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Express Delivery

realbusiness.com The Traditionalist After years of cautiously building a business by the book, Accuship’s Mason Kauffman pulls out all the stops in a race to rule the online logistics market Company: Accuship Inc., in Germantown, Tenn. What it does: Lets companies compare various shippers’ services and prices online; processes and tracks delivery orders; handles billing and service auditing, accounting, and payment Number of employees: 100 Conventional wisdom: Who needs an intermediary on the self-service Web? Unconventional wisdom: Middlemen like Accuship can thrive online; who doesn’t need a one-stop spot for shipping options? Revenue growth: From $18,000 in 1994 to $3 million in 2000; $9.7 million projected for 2001 Profit profile: 2% in first year; highest percentage profit, 21%, in 1997; planned loss in 2000; projects 20% profitability for second half of 2001 Capital: Start-up investment of $100 in personal funds; founder took no salary for first year; $7.6 million in one round of private funding in 2000 It’s been nearly 25 years, but Mason C. Kauffman still remembers the first pearl of wisdom he ever got from Federal Express founder Fred Smith. “He said, ‘If you want to create a business, go to a party and listen. You’ll hear people complain,” Kauffman recalls the legendary entrepreneur telling his University of Memphis M.B.A. class back in the mid 1970s. Every complaint, Smith said, equals a need, a problem, a vacuum. Meet it, solve it, fill it — and there’s your business. After graduating, Kauffman signed on with Federal Express, where he spent 16 years in sales, operations, engineering, and information-management jobs. He learned plenty about Smith’s approach to the shipping and logistics business. But at 40, when Kauffman yearned to start his own company, he found himself drawn back to Smith’s advice. So he listened . And he heard complaints — lots of them — from companies seriously frustrated about every aspect of shipping: the sheer number of carriers; the broad range of services, rules, and costs; and the complex and constantly changing shipping process itself. Most businesses, Kauffman figured, could use expert guidance in finding faster, cheaper, and easier ways to ship, and account for, their parcels. So in 1994 he left his $100,000-a-year FedEx job to found Express Logistics Inc., a consulting business that helped companies streamline their shipping operations. Today the company (renamed Accuship.com in 1999 and plain Accuship late in 2000) works like a travel agent for parcels. The company provides its customers — mostly big corporations like the Coca-Cola Co., Sprint, and Home Shopping Network Inc. — with one online source for shipping and tracking (as well as optional accounting, auditing, and bill-payment services). At Accuship’s Web site, users can compare options and prices to decide whether, say, to pay one shipper’s $40 fee for delivery by 8 a.m. or another’s $8.75 charge to get the package there by 3 p.m. They can also arrange for same-day couriers, print labels, track deliveries, and check invoices — all online. Accuship takes a flat monthly fee or charges per transaction; the company’s share works out to 20% to 50% of its customers’ savings on shipping costs. In many ways, Accuship is a virtual company. Because it doesn’t do the actual shipping, it owns no planes, trucks, or warehouses. And all transactions — about 850,000 a day, worth a daily average of $5 million — have always been electronic, initially through electronic-data interchange and more recently over the Web as well. But in several key ways, the company seems more rooted in the old economy than in the new. First, at age seven, Accuship is, by Internet standards, a granddaddy. Unlike most of its dot-com brethren, it’s been at least slightly profitable for much of its life (ranging from 2% on revenues of just $18,000 in its first year to a high of 21% on $895,000 in 1997). In another Web-world rarity, Kauffman started Accuship with his own savings and didn’t receive any outside funding until the business was six years old. He worked alone in the attic of his home for the first year, taking no salary. After that, he built his staff slowly, making sure he had new accounts in the pipeline before he hired people and funding expansion through cash flow. Finally, even at the height of the Internet inferno, he hired no dot-com executives and imported no one from Silicon Valley. But even Kauffman will admit that the company’s more recent financial picture would raise eyebrows at any traditional business. First, Accuship lost money last year even as revenues increased 36%, reaching $3 million. (Kauffman emphasizes that 2000 was “a planned-loss year” because of major technology and staffing expenditures.) And the company turned to outside investors for the first time, receiving $7.6 million in a single round of private funding in May 2000, two months after its sixth birthday. But, again unlike many other dot-com CEOs, Kauffman expects to recoup his investment quickly and says he’s on track for 20% profitability for the second half of this year. Kauffman funded the company’s expansion through cash flow and made sure that he had new accounts before he hired people. The capital infusion is part of Kauffman’s plan to make Accuship the biggest player in its field this year, adding new Fortune 1,000 clients and expanding to new countries every week. To that end, Kauffman invested heavily in the company’s staff, technology, and Web site in 2000. All those changes represent a marked departure from the CEO’s earlier mantra of growing cautiously. Why so aggressive, and why now? “Timing,” Kauffman says. In the past year, most Fortune 1,000 companies have gotten enough bandwidth — and enough confidence about data security — to feel comfortable about handling internal business on the Web. At the same time, with the economy contracting, many companies have scrutinized expenses and discovered that they have been literally wasting a fortune on shipping. By mid-2001, “somebody will lead this market,” Kauffman says. He’d like it to be his company. So that made 2000 just the right time to invest in the fuel needed to propel Accuship to the top of the heap. And an impressive heap it is: online logistics, currently a $42-billion market, could reach $274 billion by 2004, according to Bear Stearns & Co. In fact, electronic logistics “will ultimately determine which old- and new-economy companies will survive and prosper and which companies will fail in their ability to distribute their product and services to an increasingly ‘plugged-in’ marketplace,” Bear Stearns analysts wrote in a June 2000 report on the industry. Bear Stearns praised Accuship in particular for its exclusive business-to-business focus and its customer roster, which includes names like Verizon Communications and Reebok International Ltd. “If Accuship continues to demonstrate shipping savings for such large companies, its customer list could grow substantially,” analysts wrote in the report. Accuship also won top marks from Armstrong & Associates, a logistics consulting firm in Stoughton, Wis. In a 2000 report titled Who’s Who in Logistics Web Sites, the consultants gave Accuship an A, its highest rating, which indicated that the company had “a high probability of survival,” says company vice-president Evan Armstrong. The firm based its rating on Kauffman’s FedEx background, his strong management team, his ability to get funding, and his company’s powerful Web site. Also, Armstrong says of Accuship, “they have a solid customer base, they have a real revenue stream, and if they do need additional funding, they’re likely to get it.” Kauffman says that as he expands his customer list, he doesn’t want to do it all at once. “This year is going to be a very big one for us,” he predicts. “But growth can kill companies. So I’m reminding everyone that we can’t be in every country tomorrow and we can’t be in every company tomorrow. Timing is everything.” Anne Stuart is a senior writer at Inc. Technology. With no fanfare and little venture money, the companies profiled here are delivering real stuff to paying customers and making a buck in the process. There may not be any “new rules,” but there are rules, and we suspect every one of them will look familiar. DVD Empire: The Bootstrapper SitStay.com: The Mom-and-Pop Shoebuy.com: The Scorekeepers Accuship.com: The Traditionalist Fashionmall.com: The Conservative Healthcommunities.com: The Underwriter Commentary E-tailing Intermediaries The Markets Please e-mail your comments to editors@inc.com.

Vera Goes Digital

Road Warrior Our road warrior test-drives the latest in digital personal assistants. The bottom line: don’t fire your secretary yet In movies from the 1940s and 1950s, you can tell a corporate titan by his secretary. This woman had to do much more than type and file; she was an extension of her boss’s will, a personal assistant paid to drop everything and attend to his every need. “Vera, get me the latest figures on borax futures,” he would command. Barely had Vera reappeared at her desk, pencil in mouth, arms loaded down with manila folders, when her boss would be back on the intercom: “Vera, have a dozen roses delivered to my wife.” “Vera, make lunch reservations for two at Delmonico’s.” “Vera, get me Smithers on the line.” That last one always killed me: here was a man too busy to flip through his address book and dial the telephone. You hated him, and yet you envied him. What must it be like to have someone at your beck and call like that? I’ll be able to tell you shortly. I recently signed up with Quixi, a sort of digital secretary for busy travelers. For about $20 a month, I can pick up my cell phone, press a rapid-dial key, and bark my wishes to a Quixi “helper.” The helpers can tell me, say, how to get back to the airport from my hotel. They can charge flowers to my credit card and have them delivered. They’ll also do “M-commerce” (the M standing for mobile) Web searches for whatever I absolutely must have, ASAP. To date, Quixi subscribers’ M-commerce requests have ranged from the sublime (a 1985 Bordeaux) to the ridiculous (a desktop dartboard). Best of all, I can say, “Get me Smithers on the line,” and lo and behold, they get him. In the age of cellular phones, getting Smithers on the line has become less a matter of status than of convenience, not to mention safety. When I’m driving 70 mph down the freeway, I don’t want to be rummaging through my briefcase for my PalmPilot or the file containing Smithers’s phone number. How does the Quixi helper know Smithers’s phone number? Because when you signed up for the service, you downloaded Quixi software that enabled you to electronically dispatch the contents of your address book — be it on a Palm device or in an E-mail program such as Outlook Express — to Quixi’s virtual switchboard. Keeping the listings up-to-date is a simple matter of clicking on the Quixi icon on your cell phone’s screen and then clicking Synchronize, whereupon any new names and numbers are sent, through the Internet, to Quixi. (The process is similar for users with PDAs and contact-management software.) I tried out my personal assistant last week, en route to a backpacking trip in the mountains with my husband, Ed. In the course of our meandering conversations, we came up with a list of things we wanted to know right then and there, our own version of borax futures: What percentage of one’s body weight should a backpack weigh? What is the highest elevation from which a human being has jumped from a plane into the ocean and survived? Why was Password host Allen Ludden buried in Mineral Point, Wis.? I started with the last one and contacted Quixi. The clicking sounds of someone typing on a keyboard could be heard in the background. I imagined my helper whizzing around the Web, scanning Allen Ludden fan sites. Finally, she said, “We can’t call anyone that’s not on your contact list.” Apparently, she had been searching my contact list for Allen Ludden (or perhaps Betty White — who knows?). It turned out that, aside from taking M-commerce requests, Quixi wouldn’t do anything on the Web for you. It was as if Vera, when asked for the borax figures, had looked up from her typewriter and said, “Get it yourself.” Undaunted, we then asked for directions. “Ask them where the closest Dairy Queen is,” suggested Ed. Ed has a soft spot for soft serve. “Tell them we’re on 580 East, somewhere before Modesto.” Aside from taking M-commerce requests, Quixi wouldn’t do anything on the Web. It was as if Vera had looked up from her typewriter and said, “Get it yourself.” My helper said it would take from one to four hours to get back to us with directions of any kind. Ed looked glum. One to four hours was a long time to wait for an ice-cream cone. The helper explained that Quixi could not yet provide real-time directions, only pretrip directions. The real-time program is in its pilot phase, and apparently the pilot is still flying paper airplanes in the backyard. Quixi plans to be real-time-ready by early 2001. But you may be able to do Quixi one better before then. More and more cars and SUVs are being outfitted with helper systems, consisting of a built-in global positioning system (GPS) and a cellular connection to a 24-hour adviser. General Motors Corp. has 32 different cars outfitted with such an adviser, called the OnStar system. With it, drivers press a button and ask a live adviser for what they want. Using the car’s GPS, the adviser will be able to locate drivers on the road and provide them with real-time directions, heard over the car’s stereo speakers. The adviser can also make reservations, and an OnStar concierge will book same-day tickets for popular shows. Starting next month, the 2001 GM line will come with the option of a voice-activated cell-phone and Internet connection, called the OnStar Virtual Advisor. The service enables drivers to talk on a cell-phone connection hands-free. In place of Vera at her desk in the next room, there’s a microphone hidden in the car’s ceiling or in the rearview mirror. At the push of a button, a voice prompts you for a phone number, which you tell to your mirror, feeling only mildly silly, and then the number is dialed for you. And voilÃ, Smithers is on the line — or rather, on your car speakers. There’s even a text-to-speech engine in the system that will, at your command, translate E-mail into a digitized voice and read it aloud to you while you drive. Somewhere past Modesto, I wanted to call my editor to ask whether maybe we should be doing a column on the 2001 GM line instead. I pressed my Quixi speed-dial number. “Get me Elaine Appleton Grant on the line,” I said. My helper couldn’t find the name. “When did you insert that name, ma’am?” she asked. “Because it can take up to 24 hours to show up.” “I synchronized my contact list on Monday,” I said, sounding very James Bond. It was now Wednesday. “Hunh,” she said. Then she said that in fact none of my contacts were coming up on her screen. I asked to speak to Quixi’s public relations man, Alex Pachetti, and ruin his day. “There’s no Alex here,” said my helper. “Maybe he’s in the New York office.” “Could you put me through?” “Of course,” she said helpfully. “What’s his number?” “I don’t have his number.” My voice was beginning to take on a certain strident edge. “I left his number at home because I thought I had this wonderful new service whereby I could just press a button and get Alex Pachetti on the phone.” “You do have that service,” she said brightly. “There just aren’t any listings coming up for you.” I turned to my rearview mirror. “Can you believe this?” As it turned out, I’d been sent the wrong version of Quixi’s software, and my contact list had failed to upload. I installed the new version the day my husband and I got back from our trip. The next afternoon, driving home from work, I pressed the Quixi speed-dial on my phone. “Get me Smithers on the line,” I said. Under the name Smithers in my address book, I had entered my husband’s phone number. “Mr. Smithers for you,” said the woman promptly and courteously. It was worth 20 bucks. When she’s in her office, new Road Warrior Mary Roach can be reached at roach@sfgrotto.org. Please e-mail your comments to editors@inc.com.

Got Money?

Ed Palmer might not think of himself as a pioneer. But he’s among the first wave of company builders to look for investors on the Internet without a middleman Ed Palmer is at his desk, bracketed by two Macs, poring over the number of hits received by the various components of his business’s Web site. The company’s only other full-time employee is a cubicle away, dashing off a string of E-mail notes from his computer. This could be almost any Web start-up, if it weren’t for the company’s only other room–a storage room across the hall–one that should be filled with humming servers and blinking modems. Instead, the room turns out to be littered with crates, pallets, and ungainly mechanical devices–an inventory of actual things. Palmer’s company, SolarAttic Inc., is not a flash-fire Silicon Valley Web start-up but a conventional small company in a Minneapolis suburb that has been engaged in a gritty, 13-year struggle to score with products that could at best be called medium-tech. What especially distinguishes SolarAttic from the typical Internet business is that despite the fact that sales have been taking off, venture capitalists, angels, and other investors have not been lining up to hurl money at the company to propel it into the next stage. As a result, Palmer has modified SolarAttic’s growth strategy to include an on-line wrinkle so cutting edge that few Web businesses have dared to try it. Namely, the company is trying to go public by finding its own $1,000-here, $500-there investors over the Internet. No investment banks, no brokers. The realization of ultra-low-cost, wide-open stock offerings–a pure, frictionless transfer of money from the public to a company–may ultimately become one of the most powerful applications of the Internet. It’s turbocapitalism: for ordinary investors, a chance to get in on the ground floor of even tiny, distant, or obscure companies; for underfunded, non-Web start-ups, an opportunity to get their story out to people who might be willing to take a modest gamble. Dozens of companies have already altered the conventional model of fund-raising to take advantage of the Internet’s reach and efficiency. But surprisingly few companies have tried to go all the way and strip their efforts down to a simple on-line proposition: send me money and I’ll give you a piece of my company. SolarAttic, as unlikely a high-tech pioneer as it may be, is one of them. The results have not been entirely pretty. Despite garnering a small sea of leads, the flow of actual on-line investment in the company has barely reached the level of a trickle. Among the challenges the company continues to face: getting the right people to its site, differentiating its offer from those of con artists, and slogging through a morass of state regulations. But SolarAttic is forging ahead, learning what works and what doesn’t as it goes along. As the company embarks on its third public offering–the second that is based on the Web–Palmer offers a simple explanation for why he keeps at it: he is convinced, as are many others, that this is just too good an idea to ultimately not work. Anyone who has ever climbed into an attic on a sunny day can appreciate the basic idea behind SolarAttic. Heat gets trapped up there. Why not put it to work? Palmer, for one, cannot abide the fact that energy is literally floating around the tops of homes while their owners pay good money for heat in other forms. Call it an engineer’s disdain for the inefficient. Palmer worked on guided-missile-system computers for the navy and later on civilian computers, before a friend’s offhand remark 16 years ago changed his life. The English, said the friend, often keep their water heaters in their attics not only for the pressure gain that gravity provides but also for the free temperature boost. Never mind that the English also eat meat in pies and beat one another up at sports events. Free energy was a good thing, Palmer declared, and worth following up on. Two years later, with salaried life permanently behind him, Palmer began his attic-heat-tapping experiments–ultimately taking over nearly two-thirds of the floor space in his Elk River, Minn., home, including the entire basement and garage. The goal: to figure out a way to transfer the heat to piped-in water that could then be pushed into a swimming pool. Since he didn’t own a pool, he set up a 125-gallon horse trough in the garage; to compensate for Minnesota’s frequent dearth of sunlight, he set up electric heaters in the attic to provide heat that he could then get rid of. His efforts fell short until he hit on the missing ingredient: a fan to blow the hot attic air over his boxed-in network of thin piping. Unfortunately, having a good product concept and moving a good product are two different things. At the rate Palmer was going, he had already run through his savings; he and his wife were living on $12,000 a year, mostly borrowed, and his wife was doing all their home maintenance and repair work. He went to a venture capitalist and was told to come back after he sold the first 100 systems. He went looking for angels but found himself in a geographical bind: investors based in mostly chilly Minnesota couldn’t relate to the pool market in general and to a solar-dependent product in particular; investors in warmer climes were not interested in a company that was so far away. He kept plugging away. “If you lose faith, that’s when things start to unfold on you,” he says. Finally, in 1986, Palmer wrote up a list of just about everyone he had ever known and sent roughly 700 of them a letter asking them to invest, valuing the company at $1 million. He was even willing to trade away majority ownership of the company if he could raise that much, since he figured he could exercise effective control with a concentrated 20% of the stock. In any case he raised a nonthreatening but badly needed $50,000. Palmer’s first sale wouldn’t come for three more years. In 1989 he finally sold a pool heater–to a reseller in Florida–for $1,600. And the feedback from that first sale was extremely promising. After performing a test, the customer reported that his pool’s water temperature had risen by 20 degrees to 98 degrees Fahrenheit. Even better, as the temperature in the pool went up, the customer’s energy costs to heat the pool went down. Typically, pool owners have reported costs as high as $300 per month to heat their swimming pools. By contrast, Palmer’s heater costs about $11 a month to operate, treating pool owners to a “warm pool without hot bills,” as Palmer puts it. Heating pools is not a quirky endeavor. According to Palmer, it is a $200-million annual market, based on the number and retail cost of pool heaters being sold. By the early 1990s, Palmer started thinking seriously about going public. It wasn’t grandiosity; he had simply recognized that the SEC had lowered the bar for small-company securities offerings a few years before by creating the small-corporate-offering registration, or SCOR, and so-called Regulation A offerings, both of which require no or minimal scrutiny from the SEC. Subject to state regulation, companies can raise up to $1 million in a 12-month period with a SCOR, or $5 million with a Regulation A offering. Palmer talked to brokers, but none were interested in taking part in offerings below $10 million (Palmer’s was less than $5 million) and the correspondingly small fees that their 10% commission would generate. No problem, he thought. He’d do it the way he had done everything else: on his own. In 1994, Palmer filed for a $1.5-million-minimum and $3-million-maximum Regulation A offering in Minnesota, and was promptly blindsided by state regulators, who told him he had only 180 days to raise the money–even though there was no such rule on the Minnesota books. Palmer eventually resolved the matter with state regulators, but the fight had been so time-consuming that the offering languished and ultimately fell short, necessitating the return of the $250,000 he had raised and placed into escrow. But Palmer walked away with a list of 1,000 interested investors, and to a few of them he sent a letter offering a private placement at a 20% discount from the public offering price, which generated $125,000. Two years later Palmer figured it couldn’t hurt to put up a Web site that provided sales and technical information about his company. It wasn’t long after the site’s debut that he realized the Web could be a big selling tool for SolarAttic. “People used to call about a product and ask something like, ‘What’s the PCS1?” notes Jim Stanley, Palmer’s half-brother and SolarAttic’s vice-president of sales and marketing. “Now they download the technical manual first, and then call and say, ‘Here’s my credit-card number.” By mid-1997, the site was pulling in as many as 40,000 hits a month (and it now pulls in roughly 100,000 a month). That was the good news. The bad news was that the company was now generating far more leads and opportunities than Palmer and Stanley could handle. Ultimately, Palmer wanted to hire more people–and he figured that with an expanding array of products, the potential market he could tap into could be worth as much as $10 billion. The capital requirements of that vision, combined with the fact that he was still living on fumes himself, meant that he needed another round of financing. Drawing on a heady brew of desperation, optimism, and masochism, Palmer decided to go back to the public offering well in a big way. While mulling over strategies for how to make things turn out better this time, Palmer stumbled across an article that told how Spring Street Brewing Co. had conducted a successful Regulation A initial public offering over the Internet. (See ” The Real Legacy of Spring Street Brewing.”) It all double-clicked for Palmer. To his engineer’s eye, using the Web to facilitate the transfer of small plugs of money to the stock of a small company whose potentially fabulous growth was being stunted by a lack of capital was like, well, using the PCS1 to transfer heat from a stuffy attic to a chilly pool. Three trends central to the recent evolution of our economy point to the likelihood that small investors will embrace Internet-based direct stock offerings from small companies: The small investor has become more independent of brokers and mutual-fund managers, less risk averse, and more enamored of IPOs. The Internet has gradually been greasing the gears of investment mechanisms, cutting commissions and making more investment instruments and professional-quality information about them directly available to anyone with a computer and modem. The country’s economic engine is increasingly fueled by small companies. Direct public offerings will provide opportunities far more interesting than today’s typical IPO. Currently, the vast majority of small investors are locked out of IPOs altogether, and anyone who does manage to buy in is paying not only for a piece of the company, but also for the underwriter’s 7% commission and at least 3% or so in other fees related to the costs of going public. What’s more, the companies represented by today’s high-profile IPOs have had their growth and market potential thoroughly plumbed by venture-capital and investment-banking pros; the chances that you’ll see something that everyone else has missed, and thus end up with a true bargain, are not good. Buy directly into a tiny, unsung company’s do-it-yourself Internet offering, on the other hand, and you’ve got a genuine, undiluted chance of surfing in front of a wave of growth that other investors–including the pros–haven’t spotted. Needless to say, the risks would be correspondingly high. To pick the gems out of what will likely be a field made up predominantly of losers, small investors will have to do what angels do today: apply careful analysis and good instincts. Except you won’t have to risk $50,000 or more, as you typically do today, to buy in at ground zero; $500 or so should do it. Welcome to the dawn of the micro-angel. What can small companies hoping to raise money through an Internet DPO do to connect with potential micro-angels? Unfortunately, you probably won’t learn much by examining the offerings out there today. I searched the Web using keywords and phrases like IPO, direct public offering, investors wanted, SCOR, and the like, and checked out dozens of small-business and capital-raising-related sites and bulletin boards. Of the 20 or so registered small-company stock offerings that I turned up, many appeared to be hybrids of one sort or another, depending at least as much on conventional techniques as on the Web to attract and convince investors. The bottom line: the pure Internet DPO is largely unexplored territory. On the other hand, three years from now it will probably seem like old hat, with thousands of small companies competing for investors’ attention. The ideal moment to strike will probably lie somewhere between now and then–and your guess is as good as anyone else’s. If there’s a shadow hanging over the on-line DPO market, it’s that being cast by securities fraud. Traditional stock offerings are heavily scrutinized by brokers and the SEC; typically, no one does due diligence on a DPO. DPOs that take place entirely on the Internet are ripe for con artists for the same reason that they are so appealing to legitimate companies: they are quick and cheap to set up. The SEC has charged 83 individuals and companies in the past year with Internet securities fraud, 26 of them for hawking entirely fictitious deals. Two years ago a company called Interactive Products and Services (IPS) Inc. rolled out a DPO to develop WebTV products; the offering was listed entirely on the Internet. IPS pulled in about $200,000 from small investors before California officials shut the operation down as a scam and sent its CEO to jail. Not surprisingly, con artists have figured out the kind of leverage they can achieve via the Net. In my search for offerings, I came across hundreds of bulletin-board investment solicitations in almost comically fishy-sounding ventures ranging from gold mines to magazines for “exotic models.” But only the most naïve investors would be taken in by those sorts of come-ons. On the other hand, what to make of a company like Fonecash.com? Listed on Direct Stock Market (DSM), a Web site that specializes in listing DPOs and private placements, as a developer of a credit-card-transaction-processing device, Fonecash.com is floating a $990,000 DPO. The Fonecash.com Web site consists of an “under construction” notice, and the company had not returned phone calls by press time. Another DSM-listed company, Specialized Autocore Services Inc., also failed to respond to a request for information, and the phone number of a third company on the site, the Gourmet Source Inc., yielded a “no longer in service” message. Investors aren’t likely to throw their money into an operation that doesn’t even answer its phone. In mid-1996, Ed Palmer decided to run a little test, putting up on the SolarAttic Web site the prospectus from his 1994 stock offering. Sure enough, he started getting E-mail requests for more information. By the end of 1997, his new offering was in place on the site. SolarAttic now had a better picture to present to potential investors. The company’s sales-growth rate was close to 80% and accelerating hard. A pool dealer in Arizona signed on as the first official SolarAttic regional dealer. But once again Palmer found himself facing off against state regulators. The offering met with relatively little resistance in Connecticut, New Jersey, and Rhode Island. Palmer also painlessly tacked on Delaware, Arizona, and Colorado because those states require almost no paperwork, provided that a company is going after only a limited number of accredited investors. But Wisconsin, representing seven midwestern states that allowed pooled registration, dictated that a minimum amount of money be raised. The funds had to go into escrow until the minimum was met; if not, the money had to be returned to investors. California refused to accept the filing as a SCOR offering, instead requiring that Palmer fill out a long questionnaire that addressed the same information. The Nebraska Department of Banking and Finance sent Palmer a letter threatening criminal prosecution for violating a state law against unregistered solicitation of funds because of the Web site, even though the site clearly stated that Nebraska residents were not eligible. But it was Minnesota regulators who again seemed to set out to prove themselves the pit bulls of the DPO world, demanding that the company set up an “independent, disinterested” board of directors and even issuing a stop order against the offering. Reflecting on those and other state regulatory hassles sends Palmer into a Lenny Bruce-like rant. “These regulators were engaging in illegal activities,” he fumes. “They were breaking their own laws. How is a company supposed to put together a disinterested board? Is that an oxymoron, or what?” He churned out a press release accusing one Minnesota regulator of imposing several illegal requirements on SolarAttic. And he ended up dropping most of the rule-mongering states from his offering. Palmer claims the battles with Minnesota regulators cost him in excess of $90,000 in legal fees and his time, and set the company back years. “The SCOR rules were supposed to make it easy for small businesses to go public,” he says. “It’s supposed to be uniform, but each state lobs its own preposterous things at you. They say it’s to protect the public from crooks, but crooks don’t care about the rules. It may seem strange to hear this from a small-business owner, but I wish the federal government would take over the regulation of these things.” When the regulatory hassles were finally behind him, Palmer started to focus on driving potential investors to his Web site. He started by analyzing statistics that told him where visitors were coming from and what they were doing when they got to his site. For example, 9% of visitors came to the site from a Yahoo search, and of those, 38% had included the word solar in their search, versus only 3% who had used accredited. Only 2.5% of visitors were examining the offering “tombstone,” and eight times as many visitors were downloading technical manuals as were downloading prospectuses. Conclusion: Yahoo searches were a great potential source of referrals, but they were sending over mostly potential customers, not investors. In light of that information, Palmer decided to sign up for a $4,500 banner ad with Yahoo. The ad would be displayed at the top of the search-results page whenever someone asked for such investment keywords as IPO, DPO, SCOR, and so on. But after studying stats revealing that after 20,000 showings the banner had enticed only 200 people to click to the SolarAttic site, Palmer discontinued the ad. Next, he contracted for 50,000 page views of an ad for his offering with the Wall Street Journal Interactive Edition–ads that, he says, would be shown only to the site’s 18,000 subscribers in New Jersey, Connecticut, and Rhode Island. But again, the results were disappointing: 200 hits, after subscribers had been exposed an average of three times each to the ad. “I realized that people don’t want to be distracted by banner ads when they’re on-line looking for information,” says Palmer. “It doesn’t make sense to pay thousands of dollars for 200 hits when I can generate 300 hits from a $90 Business Wire press release.” Palmer also tried talking up his offering in various newsgroups, on bulletin boards, and in chat rooms, posting nearly 7,000 messages. But most of the forums quickly erased his messages, presumably for the same reason cited by the Motley Fool when it erased the message Palmer had placed in the “Minnesota” section of that site: the site is for publicly traded companies only. The sites that didn’t erase his message generated mostly “nastygrams,” as Palmer puts it. By that point, he knew better than to try a mass E-mailing, a.k.a. spamming. “People don’t want unsolicited E-mail, period,” he says, noting that it’s difficult to limit such mailings to particular states. Instead, Palmer limited his mailings to “opt-ins”–Web surfers who indicated their interest in receiving them. Finally, Palmer says he spent $750 to place his offering on DSM. DSM has since turned over some 40 leads to him, but most turned out to be from states in which the offering wasn’t registered. Palmer says DSM and other sites like it can be useful; for one thing, such sites often offer mechanisms for investors to trade stocks originally offered in a DPO, providing much-needed liquidity to the investment. Other lessons: few people are interested in downloading an 82-page prospectus (a process that takes about 10 minutes via a standard modem connection), judging by the fact that only a small number of people ever bothered to download his; no matter how interested investors become in the stock, they’re more likely to call up to buy rather than plug in their credit-card number; and $500 is the largest acceptable minimum investment for most Web surfers, something Palmer figured out after starting off with a $3,000 minimum before dropping it to the lower figure. Oh, and one more thing: pioneering is hard, be it for attic-heat-transfer systems or Internet fund-raising. Palmer ended up raising a mere $20,000 on this round. On the plus side, the company got to keep the money this time around because it had avoided states that required a minimum level of funding–proving, at least, that some sort of useful learning curve is in effect. Even better, the company’s increasingly bright sales picture has helped Palmer bring the total amount of money he has privately raised to over $600,000. (He now owns no stock personally but through a family trust exercises control of 40% of the company.) The obvious conclusion: private fund-raising was the way to go for SolarAttic. But that wasn’t the way Palmer saw it. “I know we’re destined to be a public company,” he says. Ever the optimist, Palmer concludes, “We could grow to a hundred million a year, easy.” That’s a long way from the $118,000 the company brought in last year, but, on the other hand, revenues so far this year are up 250% over the same period last year. There are now more than 200 SolarAttic pool-heating units installed throughout 31 states. Buoyed by that growth rate, at press time Palmer was registering a $4.8-million Regulation A DPO in New York and–combative fellow that he is–Minnesota. He ticks off the reasons that things will be different this time around: he’s learned a lot of the ins and outs of marketing stock on the Internet; Internet DPOs are gaining credibility; and he knows how to keep the satanic state regulators at bay. He also says he’s going to try to play the affinity card this time around, using the Internet to zoom in on the environmentally conscientious. He’s also going for a reverse affinity play. “If you’re a pool owner who learns about our technology as a potential investor, I might get you as a customer, too,” he says. And if this round fizzles like the others? Then he’ll try again. “I go by the kick-the-can theory of money raising,” he says. “I won’t allow myself to think I have to have a certain amount or I can’t make the business go. That’s linear thinking. I’ll spend the rest of my life making this work.” You can almost hear the Minnesota regulators gnashing their teeth. David H. Freedman is a contributor to Inc. Virtual road show Clay Womack, CEO Direct Stock Market Launched: 1993 What Direct Stock Market is: A listing service for direct public offerings (DPOs) and private placements. Direct Stock Market provides an on-line community environment in which investors can discuss offerings, but they must do their own due diligence. Direct Stock Market also helps companies to put together Web-based “virtual road shows.” And isn’t: An automated system for filing a Regulation A or Regulation D offering. You still have to do all the paperwork yourself–off-line. The on-line advantage: Investors can scan the prospectuses of several dozen DPOs and private placements, and companies can get their offerings in front of thousands of small-business-friendly investors. “There are 80,000-plus businesses in the United States that are growing at a rate of at least 50% per annum, and the VCs are only doing 2,000 deals at any point in time,” says Womack. “I want the other 78,000 businesses on our site.” Your odds of finding funding: Probably better than if you posted the offering only on your own Web site. Womack has done a good job of generating publicity for the site. But mismatches are common. Interested investors may respond on-line from states in which your DPO isn’t registered. On the other hand, if Direct Stock Market becomes a broker-dealer as planned, your offering could find a much wider audience. (For a price.) Fee: From $2,500 to $4,000, depending on the size of the offering, for a 90-day listing. –D.F. We’re from the government. We’re here to help Terry Bibbens, Entrepreneur in Residence Ace-net Launched: 1997 What ACE-Net is: A Small Business Administration-sponsored listing service for companies that have completed the paperwork for a streamlined direct public offering (DPO). The Angel Capital Electronic Network (ACE-Net) was designed to make small offerings (up to $5 million) cheaper and easier to pull off by eliminating the need for a broker-dealer and lowering the legal barriers; a listing on ACE-Net satisfies many states’ securities regulations. And isn’t: A vehicle for launching a full-fledged DPO–you can’t sell stock to just anyone, only to “accredited” investors. The on-line advantage: “A single filing on ACE-Net suffices to exchange stock certificates and checks in multiple states. The offering document is created from a simple Q&A the entrepreneur fills out on-line. Your lawyer, accountant, and board can also log on and review the document and make changes in real time. And you can also quickly modify the offering depending on the marketplace. Rewriting the offer and refiling it is not hard to do on-line.” Your odds of finding funding: Until recently, dismal, if you hoped to do a national direct offering. Despite its government connections, ACE-Net has lacked crucial nationwide support and publicity. That’s slowly changing, now that 37 states and 1,000 investors are on board. In one recent six-month period, 20% of the 140 companies listed in ACE-Net’s national database had received financing. The DPO route hasn’t exactly caught fire, perhaps because it’s the wrong vehicle for appealing to angels. But you don’t have to do a DPO to tap local ACE-Net resources–and connections to angel groups. Fee: Up to $450 for an annual listing. –Susan Greco The IPO classifieds Stephen D. Pelletier, CEO Offroad Capital Corp. Launched: 1999 What OffRoad Capital is: A “placement agent” for established private companies seeking growth capital of $3 million to $15 million. Several thousand accredited investors–including angel groups and some VCs–are expected to kick in a minimum of $25,000 per investor per deal. Road shows will be real and virtual: CEOs make studio appearances and take questions from investors via E-mail or phone. “We’re not just a listing service. We help these companies get financed.” And isn’t: An underwriter of deals. The on-line advantage: The ability to create a public “marketplace” for vetting and selling private placements. “Real companies with real revenues and profits should be able to tap equity, not just debt. Within three years, it will happen,” says Pelletier. “We’re using the Internet to create a marketplace for growing companies.” Your odds of finding funding: Slightly better than at Garage.com if your annual sales growth is at least 20% and your company’s valuation is at least $20 million. You also need a clear exit strategy, such as a public offering, merger, or acquisition. Of 400 companies recently considered, 5 have received financing. All industries are welcome, but “don’t be surprised” if the first deals are Internet plays, says Pelletier. Fee: From 3% to 9% of any money raised. –S.G. A match made in . . . cyberspace? Guy Kowasaki, CEO Garage.com Launched: 1998 What Garage.com is: A matchmaker for company founders and sophisticated angel investors, select venture capitalists, and corporate venture-capital divisions. Entrepreneurs receive help with creating a management team or marketing strategy and with pitching their companies to the investors involved, who collectively have kicked in an average of $2.9 million per deal. “We’re a broker-dealer, quasi investment banker, and what I call a venture ‘gapitalist.’ We fill that gap from $1 million to $4 million,” says Kawasaki. “The bottom line is we’re trying to help two guys or two gals in a garage get seed capital. We find ‘em, fix ‘em, and fund ‘em.” And isn’t: The final word. “Angels have to do their own due diligence. There’s no on-line yenta yet.” The on-line advantage: “It’s compressing time to ‘high value’ money and providing a greater breadth of exposure for the entrepreneur. It’s all about opening up the channels. Taking information over the Internet is 100 times more efficient for us than taking a paper business plan. We determine the questions and how much space entrepreneurs have to answer each one–it’s all standardized. And the plans are searchable forever. All plans are created equal through the Internet. And we read every one of them.” Your odds of finding funding: Nil, unless you’re a hot start-up in high tech, biotech, or health sciences. Garage.com expects to close on 30 deals culled from a projected 10,000 business plans to be submitted by the end of the year. Fee: Typically, 5% of money raised. Garage.com also buys a small stake in the company at the “pre-deal valuation” price. –S.G. On the auction block Ian Zwicker, President WR Hambrecht & Co. OpenIPO Launched: 1998 What OpenIPO is: A process by which WR Hambrecht & Co., an investment-banking firm, takes companies public by auctioning shares over the Inte

Got Money?

Ed Palmer might not think of himself as a pioneer. But he’s among the first wave of company builders to look for investors on the Internet without a middleman Ed Palmer is at his desk, bracketed by two Macs, poring over the number of hits received by the various components of his business’s Web site. The company’s only other full-time employee is a cubicle away, dashing off a string of E-mail notes from his computer. This could be almost any Web start-up, if it weren’t for the company’s only other room–a storage room across the hall–one that should be filled with humming servers and blinking modems. Instead, the room turns out to be littered with crates, pallets, and ungainly mechanical devices–an inventory of actual things. Palmer’s company, SolarAttic Inc., is not a flash-fire Silicon Valley Web start-up but a conventional small company in a Minneapolis suburb that has been engaged in a gritty, 13-year struggle to score with products that could at best be called medium-tech. What especially distinguishes SolarAttic from the typical Internet business is that despite the fact that sales have been taking off, venture capitalists, angels, and other investors have not been lining up to hurl money at the company to propel it into the next stage. As a result, Palmer has modified SolarAttic’s growth strategy to include an on-line wrinkle so cutting edge that few Web businesses have dared to try it. Namely, the company is trying to go public by finding its own $1,000-here, $500-there investors over the Internet. No investment banks, no brokers. The realization of ultra-low-cost, wide-open stock offerings–a pure, frictionless transfer of money from the public to a company–may ultimately become one of the most powerful applications of the Internet. It’s turbocapitalism: for ordinary investors, a chance to get in on the ground floor of even tiny, distant, or obscure companies; for underfunded, non-Web start-ups, an opportunity to get their story out to people who might be willing to take a modest gamble. Dozens of companies have already altered the conventional model of fund-raising to take advantage of the Internet’s reach and efficiency. But surprisingly few companies have tried to go all the way and strip their efforts down to a simple on-line proposition: send me money and I’ll give you a piece of my company. SolarAttic, as unlikely a high-tech pioneer as it may be, is one of them. The results have not been entirely pretty. Despite garnering a small sea of leads, the flow of actual on-line investment in the company has barely reached the level of a trickle. Among the challenges the company continues to face: getting the right people to its site, differentiating its offer from those of con artists, and slogging through a morass of state regulations. But SolarAttic is forging ahead, learning what works and what doesn’t as it goes along. As the company embarks on its third public offering–the second that is based on the Web–Palmer offers a simple explanation for why he keeps at it: he is convinced, as are many others, that this is just too good an idea to ultimately not work. Anyone who has ever climbed into an attic on a sunny day can appreciate the basic idea behind SolarAttic. Heat gets trapped up there. Why not put it to work? Palmer, for one, cannot abide the fact that energy is literally floating around the tops of homes while their owners pay good money for heat in other forms. Call it an engineer’s disdain for the inefficient. Palmer worked on guided-missile-system computers for the navy and later on civilian computers, before a friend’s offhand remark 16 years ago changed his life. The English, said the friend, often keep their water heaters in their attics not only for the pressure gain that gravity provides but also for the free temperature boost. Never mind that the English also eat meat in pies and beat one another up at sports events. Free energy was a good thing, Palmer declared, and worth following up on. Two years later, with salaried life permanently behind him, Palmer began his attic-heat-tapping experiments–ultimately taking over nearly two-thirds of the floor space in his Elk River, Minn., home, including the entire basement and garage. The goal: to figure out a way to transfer the heat to piped-in water that could then be pushed into a swimming pool. Since he didn’t own a pool, he set up a 125-gallon horse trough in the garage; to compensate for Minnesota’s frequent dearth of sunlight, he set up electric heaters in the attic to provide heat that he could then get rid of. His efforts fell short until he hit on the missing ingredient: a fan to blow the hot attic air over his boxed-in network of thin piping. Unfortunately, having a good product concept and moving a good product are two different things. At the rate Palmer was going, he had already run through his savings; he and his wife were living on $12,000 a year, mostly borrowed, and his wife was doing all their home maintenance and repair work. He went to a venture capitalist and was told to come back after he sold the first 100 systems. He went looking for angels but found himself in a geographical bind: investors based in mostly chilly Minnesota couldn’t relate to the pool market in general and to a solar-dependent product in particular; investors in warmer climes were not interested in a company that was so far away. He kept plugging away. “If you lose faith, that’s when things start to unfold on you,” he says. Finally, in 1986, Palmer wrote up a list of just about everyone he had ever known and sent roughly 700 of them a letter asking them to invest, valuing the company at $1 million. He was even willing to trade away majority ownership of the company if he could raise that much, since he figured he could exercise effective control with a concentrated 20% of the stock. In any case he raised a nonthreatening but badly needed $50,000. Palmer’s first sale wouldn’t come for three more years. In 1989 he finally sold a pool heater–to a reseller in Florida–for $1,600. And the feedback from that first sale was extremely promising. After performing a test, the customer reported that his pool’s water temperature had risen by 20 degrees to 98 degrees Fahrenheit. Even better, as the temperature in the pool went up, the customer’s energy costs to heat the pool went down. Typically, pool owners have reported costs as high as $300 per month to heat their swimming pools. By contrast, Palmer’s heater costs about $11 a month to operate, treating pool owners to a “warm pool without hot bills,” as Palmer puts it. Heating pools is not a quirky endeavor. According to Palmer, it is a $200-million annual market, based on the number and retail cost of pool heaters being sold. By the early 1990s, Palmer started thinking seriously about going public. It wasn’t grandiosity; he had simply recognized that the SEC had lowered the bar for small-company securities offerings a few years before by creating the small-corporate-offering registration, or SCOR, and so-called Regulation A offerings, both of which require no or minimal scrutiny from the SEC. Subject to state regulation, companies can raise up to $1 million in a 12-month period with a SCOR, or $5 million with a Regulation A offering. Palmer talked to brokers, but none were interested in taking part in offerings below $10 million (Palmer’s was less than $5 million) and the correspondingly small fees that their 10% commission would generate. No problem, he thought. He’d do it the way he had done everything else: on his own. In 1994, Palmer filed for a $1.5-million-minimum and $3-million-maximum Regulation A offering in Minnesota, and was promptly blindsided by state regulators, who told him he had only 180 days to raise the money–even though there was no such rule on the Minnesota books. Palmer eventually resolved the matter with state regulators, but the fight had been so time-consuming that the offering languished and ultimately fell short, necessitating the return of the $250,000 he had raised and placed into escrow. But Palmer walked away with a list of 1,000 interested investors, and to a few of them he sent a letter offering a private placement at a 20% discount from the public offering price, which generated $125,000. Two years later Palmer figured it couldn’t hurt to put up a Web site that provided sales and technical information about his company. It wasn’t long after the site’s debut that he realized the Web could be a big selling tool for SolarAttic. “People used to call about a product and ask something like, ‘What’s the PCS1?” notes Jim Stanley, Palmer’s half-brother and SolarAttic’s vice-president of sales and marketing. “Now they download the technical manual first, and then call and say, ‘Here’s my credit-card number.” By mid-1997, the site was pulling in as many as 40,000 hits a month (and it now pulls in roughly 100,000 a month). That was the good news. The bad news was that the company was now generating far more leads and opportunities than Palmer and Stanley could handle. Ultimately, Palmer wanted to hire more people–and he figured that with an expanding array of products, the potential market he could tap into could be worth as much as $10 billion. The capital requirements of that vision, combined with the fact that he was still living on fumes himself, meant that he needed another round of financing. Drawing on a heady brew of desperation, optimism, and masochism, Palmer decided to go back to the public offering well in a big way. While mulling over strategies for how to make things turn out better this time, Palmer stumbled across an article that told how Spring Street Brewing Co. had conducted a successful Regulation A initial public offering over the Internet. (See ” The Real Legacy of Spring Street Brewing.”) It all double-clicked for Palmer. To his engineer’s eye, using the Web to facilitate the transfer of small plugs of money to the stock of a small company whose potentially fabulous growth was being stunted by a lack of capital was like, well, using the PCS1 to transfer heat from a stuffy attic to a chilly pool. Three trends central to the recent evolution of our economy point to the likelihood that small investors will embrace Internet-based direct stock offerings from small companies: The small investor has become more independent of brokers and mutual-fund managers, less risk averse, and more enamored of IPOs. The Internet has gradually been greasing the gears of investment mechanisms, cutting commissions and making more investment instruments and professional-quality information about them directly available to anyone with a computer and modem. The country’s economic engine is increasingly fueled by small companies. Direct public offerings will provide opportunities far more interesting than today’s typical IPO. Currently, the vast majority of small investors are locked out of IPOs altogether, and anyone who does manage to buy in is paying not only for a piece of the company, but also for the underwriter’s 7% commission and at least 3% or so in other fees related to the costs of going public. What’s more, the companies represented by today’s high-profile IPOs have had their growth and market potential thoroughly plumbed by venture-capital and investment-banking pros; the chances that you’ll see something that everyone else has missed, and thus end up with a true bargain, are not good. Buy directly into a tiny, unsung company’s do-it-yourself Internet offering, on the other hand, and you’ve got a genuine, undiluted chance of surfing in front of a wave of growth that other investors–including the pros–haven’t spotted. Needless to say, the risks would be correspondingly high. To pick the gems out of what will likely be a field made up predominantly of losers, small investors will have to do what angels do today: apply careful analysis and good instincts. Except you won’t have to risk $50,000 or more, as you typically do today, to buy in at ground zero; $500 or so should do it. Welcome to the dawn of the micro-angel. What can small companies hoping to raise money through an Internet DPO do to connect with potential micro-angels? Unfortunately, you probably won’t learn much by examining the offerings out there today. I searched the Web using keywords and phrases like IPO, direct public offering, investors wanted, SCOR, and the like, and checked out dozens of small-business and capital-raising-related sites and bulletin boards. Of the 20 or so registered small-company stock offerings that I turned up, many appeared to be hybrids of one sort or another, depending at least as much on conventional techniques as on the Web to attract and convince investors. The bottom line: the pure Internet DPO is largely unexplored territory. On the other hand, three years from now it will probably seem like old hat, with thousands of small companies competing for investors’ attention. The ideal moment to strike will probably lie somewhere between now and then–and your guess is as good as anyone else’s. If there’s a shadow hanging over the on-line DPO market, it’s that being cast by securities fraud. Traditional stock offerings are heavily scrutinized by brokers and the SEC; typically, no one does due diligence on a DPO. DPOs that take place entirely on the Internet are ripe for con artists for the same reason that they are so appealing to legitimate companies: they are quick and cheap to set up. The SEC has charged 83 individuals and companies in the past year with Internet securities fraud, 26 of them for hawking entirely fictitious deals. Two years ago a company called Interactive Products and Services (IPS) Inc. rolled out a DPO to develop WebTV products; the offering was listed entirely on the Internet. IPS pulled in about $200,000 from small investors before California officials shut the operation down as a scam and sent its CEO to jail. Not surprisingly, con artists have figured out the kind of leverage they can achieve via the Net. In my search for offerings, I came across hundreds of bulletin-board investment solicitations in almost comically fishy-sounding ventures ranging from gold mines to magazines for “exotic models.” But only the most naïve investors would be taken in by those sorts of come-ons. On the other hand, what to make of a company like Fonecash.com? Listed on Direct Stock Market (DSM), a Web site that specializes in listing DPOs and private placements, as a developer of a credit-card-transaction-processing device, Fonecash.com is floating a $990,000 DPO. The Fonecash.com Web site consists of an “under construction” notice, and the company had not returned phone calls by press time. Another DSM-listed company, Specialized Autocore Services Inc., also failed to respond to a request for information, and the phone number of a third company on the site, the Gourmet Source Inc., yielded a “no longer in service” message. Investors aren’t likely to throw their money into an operation that doesn’t even answer its phone. In mid-1996, Ed Palmer decided to run a little test, putting up on the SolarAttic Web site the prospectus from his 1994 stock offering. Sure enough, he started getting E-mail requests for more information. By the end of 1997, his new offering was in place on the site. SolarAttic now had a better picture to present to potential investors. The company’s sales-growth rate was close to 80% and accelerating hard. A pool dealer in Arizona signed on as the first official SolarAttic regional dealer. But once again Palmer found himself facing off against state regulators. The offering met with relatively little resistance in Connecticut, New Jersey, and Rhode Island. Palmer also painlessly tacked on Delaware, Arizona, and Colorado because those states require almost no paperwork, provided that a company is going after only a limited number of accredited investors. But Wisconsin, representing seven midwestern states that allowed pooled registration, dictated that a minimum amount of money be raised. The funds had to go into escrow until the minimum was met; if not, the money had to be returned to investors. California refused to accept the filing as a SCOR offering, instead requiring that Palmer fill out a long questionnaire that addressed the same information. The Nebraska Department of Banking and Finance sent Palmer a letter threatening criminal prosecution for violating a state law against unregistered solicitation of funds because of the Web site, even though the site clearly stated that Nebraska residents were not eligible. But it was Minnesota regulators who again seemed to set out to prove themselves the pit bulls of the DPO world, demanding that the company set up an “independent, disinterested” board of directors and even issuing a stop order against the offering. Reflecting on those and other state regulatory hassles sends Palmer into a Lenny Bruce-like rant. “These regulators were engaging in illegal activities,” he fumes. “They were breaking their own laws. How is a company supposed to put together a disinterested board? Is that an oxymoron, or what?” He churned out a press release accusing one Minnesota regulator of imposing several illegal requirements on SolarAttic. And he ended up dropping most of the rule-mongering states from his offering. Palmer claims the battles with Minnesota regulators cost him in excess of $90,000 in legal fees and his time, and set the company back years. “The SCOR rules were supposed to make it easy for small businesses to go public,” he says. “It’s supposed to be uniform, but each state lobs its own preposterous things at you. They say it’s to protect the public from crooks, but crooks don’t care about the rules. It may seem strange to hear this from a small-business owner, but I wish the federal government would take over the regulation of these things.” When the regulatory hassles were finally behind him, Palmer started to focus on driving potential investors to his Web site. He started by analyzing statistics that told him where visitors were coming from and what they were doing when they got to his site. For example, 9% of visitors came to the site from a Yahoo search, and of those, 38% had included the word solar in their search, versus only 3% who had used accredited. Only 2.5% of visitors were examining the offering “tombstone,” and eight times as many visitors were downloading technical manuals as were downloading prospectuses. Conclusion: Yahoo searches were a great potential source of referrals, but they were sending over mostly potential customers, not investors. In light of that information, Palmer decided to sign up for a $4,500 banner ad with Yahoo. The ad would be displayed at the top of the search-results page whenever someone asked for such investment keywords as IPO, DPO, SCOR, and so on. But after studying stats revealing that after 20,000 showings the banner had enticed only 200 people to click to the SolarAttic site, Palmer discontinued the ad. Next, he contracted for 50,000 page views of an ad for his offering with the Wall Street Journal Interactive Edition–ads that, he says, would be shown only to the site’s 18,000 subscribers in New Jersey, Connecticut, and Rhode Island. But again, the results were disappointing: 200 hits, after subscribers had been exposed an average of three times each to the ad. “I realized that people don’t want to be distracted by banner ads when they’re on-line looking for information,” says Palmer. “It doesn’t make sense to pay thousands of dollars for 200 hits when I can generate 300 hits from a $90 Business Wire press release.” Palmer also tried talking up his offering in various newsgroups, on bulletin boards, and in chat rooms, posting nearly 7,000 messages. But most of the forums quickly erased his messages, presumably for the same reason cited by the Motley Fool when it erased the message Palmer had placed in the “Minnesota” section of that site: the site is for publicly traded companies only. The sites that didn’t erase his message generated mostly “nastygrams,” as Palmer puts it. By that point, he knew better than to try a mass E-mailing, a.k.a. spamming. “People don’t want unsolicited E-mail, period,” he says, noting that it’s difficult to limit such mailings to particular states. Instead, Palmer limited his mailings to “opt-ins”–Web surfers who indicated their interest in receiving them. Finally, Palmer says he spent $750 to place his offering on DSM. DSM has since turned over some 40 leads to him, but most turned out to be from states in which the offering wasn’t registered. Palmer says DSM and other sites like it can be useful; for one thing, such sites often offer mechanisms for investors to trade stocks originally offered in a DPO, providing much-needed liquidity to the investment. Other lessons: few people are interested in downloading an 82-page prospectus (a process that takes about 10 minutes via a standard modem connection), judging by the fact that only a small number of people ever bothered to download his; no matter how interested investors become in the stock, they’re more likely to call up to buy rather than plug in their credit-card number; and $500 is the largest acceptable minimum investment for most Web surfers, something Palmer figured out after starting off with a $3,000 minimum before dropping it to the lower figure. Oh, and one more thing: pioneering is hard, be it for attic-heat-transfer systems or Internet fund-raising. Palmer ended up raising a mere $20,000 on this round. On the plus side, the company got to keep the money this time around because it had avoided states that required a minimum level of funding–proving, at least, that some sort of useful learning curve is in effect. Even better, the company’s increasingly bright sales picture has helped Palmer bring the total amount of money he has privately raised to over $600,000. (He now owns no stock personally but through a family trust exercises control of 40% of the company.) The obvious conclusion: private fund-raising was the way to go for SolarAttic. But that wasn’t the way Palmer saw it. “I know we’re destined to be a public company,” he says. Ever the optimist, Palmer concludes, “We could grow to a hundred million a year, easy.” That’s a long way from the $118,000 the company brought in last year, but, on the other hand, revenues so far this year are up 250% over the same period last year. There are now more than 200 SolarAttic pool-heating units installed throughout 31 states. Buoyed by that growth rate, at press time Palmer was registering a $4.8-million Regulation A DPO in New York and–combative fellow that he is–Minnesota. He ticks off the reasons that things will be different this time around: he’s learned a lot of the ins and outs of marketing stock on the Internet; Internet DPOs are gaining credibility; and he knows how to keep the satanic state regulators at bay. He also says he’s going to try to play the affinity card this time around, using the Internet to zoom in on the environmentally conscientious. He’s also going for a reverse affinity play. “If you’re a pool owner who learns about our technology as a potential investor, I might get you as a customer, too,” he says. And if this round fizzles like the others? Then he’ll try again. “I go by the kick-the-can theory of money raising,” he says. “I won’t allow myself to think I have to have a certain amount or I can’t make the business go. That’s linear thinking. I’ll spend the rest of my life making this work.” You can almost hear the Minnesota regulators gnashing their teeth. David H. Freedman is a contributor to Inc. Virtual road show Clay Womack, CEO Direct Stock Market Launched: 1993 What Direct Stock Market is: A listing service for direct public offerings (DPOs) and private placements. Direct Stock Market provides an on-line community environment in which investors can discuss offerings, but they must do their own due diligence. Direct Stock Market also helps companies to put together Web-based “virtual road shows.” And isn’t: An automated system for filing a Regulation A or Regulation D offering. You still have to do all the paperwork yourself–off-line. The on-line advantage: Investors can scan the prospectuses of several dozen DPOs and private placements, and companies can get their offerings in front of thousands of small-business-friendly investors. “There are 80,000-plus businesses in the United States that are growing at a rate of at least 50% per annum, and the VCs are only doing 2,000 deals at any point in time,” says Womack. “I want the other 78,000 businesses on our site.” Your odds of finding funding: Probably better than if you posted the offering only on your own Web site. Womack has done a good job of generating publicity for the site. But mismatches are common. Interested investors may respond on-line from states in which your DPO isn’t registered. On the other hand, if Direct Stock Market becomes a broker-dealer as planned, your offering could find a much wider audience. (For a price.) Fee: From $2,500 to $4,000, depending on the size of the offering, for a 90-day listing. –D.F. We’re from the government. We’re here to help Terry Bibbens, Entrepreneur in Residence Ace-net Launched: 1997 What ACE-Net is: A Small Business Administration-sponsored listing service for companies that have completed the paperwork for a streamlined direct public offering (DPO). The Angel Capital Electronic Network (ACE-Net) was designed to make small offerings (up to $5 million) cheaper and easier to pull off by eliminating the need for a broker-dealer and lowering the legal barriers; a listing on ACE-Net satisfies many states’ securities regulations. And isn’t: A vehicle for launching a full-fledged DPO–you can’t sell stock to just anyone, only to “accredited” investors. The on-line advantage: “A single filing on ACE-Net suffices to exchange stock certificates and checks in multiple states. The offering document is created from a simple Q&A the entrepreneur fills out on-line. Your lawyer, accountant, and board can also log on and review the document and make changes in real time. And you can also quickly modify the offering depending on the marketplace. Rewriting the offer and refiling it is not hard to do on-line.” Your odds of finding funding: Until recently, dismal, if you hoped to do a national direct offering. Despite its government connections, ACE-Net has lacked crucial nationwide support and publicity. That’s slowly changing, now that 37 states and 1,000 investors are on board. In one recent six-month period, 20% of the 140 companies listed in ACE-Net’s national database had received financing. The DPO route hasn’t exactly caught fire, perhaps because it’s the wrong vehicle for appealing to angels. But you don’t have to do a DPO to tap local ACE-Net resources–and connections to angel groups. Fee: Up to $450 for an annual listing. –Susan Greco The IPO classifieds Stephen D. Pelletier, CEO Offroad Capital Corp. Launched: 1999 What OffRoad Capital is: A “placement agent” for established private companies seeking growth capital of $3 million to $15 million. Several thousand accredited investors–including angel groups and some VCs–are expected to kick in a minimum of $25,000 per investor per deal. Road shows will be real and virtual: CEOs make studio appearances and take questions from investors via E-mail or phone. “We’re not just a listing service. We help these companies get financed.” And isn’t: An underwriter of deals. The on-line advantage: The ability to create a public “marketplace” for vetting and selling private placements. “Real companies with real revenues and profits should be able to tap equity, not just debt. Within three years, it will happen,” says Pelletier. “We’re using the Internet to create a marketplace for growing companies.” Your odds of finding funding: Slightly better than at Garage.com if your annual sales growth is at least 20% and your company’s valuation is at least $20 million. You also need a clear exit strategy, such as a public offering, merger, or acquisition. Of 400 companies recently considered, 5 have received financing. All industries are welcome, but “don’t be surprised” if the first deals are Internet plays, says Pelletier. Fee: From 3% to 9% of any money raised. –S.G. A match made in . . . cyberspace? Guy Kowasaki, CEO Garage.com Launched: 1998 What Garage.com is: A matchmaker for company founders and sophisticated angel investors, select venture capitalists, and corporate venture-capital divisions. Entrepreneurs receive help with creating a management team or marketing strategy and with pitching their companies to the investors involved, who collectively have kicked in an average of $2.9 million per deal. “We’re a broker-dealer, quasi investment banker, and what I call a venture ‘gapitalist.’ We fill that gap from $1 million to $4 million,” says Kawasaki. “The bottom line is we’re trying to help two guys or two gals in a garage get seed capital. We find ‘em, fix ‘em, and fund ‘em.” And isn’t: The final word. “Angels have to do their own due diligence. There’s no on-line yenta yet.” The on-line advantage: “It’s compressing time to ‘high value’ money and providing a greater breadth of exposure for the entrepreneur. It’s all about opening up the channels. Taking information over the Internet is 100 times more efficient for us than taking a paper business plan. We determine the questions and how much space entrepreneurs have to answer each one–it’s all standardized. And the plans are searchable forever. All plans are created equal through the Internet. And we read every one of them.” Your odds of finding funding: Nil, unless you’re a hot start-up in high tech, biotech, or health sciences. Garage.com expects to close on 30 deals culled from a projected 10,000 business plans to be submitted by the end of the year. Fee: Typically, 5% of money raised. Garage.com also buys a small stake in the company at the “pre-deal valuation” price. –S.G. On the auction block Ian Zwicker, President WR Hambrecht & Co. OpenIPO Launched: 1998 What OpenIPO is: A process by which WR Hambrecht & Co., an investment-banking firm, takes companies public by auctioning shares over the Inte

The Art of the Net

Best of the Web You can shop for art in cyberspace, but does it make sense? Eighteen CEOs scout sites offering everything from Picasso originals to basic frames As the manager of a new office in San Francisco last year, Richard Ogden drew the assignment of decorating the space. His employer, Quidnunc, an E-commerce consultancy based in London, provided $5,000 for artwork. Ogden, a musician by training, didn’t know much about buying art, so he went online. He zipped to NextMonet.com, perused its offerings of original paintings, and created his own virtual “gallery” of works that he thought might jibe with Quidnunc’s style. NextMonet.com, one of several Web sites that market art to businesses, concentrates on works by contemporary artists. If Ogden’s budget had been far larger, he might have checked out Fine Art Lease’s site, which features original Picassos and Pissarros that companies can buy or lease. Or if Ogden had been hunting simply for vintage van Gogh and Matisse prints or posters, he could have turned to Art.com. In addition to actual art, these Web companies typically market framing, matting, and installation services, as well as art consulting. These sites are, of course, businesses themselves, aiming for a slice of the burgeoning corporate-art market, though all of them seek individuals as customers as well. They vary as widely in their content and character as the products they sell. Artsourceonline.com, for example, is the Web arm of ArtSource, based in New Berlin, Wis. It was founded in 1990 as a mail-order catalog, the sales from which still account for part of its $3 million in revenues. At the other extreme is start-up NextMonet.com, based in San Francisco; leading Web investor CMGI owns 38% of the company. Unlike ArtSource, which displays art on its site but urges customers to contact the company by E-mail or telephone, NextMonet.com is set up to consummate its sales online. But Ogden, for one, didn’t buy over the Net. He chose to visit NextMonet’s headquarters, which happened to be down the block from Quidnunc’s. During the six weeks that followed, NextMonet dispatched representatives to the Quidnunc office to measure walls and observe the light. Eventually, Ogden bought six $600 abstract paintings by Derrick Buisch. By posting Quidnunc’s preliminary selections on NextMonet’s virtual gallery, Ogden made it easy for other Quidnunc employees and NextMonet representatives to weigh in with opinions and scope out alternatives. Shopping on the Web saved Ogden from having to browse galleries from New York to Paris. But if you go online in search of art for your company, which site would serve you best? To guide your search, Inc. asked 18 small-business chief executives to review five Web sites that sell art to companies. The panelists differed widely on which sites they liked and didn’t like, based on their tastes and needs. Which site is right for you? Read on. www.art.com What it’s good for: Prints and posters of well-known artists and genres. The CEOs generally lauded Art.com’s framing and matting services, as well as its pricing. “Simple, recognizable prints at a decent price,” said one CEO. Don’t waste your time if: You want paintings. Asked if he’d return to the site, one CEO replied, “Maybe for reasonably priced prints.” What our CEOs had to say: Another reviewer reflected the consensus of his fellow panelists when he said that judging Art.com in relation to Fine Art Lease, for example, was “like comparing a poster outlet store in a mall to a fine art gallery.” What you ought to know: The site’s parent company, $248-million Getty Images, based in Seattle, provides digital images to such customers as publishers and graphic designers. In light of how well Art.com scored with our CEOs, it’s noteworthy that Getty Images considers Art.com a sales channel primarily for reaching consumers rather than businesses. www.artsourceonline.com What it’s good for: Browsing for posters and “understanding different looks and treatments,” in the view of one CEO. Don’t waste your time if: You want a 100% online transaction. Many of our panelists were miffed that most items were unaccompanied by listed prices. “The service generally requires you to add a piece to a personalized gallery, which requires registration, then forces you to request a quote,” said one reviewer. “Too much trouble to go through for the generic Jimmy Dean poster I was looking at.” What our CEOs had to say: Several lauded the site’s setup, which lets the user point to paintings according to price bracket. But they said other aspects of the site’s search function needed work. “I could see all fine art between $751 and $1,500,” one said, “but if I limited the search further, I was likely to get a goose egg on the results.” What you ought to know: The absence of pricing on some sections of the site is intentional. ArtSource sells to many wholesalers, and it doesn’t want to intimidate them by posting the more expensive retail prices conspicuously on the Web. www.fineartlease.com What it’s good for: Leasing, leasing with an option to buy, or outright purchasing of renowned paintings, photographs, sculpture, and drawings. “I really like the idea of being able to lease a piece of nice and expensive art,” said one CEO. Don’t waste your time if: Leasing gives you the creeps. The reviewers liked the concept, but none said they’d actually do it. “I can’t imagine leasing a $200K painting,” noted one. “If I wanted it enough, I’d buy it.” What our CEOs had to say: Ironically, the only site of the five that offers original Picassos was considered “boring” to look at. “Fine Art Lease gave me sort of a foreboding feeling … dark colors … not much help,” one CEO explained. What you ought to know: According to Fine Art Lease chairman and CEO Ian Peck, the company’s average work costs $35,000. To lease a $35,000 work for three years would cost $690 a month, which might explain why our panel found leasing appealing only in theory. www.nextmonet.com What it’s good for: Affordable work by up-and-coming artists. Even one of the most critical CEOs said, “I felt as though there was art I liked at a price I would pay.” Don’t waste your time if: You need answers right away about frames, since the site refers inquiries to its network of framers all over the United States. “I didn’t find the framing options when you purchase a piece, which is important,” said one CEO. A few panelists wished the site had different search criteria, since they wanted to view artwork by movement (impressionism, for instance) rather than by medium (say, sculpture). What our CEOs had to say: The site was well organized and good-looking. What you ought to know: NextMonet.com’s specialty is original contemporary art. Don’t shop there if you’re looking for a print of your favorite Rembrandt. www.visualize.com What it’s good for: Specific information on how businesses should buy art. “Great for the corporate user,” one of the panelists said. “It’s like having your own corporate interior designer.” There is, in fact, a specific area of the site devoted to the corporate user. Don’t waste your time if: You want something by someone famous. Like NextMonet.com, Visualize showcases its own troupe of artists. What our CEOs had to say: The site is presented very effectively and offers great information. It’s not too flashy but is clearly navigable and easy to understand. What you ought to know: Visualize has a rental program; monthly rates range from $25 to $60 for a piece of artwork. The Bottom Line Receiving the most laurels were Art.com and Visualize, each of which scored well in every category. However, the three CEOs who reviewed both sites liked Visualize a little better, singling out portions of the site that catered specifically to business buyers. NextMonet.com and ArtSource Online rated about the same, but the former generally received more enthusiastic comments. Fine Art Lease brought up the rear, despite its seemingly business-friendly leasing options. The CEOs didn’t burn with desire for the site’s crÈme de la crÈme collection, and they found the art too expensive even as a rental. Ilan Mochari is a reporter at Inc. The savvy entrepreneur’s guide to the art Web Would our CEOs go back? What is the site good for? CEOs’ quick take www.art.com “Yes, for specific personal art.” “Prints from known artists and genres.” “Quick, easy, enjoyable.” www.artsourceonline.com “Maybe.” “To browse posters.” “Not possible to browse and buy in a single session.” www.fineartlease.com “No.” “To lease a piece of nice and expensive art.” “Not my style — can’t imagine leasing a $200K painting.” www.nextmonet.com “Just out of curiosity.” “Possible discovery of new artists.” “I didn’t find the framing options.” www.visualize.com “You bet.” “Corporate programs and options.” “Very good; I like it.” Grading the Sites Ease of navigation Inventory Content Reliability Framing/ ancillary services Pricing Something you’d pay for? Average grade art.com B+ B B B+ A- A- B+ B+ artsourceonline.com B B- B- B B- C+ C- B- fineartlease.com B- C C+ B C+ C- D+ C nextmonet.com B B- C+ B+ C B C- B- visualize.com B B A- A- B+ B B+ B+ Our Panelists Terry Benish, president and CEO, Purple Solutions Jeffrey S. Davis, CEO and chairman, Mage Bryan Desloge, CEO, TMC Medical Don Epperson, president, HookMedia Julio Gomez, CEO, Gomez Advisors Sam Goodner, founder, Catapult Systems Pamela Hawken, president and CEO, Gardenside Samuel B. Kellett Jr., founder, president, and CEO, eAttorney.com Brent M. Kleinheksel, CEO and founder, PlanetPortal Jack Littman-Quinn, CEO, OneCore Michelle Lubow, CEO, Design One Bret McElfish, CEO, McElfish + Co. Spencer Newman, CEO, AdventurousTraveler.com Bill Oxford, CEO, The Oxford Group Gary G. Pan, CEO and founder, Panacea Consulting Claude Pope, president and CEO, Office Supply Solutions Dennis Scheyer, president and creative director, Scheyer/SF Steve Warren, owner, Katzinger’s Deli Please e-mail your comments to editors@inc.com.

The Art of the Net

Best of the Web You can shop for art in cyberspace, but does it make sense? Eighteen CEOs scout sites offering everything from Picasso originals to basic frames As the manager of a new office in San Francisco last year, Richard Ogden drew the assignment of decorating the space. His employer, Quidnunc, an E-commerce consultancy based in London, provided $5,000 for artwork. Ogden, a musician by training, didn’t know much about buying art, so he went online. He zipped to NextMonet.com, perused its offerings of original paintings, and created his own virtual “gallery” of works that he thought might jibe with Quidnunc’s style. NextMonet.com, one of several Web sites that market art to businesses, concentrates on works by contemporary artists. If Ogden’s budget had been far larger, he might have checked out Fine Art Lease’s site, which features original Picassos and Pissarros that companies can buy or lease. Or if Ogden had been hunting simply for vintage van Gogh and Matisse prints or posters, he could have turned to Art.com. In addition to actual art, these Web companies typically market framing, matting, and installation services, as well as art consulting. These sites are, of course, businesses themselves, aiming for a slice of the burgeoning corporate-art market, though all of them seek individuals as customers as well. They vary as widely in their content and character as the products they sell. Artsourceonline.com, for example, is the Web arm of ArtSource, based in New Berlin, Wis. It was founded in 1990 as a mail-order catalog, the sales from which still account for part of its $3 million in revenues. At the other extreme is start-up NextMonet.com, based in San Francisco; leading Web investor CMGI owns 38% of the company. Unlike ArtSource, which displays art on its site but urges customers to contact the company by E-mail or telephone, NextMonet.com is set up to consummate its sales online. But Ogden, for one, didn’t buy over the Net. He chose to visit NextMonet’s headquarters, which happened to be down the block from Quidnunc’s. During the six weeks that followed, NextMonet dispatched representatives to the Quidnunc office to measure walls and observe the light. Eventually, Ogden bought six $600 abstract paintings by Derrick Buisch. By posting Quidnunc’s preliminary selections on NextMonet’s virtual gallery, Ogden made it easy for other Quidnunc employees and NextMonet representatives to weigh in with opinions and scope out alternatives. Shopping on the Web saved Ogden from having to browse galleries from New York to Paris. But if you go online in search of art for your company, which site would serve you best? To guide your search, Inc. asked 18 small-business chief executives to review five Web sites that sell art to companies. The panelists differed widely on which sites they liked and didn’t like, based on their tastes and needs. Which site is right for you? Read on. www.art.com What it’s good for: Prints and posters of well-known artists and genres. The CEOs generally lauded Art.com’s framing and matting services, as well as its pricing. “Simple, recognizable prints at a decent price,” said one CEO. Don’t waste your time if: You want paintings. Asked if he’d return to the site, one CEO replied, “Maybe for reasonably priced prints.” What our CEOs had to say: Another reviewer reflected the consensus of his fellow panelists when he said that judging Art.com in relation to Fine Art Lease, for example, was “like comparing a poster outlet store in a mall to a fine art gallery.” What you ought to know: The site’s parent company, $248-million Getty Images, based in Seattle, provides digital images to such customers as publishers and graphic designers. In light of how well Art.com scored with our CEOs, it’s noteworthy that Getty Images considers Art.com a sales channel primarily for reaching consumers rather than businesses. www.artsourceonline.com What it’s good for: Browsing for posters and “understanding different looks and treatments,” in the view of one CEO. Don’t waste your time if: You want a 100% online transaction. Many of our panelists were miffed that most items were unaccompanied by listed prices. “The service generally requires you to add a piece to a personalized gallery, which requires registration, then forces you to request a quote,” said one reviewer. “Too much trouble to go through for the generic Jimmy Dean poster I was looking at.” What our CEOs had to say: Several lauded the site’s setup, which lets the user point to paintings according to price bracket. But they said other aspects of the site’s search function needed work. “I could see all fine art between $751 and $1,500,” one said, “but if I limited the search further, I was likely to get a goose egg on the results.” What you ought to know: The absence of pricing on some sections of the site is intentional. ArtSource sells to many wholesalers, and it doesn’t want to intimidate them by posting the more expensive retail prices conspicuously on the Web. www.fineartlease.com What it’s good for: Leasing, leasing with an option to buy, or outright purchasing of renowned paintings, photographs, sculpture, and drawings. “I really like the idea of being able to lease a piece of nice and expensive art,” said one CEO. Don’t waste your time if: Leasing gives you the creeps. The reviewers liked the concept, but none said they’d actually do it. “I can’t imagine leasing a $200K painting,” noted one. “If I wanted it enough, I’d buy it.” What our CEOs had to say: Ironically, the only site of the five that offers original Picassos was considered “boring” to look at. “Fine Art Lease gave me sort of a foreboding feeling … dark colors … not much help,” one CEO explained. What you ought to know: According to Fine Art Lease chairman and CEO Ian Peck, the company’s average work costs $35,000. To lease a $35,000 work for three years would cost $690 a month, which might explain why our panel found leasing appealing only in theory. www.nextmonet.com What it’s good for: Affordable work by up-and-coming artists. Even one of the most critical CEOs said, “I felt as though there was art I liked at a price I would pay.” Don’t waste your time if: You need answers right away about frames, since the site refers inquiries to its network of framers all over the United States. “I didn’t find the framing options when you purchase a piece, which is important,” said one CEO. A few panelists wished the site had different search criteria, since they wanted to view artwork by movement (impressionism, for instance) rather than by medium (say, sculpture). What our CEOs had to say: The site was well organized and good-looking. What you ought to know: NextMonet.com’s specialty is original contemporary art. Don’t shop there if you’re looking for a print of your favorite Rembrandt. www.visualize.com What it’s good for: Specific information on how businesses should buy art. “Great for the corporate user,” one of the panelists said. “It’s like having your own corporate interior designer.” There is, in fact, a specific area of the site devoted to the corporate user. Don’t waste your time if: You want something by someone famous. Like NextMonet.com, Visualize showcases its own troupe of artists. What our CEOs had to say: The site is presented very effectively and offers great information. It’s not too flashy but is clearly navigable and easy to understand. What you ought to know: Visualize has a rental program; monthly rates range from $25 to $60 for a piece of artwork. The Bottom Line Receiving the most laurels were Art.com and Visualize, each of which scored well in every category. However, the three CEOs who reviewed both sites liked Visualize a little better, singling out portions of the site that catered specifically to business buyers. NextMonet.com and ArtSource Online rated about the same, but the former generally received more enthusiastic comments. Fine Art Lease brought up the rear, despite its seemingly business-friendly leasing options. The CEOs didn’t burn with desire for the site’s crÈme de la crÈme collection, and they found the art too expensive even as a rental. Ilan Mochari is a reporter at Inc. The savvy entrepreneur’s guide to the art Web Would our CEOs go back? What is the site good for? CEOs’ quick take www.art.com “Yes, for specific personal art.” “Prints from known artists and genres.” “Quick, easy, enjoyable.” www.artsourceonline.com “Maybe.” “To browse posters.” “Not possible to browse and buy in a single session.” www.fineartlease.com “No.” “To lease a piece of nice and expensive art.” “Not my style — can’t imagine leasing a $200K painting.” www.nextmonet.com “Just out of curiosity.” “Possible discovery of new artists.” “I didn’t find the framing options.” www.visualize.com “You bet.” “Corporate programs and options.” “Very good; I like it.” Grading the Sites Ease of navigation Inventory Content Reliability Framing/ ancillary services Pricing Something you’d pay for? Average grade art.com B+ B B B+ A- A- B+ B+ artsourceonline.com B B- B- B B- C+ C- B- fineartlease.com B- C C+ B C+ C- D+ C nextmonet.com B B- C+ B+ C B C- B- visualize.com B B A- A- B+ B B+ B+ Our Panelists Terry Benish, president and CEO, Purple Solutions Jeffrey S. Davis, CEO and chairman, Mage Bryan Desloge, CEO, TMC Medical Don Epperson, president, HookMedia Julio Gomez, CEO, Gomez Advisors Sam Goodner, founder, Catapult Systems Pamela Hawken, president and CEO, Gardenside Samuel B. Kellett Jr., founder, president, and CEO, eAttorney.com Brent M. Kleinheksel, CEO and founder, PlanetPortal Jack Littman-Quinn, CEO, OneCore Michelle Lubow, CEO, Design One Bret McElfish, CEO, McElfish + Co. Spencer Newman, CEO, AdventurousTraveler.com Bill Oxford, CEO, The Oxford Group Gary G. Pan, CEO and founder, Panacea Consulting Claude Pope, president and CEO, Office Supply Solutions Dennis Scheyer, president and creative director, Scheyer/SF Steve Warren, owner, Katzinger’s Deli Please e-mail your comments to editors@inc.com.

The Incredible Shrinking Web Site

Remember the “level playing field” theory of the Web? How in cyberspace size didn’t matter because even the most picayune start-up could conceal its lack of heft by developing a sleek Web site? Well, big, it seems, is no longer so beautiful. Now that vast infusions of capital are blowing up many dot-coms to unimaginable proportions, some newcomers to the scene are trying to distinguish themselves by taking the opposite approach: good things, they’re announcing, come in small packages. Exhibit A: DrsFosterSmith.com, a pet-product E-tailer based in Rhinelander, Wis. The site’s name implies that it’s a specialty store on the Web. And to be fair, two true-blue veterinarians did start the business 17 years ago. But this is no modest enterprise — it’s an online superstore run by an $80-million catalog company. The good doctors’ strategy is to marry the best aspects of being big (thousands of products; a 24-hour call center; quick, cheap shipping) with the homegrown benefits of being small (customer intimacy, superior service). And the site assures customers that cofounders Race Foster and Marty Smith, along with three other vets, “personally select or approve every product.” According to Foster, the positioning provides the company with an edge over large, venture-backed competitors like Pets.com and Petopia.com. “We deliberately wanted to be real people — we felt that was our marketing advantage,” he says. Exhibit B: HomeTownStores.com, based in Quincy, Mass. Bob Curry, who owns two Ace Hardware franchises, founded the company with his son and another young entrepreneur. Though he pals around with Web scions like Garage.com founder Guy Kawasaki, Curry has taken pains to brand his business as having the gestalt of a corner store. Yet no corner store shares Curry’s ambitions. His site, which started out selling tools and hardware, now offers 58,000 products, ranging from blankets to chocolates, and has many of the amenities of huge Web sites. Yet its folksy motto is “We run a darn good store, and we’re glad you’re here.” “In my hardware stores we give away free popcorn,” says Curry. “We can’t do that on the Web, but we can bring that philosophy here.” To that end, Curry has invested thousands of dollars in technology that allows virtual salesclerks to greet browsing customers. “I don’t want this to seem like a megamall but like a bunch of village stores,” he says. Why the mania to miniaturize? “If a business shows a proclivity to have a relationship, people will feel magnetized to it,” says Jay Conrad Levinson, author of the Guerrilla Marketing books. “There are smart ways to warm up what is otherwise a cold, impersonal relationship.”