The night before launching

I’ve been here more times than I can count.

The final days before inviting the very first people to take out their credit card and pay for a product I’ve been painstakingly crafting for months.

And I’m utterly convinced nobody will buy. No matter how low I price it. No matter how many people messaged me (repeatedly) “When can I buy this?”—to which I replied, “Soon! Just one more thing…”

The reality? Every product I’ve ever launched has attracted at least some buyers. But somehow, I know—with irrational certainty!—that this will be the one that launches to crickets.

What is that? Probably some kind of self-protection against getting my hopes up. Whatever it is, it’s very real. Even after 18 years in business.

Just another product

It took me a while to come to terms with the reality that most—maybe all—of the products I ever launch will be “just another product.”

No home runs. No rocket ships. No hockey sticks.

Just another in a long line of products that attracts a short-lived wave of first customers, then a slow, steady trickle over time. A sturdy brick in my portfolio—not a whole new house.

I’m OK with that. In fact, I like it. I'm decidedly not “all in” on any one product. I’ve tried that mindset on. It didn’t fit. It led to uncomfortable levels of risk, stress, and crushed hopes.

I’d much rather embrace the expectation that my next product will simply be another one. That’s all I want it to be—a product crafted with integrity, worth its price, and one I’m happy to support for a long time to come.

The case for launching a “complete” product

I still carry some leftover baggage from having the "MVP" mindset drilled into me—and everyone else in startup-land.

During the pre-launch building phase, I’m constantly nagged by a frustration that I’m spending too much time perfecting a product that hasn’t proven itself with paying customers.

“Just one more thing” was one too many 10 things ago. Yet here I am, building that extra feature anyway—knowing full well it isn’t essential for this product to be “minimally viable.”

This is where I take issue with the MVP mindset: It assumes my product is only worth my time if it shows signs of becoming a home run. So I should be OK with shipping something half-baked, just to see if some early adopter-types are willing to pay. Then—and only then—I'll earn permission to go back and build the version I’m actually proud of.

Well, that’s not for me.

I don’t want to circle back. I want to ship the thing I'm building—and ship it with integrity.

I assume this next product won’t be my swan song. So my goal is to build and ship something as complete as I can reasonably make it, so that it earns the right to move into its “productively coasting” phase without regret.

“Coasting” productively

Most of my products have the good fortune of living on in a “productively coasting” state.

It's a healthy hybrid where customers are well supported and I’m free to dip in and out of working on this product, with full optionality to decide where to deploy my focus and creative energy.

My productively coasting products might see me dip in a morning or two each week. Or they get my 100% focus for a week or three. Or I can go many weeks without touching it—letting its systems (and teammates) keep things running while I'm working on my next product.

Now, if I were playing the "all-in" game on a single product, hoping it will defining my next decade, then I’d be doubling-down relentlessly, on the assumption that it should grow at a fast enough rate without being blown off course by headwinds that are out of my control.

I prefer to maintain my optionality.

I’ve proven that my products can live productive lives without demanding my every-hour-of-every-day attention.

Here's how:

I never let customers go unsupported:

• I respond personally to every support email. Even with moderate volume, this might only take a morning or two per week. As my priorities shift, a very capable teammate often steps in to free me up.

• I invest in documentation and UX that help customers help themselves. You’d be amazed how much this reduces support load.

I iterate and improve my products on my terms:

• High volumes of customer feedback often inspire me to problem-solve and actively iterate on feature development.

• Lower volume? That might mean customers are quietly happy—or there just aren’t many of them. Either way, it’s often a good time to shift my energy elsewhere. I can always return during a future season.

Bootstrapping in Seasons

Since I’m embracing a bootstrapped portfolio approach to my business, I find it helpful to think and work in seasons. Each season can vary from a few weeks, to a quarter or two, and each can look and feel quite different.

In any given season, I'm working on one (or all) of these:

• I'm Iterating on an existing product—with a goal of helping it grow faster.

• I'm managing, delegating, and/or automating a product—with a goal of removing myself while keeping customers supported.

• I'm building a new product—with a goal of creating another asset.

Tomorrow I launch my newest product, marking the end of my most recent season and the start of my next one.

Happy Spring.