Over the last six months, our household—and honestly, the entire nation—has felt like it’s been driving over hundreds of speed bumps in a car with 1980s suspension. We’ve been bounced up and down, rattled around, and had every nut and bolt shaken loose on this little trusty vehicle we’ve built—one that’s carried us through years of refining our life, work, and art.

We’ve started businesses, raised pets and plants, cycled through jobs, and gained and lost people. So where am I going with all this? I guess I’m just pausing to share a few of the major speed bumps we’ve hit recently—personally and professionally—and to offer a glimpse under the hood at what life looks like at the Martin house.

Over the last 3 months I’ve been tirelessly attempting to build a company, a game, and everything that goes with it. This is no small feat. If you ever get a chance to talk to a business owner, ask them about the first year of incorporating, and I bet they’ll have some stories for you.

So, what’s this article about? It’s about the importance of finding not just product-market fit — that’s easy! (Just kidding.) But seriously, there’s already so much coverage on that topic. What people don’t talk about enough is having a team that fits your product.

Here’s a rough idea of how I prepare for a standard PM interview. First, the foundation: I’ve read Cracking the PM Interview, Decode and Conquer, and Interview Math probably 10 times each. Not exaggerating. I initially bought them to prep for what I thought were the most challenging interviews of my life—Google, Meta, Amazon. Haven’t made it to final rounds yet (ouch), but the prep made me a better PM regardless.

How I stay grounded during economic uncertainty

If you're in the U.S. (or anywhere, really) and feeling anxious about the economy—you're not alone.

Lately, something I say to myself almost every day is:

“Your mental health is more important than your financial health.”

Because when your mind isn’t steady, your decision-making—especially around money—starts to fall apart.
The truth is, poor mental health leads to poor financial choices. I’ve lived that truth more than once.

Here’s your blog post with the relevant links embedded cleanly in the text:

Ok, so I’m pretty sure most of you here really want to know how to pitch something. I’m currently starting the pitch process for a game we’re developing, so I figured I’d write down how I go about this and how I’ve been taught to do it by mentors over the years.

After about a year of "fuck this shit, I’m done" energy and trying to manage my anxiety in a healthier way, I’ve got some stories to share.

So, rewind to this time last year: I hadn’t been on a plane in like 7 years (maybe more), hadn’t stayed in a hotel much — especially not for long, and definitely not by myself. I wasn’t doing anything particularly physically demanding. I was petrified when I went to SF for GDC last year (so many people!), and generally just didn’t love being around large crowds. I was afraid of a lot of stuff. So yeah, basically, a bit of a wreck.

And I hit a breaking point. I don’t like being like that. I’m actually super outgoing, I love to travel, I love doing fun things — I am not built for the anxious lifestyle. I’m sure other anxious folks feel similarly, but I’ll just speak for myself.

So here we are, a full year later. What happened?

If you’ve worked in tech or games over the past 10 years, you’ve probably heard someone drop the phrase “Zero to One” — yeah, that one, from Peter Thiel’s book. I’ve always felt like there’s a big missing piece in that framework.

See, most of that book is about what it takes to launch a product or company — and don’t get me wrong, that’s cool and helpful and very Silicon Valley. But for people like me, who start lots of projects from literally nothing, the hardest part isn’t launch. It’s getting from idea soup to something real enough to work with. I call this phase Zero to 0.5. Halfway to somewhere.

So here’s what I did today, because why not? I went underneath our gross bed, which is literally full of dog and cat hair, and started cleaning. Because, obviously, with all my spare time, I needed some serotonin-boosting cleaning energy to dust off both my brain (and the bedroom).

Then I discovered the archives of my pre-internet era. WOAAAAAH. Yes, back in ancient times—before digital cameras—we used to use chemicals to make images. We took these chemical tubes (also called film) to a place that developed them, 24-36 shots at a time. Then we waited for our pictures.

Literally. I think this is why some generations have more patience than others. We never saw our pictures for days after we took them. Sometimes weeks, if we forgot to pick them up. Now it’s instant—and almost instantly uploaded to the internet.

Anyway, I found these amazing archives and, of course, because I love organizing, I started making little piles. I separated them by era:
- One pile was high school/college
- Another was early career (SF life)
- And then the early dating (first met Heather) times ❤️

If you know, you know. Those three words can instantly deflate any excitement after a quick scan of an email. At times, a subject line can be misleading, sparking a glimmer of hope—only to be extinguished when you open the message. What does it mean when you spend day after day reading endless automated rejection letters from applications you poured your heart into? Some of these applications included detailed interview responses that took hours to perfect, meticulously crafted cover letters, and extensive research before even clicking "submit." And yet, the outcome is the same: silence, or worse, another rejection without even a screening call.

"What is this guy talking about? Has he lost it completely?"

Maybe… lol. But hear me out.

If you remember 2005, think back to how we lived. How did we meet up with friends? How did we listen to music, watch movies, or get anywhere?

There were barely any smartphones. Blackberries were king. The iPhone didn’t exist yet. If you wanted to buy something, you went to a store. If you needed directions, you got lost and figured it out.

And somehow, we all survived.

I look back at that time fondly.

I know what you are all thinking, here he goes about pottery again…. no, actually the story doesn’t start with pottery or end there really, it starts with painting. Yes, the first form of artistic expression was painting. No, not finger painting! I wasn’t that young when I started art, no I was probably around 8 or 9 years old.

My parents had recently gotten divorced and I was getting bullied by my sister. I remember being upset that day so I painted a picture of how that made me feel. I remember my mom showed my sister this painting and my mom said, “look this is how you are making your brother feel!” and then my sister laughed at it (kids are so cruel to each other). Anyways, I kept painting. I mostly used acrylics. My mom spent most of her time hanging out with artists so I think some of that rubbed off on me. One of her closest friends at the time was a painter and maybe that’s why I started. Who knows.

2024, although turbulent professionally, was the year I became more focused and healthy than ever before. I want to share a story about my 2024 year in health, and hopefully, you can glean some insights on how to make 2025 your healthiest year yet.

For me, I really love fitness—probably to a fault. I lean on it when times are tough to help me cope with stress. I also lean on it when times are good as an excuse to get outside when the sun is shining, making it a healthy outlet. I love buying things, and I justify it with, “It’s for my health,” so I can purchase the latest running gear and tech. I also love signing up for gym memberships, eating healthy food, and the list goes on. You can see how this can become problematic if left unchecked, but I digress.

2024 was the year I was fed up. I entered 2024 unemployed, tired from yet another failed startup attempt, facing a very difficult job market, feeling lonely, nearly broke, and just completely worn down from everything that had happened over the years. It ends now! I said to myself. I was anxious, barely left the house, didn’t hang out with friends in person, had no hobbies, and lacked the energy for the ones I used to enjoy. I was just a husk of a man, barely managing to muster the energy to run in the mornings. I had this bug in me, and I was determined to squash it this year. I told myself that if I did nothing else in 2024 but overcome my anxiety and get my mental and physical health back on track, I would be perfectly content—even if I tried and failed miserably. So, here we go…

The year was 2019. I was in a stable job at a big insurance company, building and managing an app with a small team in their marketing department. I was a product manager and had been there for 2.5 years. I wasn’t making the most money I’d ever earned, but the job was fairly low stress, and as it needed to track the near-real-time location of our tow trucks when someone requested a service (similar to an app like DoorDash).

Why am I explaining all this? Well, 2019 was the year COVID-19 hit, disrupting my life and the lives of countless others across the world. The reason I’m writing this is because I found myself at a crossroads. I was pulled out of my normal, everyday decision-making routine and forced to make some really hard choices that would change my life forever. I want to share this story because, with a new president entering office in a week, I feel like I’m at another crossroads. Companies I once loved are turning sour and entering what we like to call in my house their “evil villain era.”

Anyway, I digress. This is not going to be a political post, but rather an exploration of what we do when dramatic shifts occur and how to manage them.

This is a love letter to hiring managers, recruiters, sourcers, headhunting firms, and, most importantly, all the job seekers out there relentlessly applying for opportunities. I want everyone reading this to rethink how we find great people and how we, as job seekers, present ourselves to those searching for the perfect fit for their teams.

This post is about a concept I’ve started putting into practice. My background isn’t conventional—short stints at small startups, no high school diploma, no college degree, and minimal formal training outside of work. Yet, I’ve managed to bootstrap my way to where I am today, thanks to the generosity of people who shared their time and knowledge to teach me new skills.

Unfortunately, the current job application process often overlooks people like me, especially at that critical first step. That’s part of the problem I hope to address here.

So, here we go—this post is for all of us to think differently about how we identify and showcase talent. It’s written by someone who’s switched jobs more times than I’d like to admit and has experienced this process many times from both sides of the table. Let’s challenge the norms and create a better way forward.

“Empty your cup so that it may be filled; become devoid to gain totality.” – Bruce Lee

This mantra has been my guide every time I meditate, and lately, it’s taken on a deeper meaning. Life threw some serious curveballs at me this past month, and I’ve been reflecting on how to navigate these challenges while staying on a path of self-improvement.

It’s been rough—I won’t sugarcoat it. When things get difficult, I remind myself: You’ve trained for this. It’s in the darkest moments that your true character and abilities are revealed. And while this month tested me in ways I wasn’t prepared for, it also helped me uncover the importance of “emptying the cup” and making space for growth.

When life gives you lemons, people say to make lemonade. But what if you end up with lemon soup? That’s what my career has felt like at times—too many unexpected ingredients, detours, and unplanned challenges. This blog is about the lessons I’ve learned along the way, the power of career storytelling, and how you can turn your lemon soup into a winning recipe.

Recently, I’ve been double-clicking on the feeling of “I’m curious about…” This has led to tremendous progress in self-discovery and purpose. I initially heard this concept in a podcast by Rich Roll, where he interviewed a man who’s been living out of his backpack for 5 years. He talked about his advice for people trying to understand more about their deeper purpose and discussed this feeling of curiosity and how we’ve forgotten how to sense it. This tends to happen after we hit adulthood and are on these “career” or “life tracks” prescribed by society or upbringing. He feels these tracks are misleading for most and don’t lead to happy, fulfilling lives. If you're interested, I highly recommend listening to the full episode: Rich Roll Podcast.

Being a Product Manager at a startup is no joke. There are countless books offering hypothetical scenarios and frameworks to navigate every situation, but these systems often fail to scale down to the startup size. They work well for larger organizations but rarely for startups. Why is that? Why is there no book detailing the day-to-day life of a founding PM and the unique challenges they face? Well, here I am, hopefully, to help you out.

If you, too, see endless "how to get product-market fit in 5 easy steps" posts on LinkedIn that are unhelpful while you're busy putting out a hundred different fires, I am here to help. Here are some key insights and rules for navigating the turbulent waters of being a founding PM at a startup.

What Does That Mean?

If there’s a bad vibe coming your way, knock that shit off. Do you, man. Do whatever the fuck makes your heart sing. Life is too short to spend it in grimace-faced situations, a prison of our own making. Why do you waste time doing shit you hate? Something is holding you back from being your best fucking vibe. Find that shit and destroy it.