FROM MY DESK
The Hunting Season
The founding-customer offer. Before you talk to anyone, build the thing you’re offering, and it is not a discount. It’s a trade with a name. Full effort at a founding price, in exchange for three things: honest feedback on a schedule, permission to use the results and their words once you’ve earned them, and a little grace while you sharpen the edges. Call it what it is: a founding customer. Names matter more than beginners think. People join founding things. They merely buy discounted ones.
The list of twenty. Not twenty friends. Twenty people who either have the problem you solve or stand next to someone who does. Former coworkers and old bosses. The trade one step upstream of you and one step downstream. People you’ve personally heard complain about this exact problem. The rooms, online or local, where your customer already gathers. Write real names. And if you can’t get to twenty, stop, because that’s not a marketing problem. It’s a signal you don’t actually know who your customer is yet, and it’s a gift to learn that now, at a kitchen table, for free, instead of six months from now under a pile of branding invoices.
The ask. Here’s language you can steal: "You’ve known me through X for years. I’ve started doing Y. I’m taking five founding customers this month, at a price I won’t offer again, in exchange for blunt feedback while I build this right. Is that you, or is it someone you know?" Look at the parts doing the work. It opens with a relationship, not a pitch. The scarcity is real, five and only five, because you genuinely can’t serve twenty founding customers well. The trade is stated straight, no apology. And the last line is an exit ramp: they can help you without buying, which means nobody has to dodge your calls, which means your reputation survives the no.
The founding price, never free. Charge something real. Free customers give you politeness. Paying customers give you the truth, because the truth cost them money. Then build the feedback loop you promised: fifteen minutes after delivery, three questions. What almost stopped you from saying yes? What surprised you once we started? Who else do you know who needs this? That third question matters more than the first two. Your first list of twenty came from your memory. Every list after that should come from your customers’ mouths.
When marketing actually starts. Customer eleven, give or take. Because by then you own three things no agency can sell you...
- Proof that people will pay real money for what you offer.
- The exact words customers use to explain why they bought, which becomes your ad copy, written for free.
- A pattern of who says yes fastest, which becomes your targeting.
That is when marketing can finally do its job: amplify what you already know works.
Now, if you’re twenty years in and reading this with a smile, don’t file it under nostalgia. Your next product, your next location, your next service line: every one of them is sitting at customer zero, and the rules haven’t changed. Companies forget this at scale. They launch the new thing with a budget instead of twenty conversations, then hold a meeting to figure out why something with great branding and no hunting is dying. And here’s the quiet enterprise value angle: a company that knows how to hunt has a repeatable, teachable growth skill on the shelf. A company that only knows how to spend has a payroll line. Buyers can tell the difference from across the room.
P.S. Remember: marketing is amplification. Use it after you know what works, and it compounds. Use it before you do, and you’re paying to broadcast a guess.