he stakes and risks are high, but it's not gambling -- at least not the kind that relies solely on chance. It's the esoteric but exciting world of venture capitalists that Portola Valley author Ruthann Quindlen sheds light on in a new book.
It's a field she knows something about. Ms. Quindlen, a computer industry veteran, is a venture capitalist and partner at Institutional Venture Partners (IVP) in Menlo Park.
From her early involvement in the computer industry during the 1970s, Ms. Quindlen championed both Microsoft and America Online before those companies were on the tips of other pundits' tongues.
Since 1994, she's been a partner at IVP, where she focuses on investments in Internet and software companies, and she serves on the boards of several fledgling companies including Digital Impact, Hear Me, Face Time, Portera Systems, and Time Hub. She also led the IVP investments in iGo and The Lightspan Partnership.
Like many other a player, Ms. Quindlen has signed on as a commentator on her area of expertise. In her book, "Confessions of a Venture Capitalist," she tells not-quite-all about life on Sand Hill Road, portraying her VC compatriots as hard-working investors who are experts at creating value for investors above all else.
"Our goal is simple: to help the entrepreneur build a great company," she writes. "View us as partners rather than as competitors or antagonists."
A blend of Silicon Valley insider history and self-help capitalist gospel, Quindlen's book is designed, she says, for laypeople who want to understand what kind of decisions are made at large VC firms, and how to benefit from their logic.
"Don't let your mouth make a promise your ass can't keep," she writes at one point. To her credit, as one of the most respected investors in Silicon Valley, she backs up her words with plenty of experience. Before becoming a VC, she was a banker who played a key role in getting America Online (AOL) underwritten, and she worked on the initial public offerings for Broderbund, Electronic Arts (ERTS) and Microsoft (MSFT).
She's also lived up to the "venture" part of the venture capitalist title, making many mistakes and missteps, as well. She sees Silicon Valley's growth and Sand Hill Road's position at its epicenter as a confluence of chance and circumstance.
"I think we're where we are today because Stanford started a local technical revolution, and people's energies were drawn to the place where things were happening," says Ms. Quindlen, who has an MBA from Wharton and a bachelor's in economics from Georgetown. "It was a natural thing, an evolution. I don't see anything mystical about it."
As one of the relatively few and very high-profile women in the VC biz, Ms. Quindlen admits, "Sometimes you don't feel completely like part of the club," but says women are making more inroads into the VC fields as they become more comfortable with technology, a traditionally male-dominated field.
She also welcomes "newbie" investors into the fold. "The Internet revolution is still in its early stages," she says from her office at 3000 Sand Hill Road. "There are still tremendous opportunities for outside investors, and you shouldn't feel left out. The party isn't over."
And how should a tech innocent go about starting a portfolio? "Read the book," she says. "I don't give specific advice, but the stories about the market and the general principles there give you a good idea of how to gauge a company, and good things to measure when you are considering an investment."
For Ms. Quindlen, the game is technology; and for the rest of us, who are affected by the investments she makes, her stories of life on Sand Hill Road are valuable for more than purely economic reasons.
