The Entrepreneur: JJ Hornblass, 38
Background: Hornblass, a former reporter with trade publication American Banker, found there was an underserved market in banking information and decided to leave his job and start a publication serving that niche.
The Company: In 1995 Hornblass launched Royal Media Group. Originally conceived as a subscription newsletter company, the New York financial services publisher has weathered the ups and down in the banking world by adapting to the changing market, and today produces six magazines, three annual conferences, and two industry blogs, BankNet360.com and CollectionTechnology.net.
Revenues: $2 million in 2007
His Story: "O.K., count me in," Ken said, finally.
"That's great," I answered. "We'll send you a formal e-mail. I'll be in touch in a few weeks to go over the details."
"Sounds good," Ken said.
And that was that. Another day, another phone call, another fleeting moment in the life of Royal Media Group, the company I started in 1995. But the call was anything but average. Ken is Ken Alverson, a vice-president at First Manhattan Consulting Group, arguably the finest banking consultancy in the nation, and he had just agreed to co-chair our upcoming conference on risk management in automotive finance. This was a big deal for us. It was our first conference, and Ken's involvement would enhance the event's educational value. After I hung up the phone, I realized we had won one and should celebrate the victory. It was a turning point. It finally dawned on me I hadn't celebrated enough—not on my own and not with my employees. We entrepreneurs, we celebrate too infrequently.
I can't say learning to celebrate has been an easy lesson. When I first started Royal Media we focused on the banking industry. I worked out of the second floor of the warehouse of my grandmother's business, Royal Lamp Lighting Company. I had big dreams; you can't be an entrepreneur without them. I wanted to make a big company—whatever that meant—and I was willing to work hard to do it. I usually slept in the office at least one night a week, and I did everything—reporting, writing, editing, layout, marketing, accounting, customer service, office cleanup, circulation, kvetching, you name it. We launched three newsletters in our first three years. We were on our way.
Then it turned on me. Our first publication served the mortgage industry, and in 1998 the Russian liquidity crisis sent that industry into a tailspin. We were faced with our first decline in subscription revenue. As I scrambled to return us to sound footing, I started to feel down. I didn't want my company to just survive, but soar. Well, forget that; we were going in the other direction. It was our first real test. I remember looking at our monthly sales data some time in 1999 and noticing the decline in our subscriptions had stopped. I felt such relief. Was that a business victory? Well, by many calculations it was not. There were no cheers to be heard. In fact, we didn't achieve anything great. Simply the bleeding had ceased. In retrospect, I wish I had called my team together and broken out a bottle of champagne. Instead, what did I do? Nothing.
Over the years, success has come in odd and often hidden forms. I look back and realize simple things such as installing our server, changing our phone system, hiring a new person, putting in a cheap project-management system, documenting some of the things we do, changing a word in a marketing piece—these were all successes for Royal Media. Why? Because they made us better, and sometimes to a greater degree than I realized at the time. Someone give us a high-five.
A couple of years after that mortgage-driven fright we started to produce industry conferences. We figured it out as we went.