Similarly, Bostic knew from the get-go that he would eventually sell American Photo Group to a major photographic company. In 1987 Eastman Kodak fulfilled his prophecy. "If it isn't worth anything to anybody else, why put your time into it?" reasons Bostic. "The real freedom and security come from cashing in your equity."
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Can I live with the risk? The decision to start a company is more fragile, and more gradual, than it looks. Don't read too much into your own hesitation; there's no obvious correlation between your fears and the likelihood of your company's success. "You always have doubts," assures Bostic. Hawken takes it a step further: "The best entrepreneurs are risk avoiders. They identify the risk, and then they take actions to minimize the effects of it."
Indeed, often people who start companies do so not because they thrive on risk, as the stereotypes would have it, but because they see starting their own business as the lesser of risks. "Risk today is working at a big company and getting on the treadmill and waiting until somebody pulls the plug and says, 'Hop off,' " claims Bostic, who was fired as second-in-command at two public companies. "I'm not cut out for that."
Brad Stribling, too, felt like a misfit. As the youngest account executive at a large Dallas ad agency, at age 24 he had a future that looked positively radiant. But feeling that his own ideas were being smothered, he jumped to a smaller firm. Even more disillusioned, he began to think -- and think again -- about starting his own business. "I struggled with the idea of leaving," says Stribling, now 36. "I wondered whether I was smart enough to pull it off; I worried about how much I was going to worry. I knew people who were in business for themselves, and they seemed possessed. I didn't feel that way. I did not have an overwhelming, driving desire." Stribling, then 29, canvassed some of the entrepreneurs he knew -- a time-consuming 75 of them, in fact -- to get their reading on whether he had the right stuff. "They were all very positive about what a good idea it was," he recalls.
Stribling's first venture, from 1985 to 1987, ultimately fizzled out. But he knew by then any stint working for somebody else would be short-lived. "Even if you have a bad experience, you want to go back and prove you can do it," he says. In 1988 Stribling founded the Marketing Group, now a $4-million Dallas marketing firm.
Sensible entrepreneurs are bound to feel doubts, even if they can't always acknowledge them. But the growing number of middle managers out of work lately may produce entrepreneurs who feel forced into starting their own companies. "I was a reluctant entrepreneur," confesses 52-year-old Andy Morrow, whose company sells detergent to commercial launderers. Morrow had spent 21 years at consumer-products giant Procter & Gamble when the division he ran was sold, back in 1982. He and 26 out of 28 of his colleagues followed the subsidiary to its new home at a huge holding company. Morrow was president of the subsidiary and as early as 1985 began lobbying for a profit-based compensation system. "I worked extremely hard to put the company on its feet," he complains.
His pleas were ignored -- "that got my dander up," he says. Eventually, his frustration over the holding company's unresponsiveness led him to resign in February 1989; the division was sold 10 months later. Even before stepping down, he had talked to his wife, his brother-in-law, and various business acquaintances about starting a competing company.
One question loomed: "Was I willing to risk all the money it took me 27 years to accumulate? It was a big deal."
Unable to answer and armed with $1 million in savings, Morrow figured he could spend as long as a year "debating it in my mind." But the week he resigned, he recalls, "a number of people called me and said, 'If you do anything on your own, we want to come with you.' That accelerated my thinking." Six weeks later he filed the incorporation papers for Washing Systems Inc.
A noncompete agreement prevented Morrow from selling to his former employer's accounts until May 1990. The day it expired, he recalls, "I was like a boxer climbing through the ropes and into the ring." In 1989 Washing Systems had less than $200,000 in revenues; by 1991 the company was posting sales of several million dollars. "I've gone through a lot of heartache and a lot of anxiety," Morrow says. "But I never regretted it. Still, if my employer had been willing to discuss remuneration and had not gotten involved in a possible sale, I probably wouldn't have thought of leaving."
Just as men like Morrow start companies -- and more and more of them will do so in the coming years -- because they no longer feel welcome in the big-company environment, so do increasing numbers of women who find it impossible to crack the so-called glass ceiling. Barbara Lambesis says, "I had never imagined I would want to operate my own business," but grew more and more dissatisfied "that I was not able to call my own shots. My advice was not requested and not heeded." In 1986, when her son earned a football scholarship, she suddenly found herself with $20,000 in savings. "I wasn't really ready to leave the corporate or institutional world, but the money gave me a very interesting opportunity," says the president of Marketing Methods, a Phoenix firm that provides services to entrepreneurs. "I'm finally working for someone I respect." Lambesis, who spent only $7,500 starting up, expects sales of more than $200,000 in fiscal 1992.
Of course, some entrepreneurs have more on the line financially than others do. The former owner of a four-passenger plane, a 37-foot yacht, and three country-club memberships, Morrow had stashed away some $500,000 that he and his wife agreed he would never touch. Few company founders can soften their risks with such padding. But going into ventures, a surprising number do follow the advice most parents dole out to their artsy kids: have a fallback plan. The reason goes beyond alleviating the stress. You can't make the boldest moves with your business if you feel you can't afford to be wrong.
