by step. Intense focus. Blocking and tackling, innovating, executing.

I know you can make it happen.

best,

Mike

Intervention

This is what you get for hiring smart-asses:

From: Rob Barnum
Subject: Intervention

Josh-
Our relationship takes on many forms: business partners, CrossFit devotees, dot com escapees, an Old Testament microcosm, co-blimp pilots, bloggers, friendsÖyou get the idea.
But, my good chap, when you blog about company business and then accidentally link to some unknown weblog (www.blure.com?) rather than our animation partner, it makes us all look bad. From both a blog-brotherhood standpoint as well as a company.
Since today is a day of prayer, think about it.
You really let us down.
Rob

Undisclosed

Back in my venture capital days, I saw and signed a slew of NDA’s, or non-disclosure agreements, which guaranteed that, as a signee, I wouldn’t steal a company’s ideas and try to pass them off as my own.

Running Cyan, I almost never saw an NDA – literary releases, perhaps, but rarely something that guaranteed the secrecy of abstractly discussed ideas for running a business. Since starting Long Tail a few months back, however, those NDAs have returned to my life in full force. My desk is littered with them, and my fax machine buzzes with incoming and outgoing signed copies throughout the day.

Long Tail, on the other hand, doesn’t have an NDA of its own. In part because, from a legal standpoint, most aren’t worth the paper they’re printed on. But mainly because I don’t think business ideas themselves are worth all that much. The best way to protect a good idea, by far, is to execute it, really, really well.

As we’ve been lining up vendor partnerships for digital release of Long Tail’s content, many of the NDA’s I’ve signed recently cover aspects of selling movies over the internet. Yet, I suspect, most reasonably bright eight year olds could come up with the same concept: “Hey! You know what would be great? You should be able to buy movies online like you buy MP3s!!”

No shit. But saying as much doesn’t make it so. Instead, you have to somehow piece together an endless array of servers and bandwidth and software and content partnerships, top it off with some special sauce, and then get your downloads out into the world. Doing so, as you might imagine, takes ungodly amounts of work. Which, in short, is why Long Tail is partnering with digital download vendors in the first place: the millions of dollars and thousands of hours of sweat equity these companies put in to making movie downloads work will doubtless yield far better solutions than my colleagues and I could half-assedly cobble together in-house in our spare time.

So, send me your NDA. I’m happy to sign it. I’ll even use my good pen. But if you think that piece of paper brings you even one step closer to changing the world or retiring young to the Bahamas, you’re out of your mind. While you and your lawyers were drafting up that NDA, moving commas and reworking clauses, somebody else was busy instead making the same idea into a reality. And that’s the person we’re going to partner with. Because, odds are, they’re about to kick your ass.

[Post-script: about three minutes after I put this online, another “fully executed” NDA just rolled out of my fax machine. The timeliness of Self-Aggrandizement entries never ceases to amaze.]

Vestmented

[As running two companies seems to have been eating into my writing time, blog entry ideas have been piling up, unposted, for the past week. I’m hoping to start chipping my way through the list over the next few days. To wit:]

Mark Twain once famously observed, “clothes make the man. Naked people have little or no influence on society.” Which is the primary reason I get dressed in the morning. And, more to the point, why I try to do it well.

As countless studies have shown, the way we dress deeply impacts what others think of us, how likely they are to listen to us or to do what we ask. Sure, we all occasionally chastise ourselves for so blithely judging books by their proverbial covers. But, whether or not we should, we most certainly and subconsciously do. Which makes pulling clothes from the closet a strategic exercise. How does a given shirt make me feel? How does it make me appear in the eyes of others?

It’s important enough that, spending my days the past week bouncing between meetings with filmmakers and meetings with investors and corporate execs, I’ve even stooped to mid-afternoon changes, pulling from two disparate subsets of my wardrobe.

Most business books, on the subject of clothing, advise that you dress to match the people with whom you’re meeting. Which, like most advice doled out in business books, is hopelessly misguided. Far better, instead, to dress to match their expectations of how someone in your position is ‘supposed’ to look.

The jeans, blazer and vintage button downs, then, come out not for the filmmakers, but for the staid execs, a group for whom sunglasses worn indoors bespeaks a certain desirable level of cool, rather than suggesting total douche-bagdom, as it would to fellow filmmakers. Similarly, then, the suits come out for meetings with screenwriters or prospective key cast. Without a tie, certainly, and perhaps erring towards DKNY shirts rather than Polo Ralph Lauren’s, but still formal enough to say, “yes, I’m intimately familiar with the finer points of GAAP and SEC filing laws.”

This ‘dress like they want you to’ rule is not a recent discovery. Instead, it’s something I stumbled across my freshman year in college. Having just launched SharkByte, I quickly found that the odds of success in a new-client sales pitch were directly proportional to the number of electronic gizmos I clipped to my belt for that pitch.

Or, as I so tastefully summarized the idea to the Wall Street Journal: “show them a laptop and they’ll wet their pants.”