Revisiting an old lesson
The importance of being prepared for "informal chats"
About 15 years ago, I accidentally slammed my right index finger in the trunk of my car. It was bad. I got a few stitches, a splint, and some pain meds, and I was in absolute agony. I had the challenge of keeping the pointer finger of my dominant hand straight and protected as it healed. I couldn’t work and spent about a week in a painful haze.
In the middle of my recovery, I had a previously scheduled “chat with the managing partners” at a boutique design consultancy. Despite my injury, I decided to go. I was fresh out of grad school and job-hunting, and I naively assumed it would just be an informal chat. But when I arrived, I was escorted to a conference room and told the partners were on their way, so I should start “plugging in my laptop to present my work.” I was completely caught off guard and, honestly, surprised I even had my laptop with me. In retrospect, OF COURSE a designer having a “chat” with partners at a design firm would involve a portfolio review.
But, I was horrifically unprepared. Due to my finger injury, I could barely move my hand across the trackpad of my laptop as I slowly navigated through Finder, highlighting some PNGs and hitting the space bar to preview UI screens I’d been working on. It was a slow-motion, literally—and figuratively—painful train wreck. Finally, one of the partners interrupted the cringefest and said, gently:
“Is this how you usually show your work?”
I think he was trying to be nice and figure out how we all ended up in what felt like an episode of Curb Your Enthusiasm or some other awkward TV show. I shamefully explained my finger injury and my confusion over the nature of our meeting, then wrapped up the horror show as quickly as possible. I left that office in a hurry. Needless to say, they did not follow up.
I was mortified and definitely burned a bridge, but I learned a valuable lesson. It became a core memory and something I’ve since shared with folks I’ve mentored. Despite dying a little inside, I was reborn as “the person who will always be prepared and ready to bust out a presentation.” It directly led to my love of making slide decks and using presentations as a tool to craft the stories I want to tell and the emotions I want to evoke. So, in hindsight, I’m grateful it happened! Not the finger injury, though. That I could definitely live without.
Always Be Pitching
As I mentioned in a recent post, I’m still getting used to being a founder and being ready to pitch at any time. Last week, I went to an Oktoberfest event with my husband, and the friend we were meeting texted us: “My CEO wanted to join me for a drink, we’re inside.” Sounds fun, right? New people! So I rolled in, wearing a goofy promotional felt Oktoberfest hat, holding a boot of beer, assuming we’d just chat casually. I was “off the clock” and not really thinking about Practice. (Okay, I was thinking about it, but it was more of a low hum in the background.)
We were a few minutes into a perfectly normal conversation and then my friend said, “I really liked your blog post last week, Erica,” and turned to his CEO, adding, “She is co-founding a company!” It was sweet of him—he was giving me a lay up and the unique opportunity to practice pitching to a CEO/founder who had raised over $100M in venture funding. BUT: I HAD FORGOTTEN MY LESSON. I had presumed this was just an innocuous hang out session. But you never know when you’ll be asked to, proverbially, plug in your laptop and put on a little show. So I felt kind of ready for it.
Highs, Lows, and Dollhouse Detours
I’d rate that pitch a 3 out of 5, which is better than the previous impromptu pitch I wrote about (barely a 2 out of 5). But still not great.
The good-ish:
The pitch recipient was interested and seemed to connect with the problem and opportunity
We had a great conversation about his and his partner’s creative hobbies, and ended up geeking out over the brain science and health benefits of hobbies
My friend (who has heard a few iterations of the pitch now) gave me feedback after the fact that I was getting better, and that “the ‘there’ is there, it just needs sharpening”
I felt much more comfortable pitching on-the-spot!
The not-so-great:
I spent too much time on the setup and ended up showing my dollhouses (seems to always happen when I pitch—this has its pros and cons)
By the time we circled back to the actual solution, there was still interest, but it had already been a few minutes. It felt like I was taking up too much space in the broader conversation for an informal, impromptu pitch in a social setting
I didn’t really explain the nuts and bolts of Practice all that well—which is arguably one of the most important things to do in a pitch 🤣
I didn’t have a specific ask or a follow up/call to action. I don’t think I even mentioned Practice’s name, and certainly not the URL
But, hey—progress! I’m considering going full Founder next time and just blurting out: “Buzzfeed quiz on steroids (aka AI) meets Wirecutter meets Strava for Crafts. Join the waitlist at practicemaking.com” and seeing what happens.
But wait, there’s more
The cherry on top? When we left the event, my friend casually mentioned, “By the way, my CEO is a scout for [well known VC firm].” Cool cool cool. I may have lightly scorched that bridge (it wasn’t another “injured finger on a trackpad” conflagration moment), but every pitch—good or bad—teaches me something new about sharing our vision and my passion for Practice. It gets easier each time.
I’m starting to think of being a founder as another creative practice. Each “cringe moment” is a chance to learn and improve. Just like with any hobby, the more I practice, the better I get at being a founder.