So anyway, lately I’ve been thinking about writing a book about me, me, me, since I believe I’m interesting and my life is book-worthy, plus I’m hoping Julia Roberts would play me in the movie (wearing padding, of course) because back when my kids were little I started an art studio in my basement and painted old suitcases with puff paint, and Julia.Roberts.actually.bought.one!
Besides Julia Roberts purchasing a craft I made in my basement 9 years ago, I am also book-worthy because my husband and I founded a start up company a year and a half ago, and I’m a Startup Wife.
The company is called 401k Buddy. My husband made a web-based software tool to help people figure out asset allocation, and I found top notch advisors and a CEO to help us build the company and work for free. My title is “Convincer.”
401k Buddy is just as sexy as Julia Roberts, right?
Maybe not, but our story is. I mean, who wouldn’t like a feel-good, Oprah-Worthy story about two (married) lovers betting their entire future on helping their fellow citizens rebuild this great nation, one properly allocated 401k at a time? Even Ira Glass might want to hear about this one.
Except it doesn’t have a happy ending. Guess I’m not so convincing after all. Damn. I’ll have to fire myself. At least I won’t have to sign any non-existent checks to myself.
Alas, due to the economic.meltdown.of.the.whole.entire.world, we can’t find anyone to give us enough funding to really get 401k Buddy going all the way, despite our great patent-pending technology and fabulous people. We used our own money for a long time, and we were close, oh-so-close, but no cigar, and now we’re broke.
So, what’s a Startup Wife to do? We’re going to start another company, of course.
Yes, we have another big idea that we’re working on, in our spare time when we’re not rewriting our resumes and begging our old bosses to take us back as “consultants” until we have enough cash in the checking account to buy enough food for the three children and two dogs who live with us. This idea is much cheaper, too, since we can do it on our own, and we won’t need a CEO to work for free, or a team of developers, or attorneys, or compliance officers for quite a while yet.
The plan is simple: as soon as we have some more rent money saved up, we will dive back into the entrepreneur’s crazy pool, at the deep end, and sink or swim. Again.
What is wrong with us, you ask? I’m not sure. Maybe you’ll find out when you read my book, and then you can tell me.
So, writing a funny book about being a Startup Wife is a great idea, don’t you think? People need humor, especially since their 401k’s suck.so.bad. And I can be funny, especially for a hefty advance from a smart publisher who appreciates my gifts. I’m serious.
And now, for all you publishers out there reading this, as part of my due diligence, I’ve made a list of pluses and minuses to consider regarding my new Startup Wife book adventure:
Plus: No competition. I can’t recall any hilarious, co-founder wives books, so there wouldn’t be much competition in this genre, right? If anyone sees a funny Startup Wife book, please let me know. I’d like to invite that author out for a drink (Dutch treat!)
Question: Why don’t we see any funny Startup books, Mr. Guy Kawasaki?
Answer: (from me, Guy isn’t here, he’s probably hanging out with his own Startup Wife) Maybe it’s not so funny getting rejected by Venture Capitalists during the worst economic meltdown in the history of my generation, and it’s not so funny wondering if you’ve just bet your kids’ college education funds on the future sales of a 401k asset allocation tool for the masses when most of the masses don’t know what the phrase asset allocation actually means (although they should!)
I bet I could make it sound funny.
Minus: depression hurts, my neck is killing me, I have insomnia, and my crappy self-employed insurance makes me co-pay for any Ambien or Zoloft I might like to request. Plus my doctor moved away, and who wants to go find a new doctor at a time like this just to get a prescription I probably won’t fill anyway? Not me. Plus, if I’m awake at night worrying about my family’s future, I have way more time to write a book then if I’m just sleeping half my life away. I’m just saying.
Plus: I think insomnia should be listed under plus, not minus, for the reasons I just mentioned.
Plus: people might buy a book with 401k in the title, even though they don’t want to open their statement envelope, because they think they should, so maybe I could call the book “The 401k Startup Wife” or something super catchy.
Statement: 401k savings are still super important and if Americans run out of money, we’ll all end up in soup kitchens and I don’t think there will be enough soup. If there’s one thing I do NOT want to think about, it’s being hungry and having to fight off a homeless guy for a bowl of minestrone down at the soup kitchen.
I think I would win, for the record, since the homeless guy would not be expecting a chubby mommy talking into a high-end cell phone to be kicking him to the ground and screaming out crazy, startup vocabulary phrases like:
“We didn’t get our f***ing Seed Round even though the VC’s said they loved us 3 months ago, and said they’d give us Series A once we got a customer, which we did, by the way, but now there is nothing left in my brokerage account, which means I’m down to my woefully undervalued Intel DRIP which I so.do.not.want to liquidate (have you SEEN Intel’s stock price lately, buddy?) so don’t you or anyone else dare talk to me about trading options to buy groceries, asshat! Just get the hell out of my way, I am HUNGRY!”
At least I don’t think they’d be expecting me in their soup line. But the homeless guy could very well be a former neighbor of mine whose house just went into foreclosure, or perhaps the VC himself, in which case, I might kick him anyway. Ladies first, after all.
[Of course I wouldn’t really kick a VC, I might need him later, since I’m a Serial Entrepreneur now. So, any former or future VC friends, no offense.]
My real question is this: do book publishers really have to see and entirely finished book before they accept you, or can I just write the first few chapters and submit? The thing is, I’m not sure how this story ends yet, since we’re in the middle of it, but something will be happening to our lives in the next few months, since we’ll run out of money shortly and, you know, I can sort of spin this story however the editors want it. And it will be hilarious, I’m sure.
Especially if they pay me a hefty advance.
p.s. if anyone wants to buy a kick-ass asset allocation tool, please email me at email@example.com, since I’ll be keeping the email indefinitely.