Fast Fundraising Fix

Food for Thought

VC money is like rocket fuel. If you’re building a rocket, you need lots of it. If you’re building a car, you shouldn’t touch it because it’ll ruin your engine.

Fast Fundraising Fix

Let’s kick things off with a downer: Most startups fail. They go bankrupt, pivot, or sell for scraps. Even the successful ones often exit for less than $100M.For a founder, that’s often life-changing. New house, better therapist, maybe a Tesla.For VCs, it’s a miss.Here’s why: VCs expect each investment to return their entire fund. They’re banking on one or two of them to pay for everything: investments, expenses plus big returns.That’s because VC portfolios are like baby turtles — 30 hatch and make their way into the ocean, but only one or two make it. The rest? Seagulls. Sharks. A rogue jet ski.So put yourself in their shoes. VCs raise money from LPs with the promise to triple their investment within 10 years. To hit that goal, a $100M fund needs to return $300M to its LPs.Here’s how the math shakes out using simple numbers:

For a SaaS business, reaching a $2B valuation usually means you’re at $200M ARR (assuming a 10x revenue multiple).Now, play around with your numbers and answer these questions:

Phew… we made it through the math. I feel like I need a snack now. Or maybe a hug.Here’s the thing: numbers don’t lie, and neither do seagulls. So, to avoid being bird food, answer these questions in your pitch:

Investors will do this math. Better do it for them.If you’re now realizing that you’re building a car, not a rocket, that’s a win too. You might have just dodged a frustrating VC fundraise.And if bootstrapping’s not your thing, no sweat. Here’s a list of Non-VC Funding Sources. More than 5,000 angels, family offices, accelerators, and grants. Go take a look.

Why It Works

VCs aren’t looking for “good businesses”.They’re chasing portfolio-saving moonshots. Big, shiny, might-blow-up-on-the-launch-pad rockets. Without this, conversations tend to die. Show them convincing rocket math, and they’ll eye you like the last slice of pizza.

Uli Kuenzel

Food for Thought

Investors bet on the jockey, not the horse.

Fast Fundraising Fix

Think back to the last time someone tried to sell you something — at the mall, on the street, or a video call. The moment they started pitching, you felt it. Guard up. Deflect. Escape. Fake a seizure if necessary.Assume that’s how investors feel when you start pitching.You know the look. Arms folded. Lips pressed together like they’re holding in a fart. Your job? Crack that shell with your pitch. And it’s a tough shell. So you’re already behind, sprinting uphill. And often all you get is a “Huh. That’s interesting.” which is VC-speak for “Leave.”So before you say a word about your solution or vision, you have to get the investor to stop looking at you like a cop who just pulled you over. First, you need to sell yourself, then your vision.But most founders pitch themselves like this:Education → Credential #1 → Credential #2 → Credential #3 → StartupNot their fault. That’s what corporate careers, recruiters, and LinkedIn have taught us.But when fundraising that ain’t enough — unless you’re ex-OpenAI or ex-Ramp. And even then, a little sauce wouldn’t hurt.Your CV only shows WHAT you’ve done, but not WHY you’re doing this.The biggest startup outcomes came from founders who:

Investors back founders who won’t quit when things get rough. The best way to prove you’re one of them? Your founder story — a well-crafted piece of narrative from your past.Let me show you. Rahul, a clean-tech founder, came to me with this pitch about himself:

“I’m an electrical engineer by training, with an MBA from Oxford. I worked as a systems engineer at Samsung, where I developed 3G technologies. I held senior management roles at various telcos, using technology to solve business problems. I’m passionate about building great teams, scaling businesses, and bringing digital products to market.”

Impressive, for sure. But it doesn’t tell us why he’s taking on the problem. So we dug deeper. After an hour of talking, we found a story and I wrote a draft:

"Fifteen years ago I moved from Delhi to Europe for a job at Samsung. I wrote software that ran on 100,000 cell towers around the world, enabling wireless communication today.Then a few years ago, my wife and I started to take our young kids to my parents back home for Diwali, the most important holiday for Indians.The problem is my daughter has asthma. And Delhi’s air quality during Diwali is some of the worst in the world. So between the fireworks and smog, she could barely breathe. I tried everything, masks, air purifiers - nothing helped.It got so bad, we had to stop visiting my parents during the holidays. Diwali became a Zoom call. And for my kids celebrating with their grandparents in person is a thing of the past. For me as a father that’s heartbreaking.Right then I realized climate change wasn’t some far-off problem. It was personal. It was literally choking my family. And I knew I couldn’t stand by anymore. So I quit my high-paying telco job and started CleanAir."

Can you see how this is more powerful than a CV?Now you know Rahul’s WHY. And you know he’s not going to throw in the towel. More than that, he’ll do everything in his power to make the air his daughter breathes cleaner.It killed with investors. That’s the power of a Billion $ Founder Story.It makes VCs go from “Why am I here?” to “Tell me more.” The arms uncross, the face softens, and suddenly, they’re the ones trying to pull your vision out of you. Now, you’ve got them.Here’s how to craft your own founder story:

It needs to be real. You can fake it but it’s shady, and people will sniff it out. The good news? You don’t have to. There’s something powerful in everybody’s past. You just need to dig it up.

Why It Works

The most important ingredient of any fundraise: Your story. Why? Because investors know that your target market, product, business model and even team will change.But your story won't. That’s what gets you the check.

Uli Kuenzel

Food for Thought

Investors bet on the jockey, not the horse.

Fast Fundraising Fix

Here’s how you turn a cold investor into a hot lead.Sean, my client (good dude, bad luck) reached out to a VC he met years ago. He sent over his deck to warm him up for his upcoming round.Unfortunately, the VC replied: “I don’t think this is a venture case. Maybe this would be best bootstrapped. But you’re a great guy, so we can jump on a call next week.”Translation: Pity meeting. AKA, business friend-zoning.Sean came to me just before he got this reply. He had maybe 5 investor meetings lined up — and no deep rolodex. Every. Meeting. Mattered.So, I gave him the kind of advice you only get from someone who’s either very wise or very unemployed: Turn down the meeting.Here’s why: If you strip fundraising down to its essence, it’s a sequence of emotions you need to trigger in investors — one leads to the next:

It’s like lighting a fire:You spark interest → fan it into excitement → feed it conviction → and then pour on FOMO.Miss a step, and the fire dies.Sean’s problem? He hadn’t sparked interest yet. And in my experience:You can't build excitement from pity.
You can't create FOMO from indifference.
You can’t flip "meh" into a million-dollar check.It’s a chain. Break it, and you're basically pushing a broken shopping cart up a gravel hill in flip-flops.Our only move? Create a spark. Pull away.Here’s what Sean sent:

“We’re not raising right now. Focused on onboarding customers and getting the product where it needs to be. But we might raise in Jan. Should I hit you up when we do?”

What happened next:An hour later, the investor replied: “Let’s meet now” and tossed in intros to two other VCs like free napkins.Why? Because Sean had changed the dynamic. He had said ‘NO’ to money. That created scarcity. And scarcity breeds interest.Did Sean take the meeting? Hell no. You don’t start a raise with five meetings. We lined up 70+ opt-ins, then ran a powerful process, flipping them into meetings all at once.Here’s what I’ve found works best:

Why It Works

VCs are humans, too. We want what we can’t have. When you say, I’m not raising, they have to know why — like a cat freaking out over a closed door.… maybe you don’t need money because revenue is exploding
… maybe a tier-one investor already locked you down
… maybe you’re the next big thingIt’s that “maybe” that keeps humans interested. So feed their imagination — and starve them of answers.

Uli Kuenzel

Food for Thought

You can attain status simply by imitating those who already have it.

Fast Fundraising Fix

I’m going to show you a trick that skyrocketed my email reply rate from investors, prospects and future partners. It’s simple and it’ll save you a lot of typing.Many moons ago, when I was a VC, I was cc’ed on an email that changed how I think about status. A prominent VC emailed Twitter's then-CEO, Dick Costolo, about a startup we were co-invested in. His message? One freakin’ line:

“Dick, you should buy these guys. — Bob”

(*name changed)I was blown away. Here was a VC, emailing the CEO of Twitter like he was texting a neighbor about borrowing a rake. In my mind, this guy went from being just another rich dude to a 10x important rich dude. Meanwhile, I was out here wondering if I needed to apologize in my Amazon return requests.If you’ve ever emailed a CEO of a larger company, you’ll know this: many of them communicate this way. No pleasantries. No fluff. Casual, to the point, oozing confidence.When I first read that email, I felt weird about how impressed I was. It’s just an email. Relax, brain. But then I remembered a story about Cary Grant, one of the biggest movie stars of the 20th century. The guy your grandma probably wanted to climb like a tree.Grant wasn’t born into the high-status, suave persona he played on screen. He was a poor kid from Bristol (England). His father was an alcoholic factory worker and his mother was a clinically depressed seamstress.But Grant was clever. When he got to Hollywood, he started mimicking high-status men to get roles. Actors, directors, studio moguls. How they stroll into a room, how they tilt their heads when they talk, how they blink when they’ve got important secrets behind their eyelids. He swiped it all.The result? He became an icon, cast in the biggest roles of his time.That made me realize that status isn’t just about who you are — it’s about how you show up.I thought, why not do the same when writing emails? So I copied the style in which CEOs and prominent investors write. And guess what? It worked like a hot dang.It's simple:

Next time you write to an investor — whether it’s a cold email, follow-up or a simple reply — communicate like a high-status founder. And your inbox will go ding ding ding.Let me show you how it’s done "cracks knuckles"An investor had ghosted my clients for 4 months. So I wrote a short, casual, no-fluff follow-up. Within two hours: a reply. Two days later: a $500,000 check.Here’s the before and after with the exact copy I wrote and the psychology at play.This sh*t works.

Why It Works

Investors form impressions fast.A short, confident email makes you seem like someone who doesn’t need their approval but deserves their attention. It’ll feel cringe at first. Rude even. But try it. People actually like it when you take a shot like this. Next thing you know, replies. Like, lots of them.

Uli Kuenzel

Food for Thought

If investors don’t understand your pitch, they won’t think your startup is some genius mystery. They’ll think it’s lame. But they won’t tell you that. They’ll smile, nod, and ghost you like a bad Tinder date.

Fast Fundraising Fix

I hear confusing pitches all the time. Maybe yours is too. And it’s not even your fault. Because when you know something too well, you forget what it’s like not to know it.So here’s a 5-minute trick to instantly make your pitch 5x clearer. Sounds like clickbait, I know. But stay with me.My first investor meeting was a trainwreck.I was pitching an angel investor I’d known for years. He liked me and the meeting felt like a formality. I’d spent the last four weeks doing about 13 iterations of my deck and felt ready.He was all smiles when I started. But about three minutes in, his face changed. He was squinting, eyebrows squished together, and glancing around. Something was wrong.I was certain it wasn’t going well when he asked “Wait. So this is a SaaS business?”Narrator: It wasn’t a SaaS business.I tried to clarify but somehow made it worse. Drowning the poor guy in jargon and tangents.Surprisingly, he didn’t interrupt again. He just sat there with a friendly expression, said some nice things… then left.Unsurprisingly, he didn't invest.I was miserable. That angel was as close to a sure thing as it gets. And I blew it. I didn’t just lose an investor. I lost a month of work, potential warm intros, and a bit of my co-founder’s respect.But his question told me one thing: He didn’t get it. And that was my fault.So I went down a pitch rabbit hole and discovered an interesting concept: Reading level.Turns out that if you write/speak at a lower reading level, the things you say are easier to understand. Who knew? (Everyone. Everyone knew.)And yeah, some folks are already doing this:

They all stick to middle school reading levels. Because if you deliver something simply people don’t think it’s simple, they think it makes sense.I got obsessed with it.This email is written at a 3rd-grade reading level. So if you think it’s crap then that’s probably for different reasons.My fumbled investor meeting also made me realize that if investors don’t understand what your startup does, they won’t ask curious questions. They assume it’s lame, smile politely, and move on.Think about it — A high-schooler who has trouble understanding basic math doesn’t marvel at the incomprehensible beauty of arithmetic. Naw. He thinks math sucks.So here’s my 3-step hack to get your pitch from cloudy to clear in 5 minutes:

Why It Works

Confused investors don't write checks. If your pitch is easy to understand, more investors will get it. Even expert investors will like it more because it takes less mental energy for them to consume. And they’ll appreciate you for it. Possibly with money.

Uli Kuenzel