Profit First: Transform Your Business from a Cash-Eating Monster to a Money-Making Machine (Entrepreneurship Simplified) - Hardcover

Buch 3 von 6: Entrepreneurship Simplified

Michalowicz, Mike

 
9780735214149: Profit First: Transform Your Business from a Cash-Eating Monster to a Money-Making Machine (Entrepreneurship Simplified)

Inhaltsangabe

Author of cult classics The Pumpkin Plan and The Toilet Paper Entrepreneur offers a simple, counterintuitive cash management solution that will help small businesses break out of the doom spiral and achieve instant profitability.

Conventional accounting uses the logical (albeit, flawed) formula: Sales - Expenses = Profit. The problem is, businesses are run by humans, and humans aren't always logical. Serial entrepreneur Mike Michalowicz has developed a behavioral approach to accounting to flip the formula: Sales - Profit = Expenses. Just as the most effective weight loss strategy is to limit portions by using smaller plates, Michalowicz shows that by taking profit first and apportioning only what remains for expenses, entrepreneurs will transform their businesses from cash-eating monsters to profitable cash cows. Using Michalowicz's Profit First system, readers will learn that:

· Following 4 simple principles can simplify accounting and make it easier to manage a profitable business by looking at bank account balances.
· A small, profitable business can be worth much more than a large business surviving on its top line.
· Businesses that attain early and sustained profitability have a better shot at achieving long-term growth.

With dozens of case studies, practical, step-by-step advice, and his signature sense of humor, Michalowicz has the game-changing roadmap for any entrepreneur to make money they always dreamed of.

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Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

MIKE MICHALOWICZ launched and sold two multi-million dollar companies and is co-founder of Profit First Professionals, a membership organization of accountants, bookkeepers and business coaches who teach the Profit First method. He is a former columnist for The Wall Street Journal, is a popular speaker and has shared his insights on business and entrepreneurship at TEDx, creativeLIVE, INCmty and others. He is the author of The Pumpkin Plan and The Toilet Paper Entrepreneur. His columns have appeared in Entrepreneur Magazine, Open Forum, and Harvard Business Review.

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Chapter 1

Your Business Is an Out-of-Control Cash-Eating Monster

No matter how many years you've been at the grind, you are probably well aware of the statistic that roughly 50 percent of businesses fail within the first five years. What they don't tell you is that those failed entrepreneurs are, in fact, the lucky ones! The majority of the businesses that survive are racking up debt, and their leaders are perpetually stressed. Most entrepreneurs are living a financial nightmare, one that's populated by Freddy Krueger or Frankenstein's monster in its raw, unadulterated scariness. In fact, I am convinced that I am Dr. Frankenstein.

If you read Mary Shelley's classic, Frankenstein, you know exactly what I'm talking about. The good doctor reanimated life. From mismatched body parts, he stitched together a living being more monster than man. Of course his creation wasn't a monster at first. No, at first it was a miracle. Dr. Frankenstein brought to life something that, without his extraordinary idea and exhaustive hard work, could not exist.

That's what I did. That's what you did. We brought something to life that didn't exist before we dreamed it up; we created a business out of thin air. Impressive! Miraculous! Beautiful! Or at least it was until we realized our creation was actually a monster.

Stitching together a business with nothing but a great idea, your unique talents, and whatever few resources you have at hand is most certainly a miracle. And it feels like one, too, until the day you realize your business has become a giant, scary, soul-sucking, cash-eating monster. That's the day you discover that you, too, are an esteemed member of the Frankenstein family.

And just as happened in Shelley's book, mental and physical torment ensues. You try to tame the monster, but you can't. The monster wreaks destruction at every turn: empty bank accounts, credit card debt, loans, and an ever-increasing list of "must-pay" expenses. He eats up your time, too. You wake up before sunrise to work, and you're still at it long after the sun goes down. You work and work, yet the monster continues to loom. Your relentless work doesn't free you; it further drains you. Trying to keep the monster at bay before it destroys your entire world is exhausting. You suffer sleepless nights, worries about collection calls-sometimes from your own employees-and a near-constant panic about how to cover next week's bills with a few dollars and the lint in your pocket. Didn't you start a business so you could be your own boss? Now it looks as though this monster is the boss of you.

If you think operating your business is closer to a horror story than to a fairy tale, you're not alone. Since I wrote my first book, The Toilet Paper Entrepreneur, I've met tens of thousands of entrepreneurs; and let me tell you, most are struggling to tame the beast that is their business. Many companies-even those that appear to have it all together, even the big guys who seem to dominate their industries-are one bad month away from total collapse.

My own wake-up call came in the form of my daughter's piggy bank.

The Piggy Bank That Changed My Life

I lost my way the day I received a check for $388,000. It was the first of several checks I would receive for the sale of my second company-a multimillion-dollar computer forensic investigations business I had cofounded-to a Fortune 500 firm. I had now built and sold two companies, and that check was all the proof I needed that my friends and family were right about me: When it came to growing businesses, I had the Midas touch.

The day I received the check, I bought three cars: a Dodge Viper (my college-fantasy dream car, and what I have subsequently found many people identify as the "that-guy-must-have-a-tiny-penis" car), something I'd promised I would get for myself "one day" when I'd "made it," a Land Rover for my wife, and a spare-a tricked-out BMW.

I had always believed in frugality, but now I was rich (with an ego to match). I joined the private club: the one where, the more money you give, the higher they place your name on the members' wall. And I rented a house on a remote Hawaiian island so my wife, my children, and I could spend the next three or so weeks experiencing what our new lifestyle would be like. You know, "how the other half lives."

I thought it was time to revel in the money I had created. What I didn't know was that I was about to learn the difference between making money (income) and taking money (profit). These are two very, very different things.

I launched my first business on ambition and air, sleeping in my car or under conference room tables in order to avoid the cost of hotels when visiting clients. So imagine the surprised look from my wife, Krista, when I asked the sales guy at the dealership for "the most expensive Land Rover you have." Not the best Land Rover. Not the safest Land Rover. The most expensive Land Rover. He skipped his way to the manager, doing a giddy hand clap.

Krista looked at me and said, "Have you lost your mind? Can we really afford this?"

Full of snark, I said, "Can we afford it? We have more money than God." I will never forget the stupidity coming out of my mouth that day; such disgusting words, such a disgusting ego. Krista was right. I had lost my mind-and, at least for the moment, my soul.

That day was the beginning of the end. I was well on my way to discovering that while I knew how to make millions, what I was really, really proficient at was losing millions.

It wasn't just the lifestyle I bought into that caused my financial downfall-the trappings of success were a symptom of my arrogance-I believed in my own mythology. I was King Midas reinvented. I could do no wrong. And because I had the golden touch and knew how to build successful businesses, I decided that investing in a dozen brand-new start-ups was the best way to use my windfall. After all, it was only a matter of time before my entrepreneurial genius rubbed off on these promising companies.

Did I care whether the founders of these companies knew what they were doing? No-I had all the answers (read that with a massive douche emphasis). I assumed that my golden touch would more than compensate for their lack of business expertise. I hired a team to manage the infrastructure of all these start-ups-accounting, marketing, social media, Web design. I was sure I had the formula for success: a promising start-up; the infrastructure; and my incredible, superior magic touch (more douche emphasis).

Then, I started writing checks-$5,000 to one person, $10,000 to another, every month more checks, and still more. One time, I cut a check for $50,000 to cover expenses for one of these companies. I was focused on one thing and one thing only: growth. Mindlessly throwing money at start-up companies wasn't even in alignment with my values about money; I was a bootstrapper and proud of it. Still, I was blind to my mistakes. I was all pump and dump. Grow the businesses, then sell them. In retrospect, it was clear that I would not be able to grow all of these companies to the point where they would eventually become niche authorities, as I had with my two previous companies. There was never enough revenue to cover the ever-increasing mountain of bills.

Because of my massive ego, I didn't...

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