Hey everyone,
I’ve been watching a show called “Million Pound Menu” on Netflix, which is just about watchable as a show but has been endlessly fascinating from a business and authorship perspective.
You see, the whole purpose of the show is to bring on innovative and talented chefs from around the UK and see if any of the show’s investors like them enough to fund their first restaurants.
Sort of like when an agent shops around an author’s book to see if any publisher will put their money into it.
The parallels have been interesting to note. Here are some lessons I’ve picked up:
1. Talent is a given in our industry.
It’s never just about how good you are at your art (the food, the writing). You don’t get million-pound investments in your restaurant or six-and-seven-figure book deals because you have talent. Talent is the price of entry. Without it you don’t even get to be in the room. But once you are in the room, a number of different things need to be considered. And none of them revolve around your talent as a writer.
2. Investors aren’t looking for a reason to say yes.
They’re looking for reasons to say no.
3. The real winner isn’t always the person with the biggest investment.
Winners don’t always win. Losers don’t always lose. Two women who won a £1 million pound investment in their restaurant are now, eighteen months later, in full-time jobs. The guy on the same episode who didn’t win any investment is running a food stall and cooking the food he loves. The real winner is not always the person with the biggest investment; it’s the person who gets to do what they love.
4. The deal is simply the first step.
A deal—whether a book deal or investment in your restaurant—is only the first step in a very long process that requires dedication, hard work, and the learning of even more new skills. The deal is not the end of the process, it’s the beginning.
5. Your execution is just as, if not more, important as your idea.
6. If it’s not completely right, it’s utterly wrong.
Most artists want a deal, any deal. This is a mistake. You should never take a deal unless it’s the right deal.
7. Know when to take advice and when to ignore it.
Investors, publishers, experts—these people don’t know everything, so don’t allow them to dictate your destiny. But don’t be so foolish as to think they don’t recognize talent and have an immense knowledge of industry either.
8. Art is a business (unless you plan to make no money from it).
You either make money for your investors or you lose them money. If they think you’re not going to make them money, they’re not going to fund your restaurant or your book, no matter how much they love it.
9. A good mentor will save you years of heartache and costly mistakes.
Having a mentor in the industry, who has connections, who understands how things work, and who has helped other people through the process you’re going through is priceless.
This last point is so important that I want to riff on it a little more. Especially because most writers I know—and I talk to hundreds through this website, my newsletter, and my courses at any given time—treat this almost as an afterthought. They do not understand that access to a mentor can not only cut their learning curve by years and decades, but that by learning from a mentor who is playing at a higher level, they become part of a different game altogether.
When you work with someone who is used to getting their clients six- and seven-figure book deals, you learn how to present yourself in a way that attracts editors who pay those sums.
In the journalism world, I’ve been doing this for years now—teaching my students how to come up with ideas and write pitches that get them $1-a-word assignments. When you work with me, you don’t have to start with $100 blog posts and pretend that this rate is in any way acceptable.
The same is true in the book world, the business world, or any other world that you want to be a part of.
If you want to play the million-dollar game, then you need to hang out with million-dollar players.
And that’s possibly the best tip of them all.
Cheers,
Natasha