How to pay for the photography, designs, printing, marketing support, much less a staff and office??? I put up $150,000 from the sale of my first business, and vowed to take sweat equity in lieu of salary for Cardthartic’s first four years. My two sisters gambled $20,000 each. It was a start!

Over the next six months, came a friend since kindergarten, a college roommate, a former colleague, a client from my PR days, a guy I used to date and his new girlfriend, too. Progress! It was a big day when Randy Moore, the printer friend of a friend of my late father back in central Illinois, agreed to let us run a $15,000 tab for a small share of our new venture. Randy was what I considered a “value-added” investor, offering the ongoing product development and small business counsel, I suspected he would and has. Very cool!

Then one Sunday morning I woke with the very strong sense that I should not wait another minute to read the Chicago Tribune because there I’d find someone who would become a key Cardthartic investor. Sure enough, a story on “Life After Advertising” featured Leo Burnett’s former Vice Chairman and Chief Operating Officer, Jack Kraft, who, the story said, “took early retirement to focus more on funding and fostering the start-ups he so enjoyed.” Woo-hoo!

Best cold-call I ever made, four days later Jack came to Cardthartic’s new Chicago office overlooking the L platform in River North. I showed him the PASSAGES prototypes, he sat back and advised, “I wouldn’t publish those.” Why, I asked? “Too much like Hallmark,” he declared. “Better,” I countered in true entrepreneurial form (i.e., equal parts ignorance and arrogance!) The man who should have known better took out his checkbook and made a $60,000 investment in Cardthartic. At the time he said, “Use it wisely and well,” and has served as my valued mentor, biggest fan and harshest critic ever since.

To any would-be business owner, I would be quick to advise: Until you have your sea legs, make it a priority to seek out wise, generous, been-there-done-that folks like Randy and Jack. Even (or maybe especially) when they try to convince you that they know best, it tests your belief in your own instincts and convictions. If, against their better judgment, you still feel inclined to “do it anyway,” it’s because you reaaalllllyyyy believe in what you propose. And that’s a good feeling to have.