Invent It, Sell It, Bank It!: Make Your Million-Dollar Idea Into a Reality (9 page)

Stories abound of inventors using everyday materials from home, like cardboard, clay, foam, wood, and disassembled household products, to create precursors to prototypes—called mock-ups—that test their designs and ensure they actually work. Rick Hopper created models of his magnetized glasses holder by bending paper clips into various shapes and experimenting with different-strength magnets. The creators of the Drop Stop experimented with multiple types of stuffing and stitching before deciding upon the final design of their invention. I wanted to be sure my design would work the way I thought it would before committing to the expense of a prototype. How hard could it be? All
I needed to do was cut a few round rods and crossbars to size, drill a few holes, and my organizer would be complete. I even knew where I could get my hands on the right tools—a basement woodshop in rural Illinois that belonged to my husband’s grandfather. The problem was, being a city girl, though I had access to tools, I had no idea how to use them. I needed help. So I turned to my husband, Dan, who was extremely handy and had plenty of experience.

Do everything yourself, except when you absolutely can’t. Know when to ask for help or let the experts do their job.

I’ve gone on record saying that, in principle, inventors should do as much as possible themselves because it is cheaper than hiring everything out and, more important, the experience and expertise you gain sets you up much better for success later. With enough time, you can learn how to do anything. The problem is, of course, that some jobs are just out of our league; and when time is short, speed and efficiency sometimes need to take precedence over principle. In addition, if you’re going for the mass market, you’re eventually going to have to navigate certain rules regarding your industry. You’ll have to adhere to previously unknown safety regulations, and you have to learn about labeling for the American market, the European market, or whatever market you’re planning to sell to. Each has its own rules and regulations; they are not always one and the same. It’s unlikely you have the training to deal with that on your own. Even if you were capable of making your product on your own in large enough quantities to fulfill mass orders, you wouldn’t want to be forced to stop selling because you didn’t research and comply with the laws governing the manufacture or use of your product.

Whenever you do ask someone to take over a job, make sure to stay close to the process and learn as much as possible. Shadow the person you hire, if you can. Talk with the individual, watch, and listen so that by the time the person is done, you are on your way to becoming an expert in this area, too. As long as you take the opportunity to educate yourself, any money you spend on hiring experts to help or advise you will be well spent.

Dan and I drove to his grandfather’s woodshop together. I hovered nearby as he cut the wood according to my specifications. He was patient, taking my nerves in stride. Parts cut, we assembled the organizer, and then I spent a long time attaching earrings to the rods and moving all the parts around to make sure that each piece worked the way I thought it should. Much to Dan’s chagrin, it didn’t work exactly right. The panels didn’t slide smoothly and there wasn’t enough room for all the different types of earrings a woman might have in her collection. So we started over from scratch. Hours later, at the end of the day, I finally had a crude but functional earring organizer that worked exactly the way I had envisioned.

It worked, but it wasn’t pretty. What materials was I going to use? I wasn’t an artisan craftsman handcrafting jewelry organizers to a select few; I wanted to make my product available to every woman who loved jewelry. So wood was out. Besides, all along I’d imagined that the organizer would be clear and sparkly. I’ve always loved the way light reflects off of crystal; if I could facet the sides, it might mimic that effect. And a clear material would match any setting, which was important because no woman was going to use an organizer that clashed with her décor. Glass would be too fragile and expensive, so obviously I was going to need to use plastic. But plastic might look cheap, and I wanted to create something beautiful. I kept thinking. What material is clear or neutral, durable, and relatively inexpensive? In the end,
it was my prototype maker who came up with the answer. He used Lucite to create my prototype, but he suggested that in the future, polystyrene would be the right material for the final product because it was a less expensive plastic, yet still water clear.

MAKING A PROTOTYPE

How do you find a prototype maker? Today, all you have to do is Google the word “prototype” and your city or state, and the Internet will offer you a list of prototype makers in your area. But this was 1996, so I pulled out the Yellow Pages and looked up “prototype makers.” Sure enough, there was more than one located in Chicago. But how was I supposed to choose?

As I would learn, all prototype makers are not alike. Each one specializes in fabricating products from a certain material. Some make products out of plastic, others out of metal, some out of wood, and others work with fabric and textiles, to name a few, so the first thing you need to find out is who makes prototypes out of the materials you need. Then pay a visit and interview the prototype maker. Ask to see models they have made, find out what they charge, and assess whether they are a good fit for you. Once you’re satisfied with the cost and quality of their product, and your
prototype maker has signed a nondisclosure agreement—very important if you have not already filed for a patent—you will hand over the design of your invention and they will refer to your specifications to create a functional model that you can use when conducting market research and giving pitches.

Any reputable prototype maker, manufacturer, or other company specializing in helping entrepreneurs and inventors bring new products to market should be willing to sign a nondisclosure agreement that forbids them to discuss, share, or otherwise use any part of your idea or design. If they refuse, walk away.

Earlier I mentioned that more and more inventors are working with CAD designers to create detailed and realistic designs of their product. Increasingly, your prototype maker will use a 3-D printer to create your model.
Rather than cut shapes out of materials and then assemble the parts the way traditional machines would, 3-D printers build up the product by putting down layers of materials—liquefied plastic, powdered metals, softened ceramic, or nylon, for example—
which is why another term for the process of building objects with 3-D printing is “additive manufacturing.” Just a few years ago, 3-D printing, used in rapid prototyping (RP), still seemed the realm of sci-fi, but it is rapidly going mainstream. One day, we may all be printing products on demand—including your invention, perhaps—with the same ease and convenience as we print our documents at home. For now, though, CAD design and 3-D printing are still highly specialized processes, which require a lot of skill and training. A simple Google search will reveal that there are 3-D printers catering to small business owners and entrepreneurs located all across the country.

Even today $10,000 is considered a high price for a prototype. It’s unlikely yours will cost you anywhere near that much. The costs will vary widely, depending on your product’s size, shape, and the materials from which it is made.

My prototype wasn’t cheap. There are many types of prototypes,
each one representing various levels of sophistication and detail, but the kind I needed, and the one any new inventor intent on selling his or her idea will need, is called a “pre-production prototype.” It is essentially identical to the finished product, but is made using a one-off mold, which is a lot cheaper to pay for than a permanent mold. It cost me $10,000 to make.

Get your ducks in a row as soon as possible, so that when your orders start to come in, you’re ready to go. There are many other things you can get started on while waiting for your prototype to be made: contact retailers, look for manufacturing options, investigate your funding options, set your price, file for your patent and trademark. With the exception of the final two, nothing on this list will cost you anything but time, so you risk nothing.

Yet I was willing to spend the money, for I was sure that the more professionally made and beautiful my prototype, the easier it would be for people to fall in love with it and I would get the sales.

I hoped my prototype would be my ticket to those holiday sales I wanted. I could pre-sell with it. I could take it with me to stores to show to buyers. Whether they were the consumers I knew I’d have to poll for market research, or retail buyers selecting products for their customers, I wanted to make it as easy as possible for people to imagine the organizer on a woman’s dressing table. It would help me make sure people were willing to buy my invention and save me from making the worst mistake of my life. I had an incredibly strong gut instinct that I had a hero on my hands, but I wanted
to make sure my instincts were correct. Unsubstantiated enthusiasm would surely lead me to make a mistake, so I needed to do unbiased market research first.

My prototype maker’s suggestion that I make my invention out of polystyrene, and his additional advice that I might need something called an injection molder, sent me on my next research binge. I didn’t know the first thing about plastics, so I went back to the Yellow Pages and looked under “plastics.” And there was a list of companies that manufactured plastic in Chicago. This was a relief, because I’d already made up my mind that I was going to do what I could to work with local companies so that at all times I could keep a close eye on the production, packaging, and any other processes necessary to usher my product onto retail shelves. But aside from “plastics,” there were other words staring up at me from those business directory pages. Thermoforming. Extrusion. It turned out there were different types of plastic manufacturing processes, and I was going to have to figure out which one I needed. It seemed as if every time I got one question answered, ten more popped up. Methodically, I started researching, reading, and making calls to educate myself about what I would need to do to bring my product to life. And sure enough, my prototype maker was right: I needed an injection molder, a factory that mass-produces products by using large machines to inject liquefied plastic into molds.