I keep coming across articles these past few weeks about old business dying (aka going bankrupt) while new business (aka startup style companies) thrive by using the play book the now-bankrupt business once used. I saw it play out a bit in fintech, entertainment, and healthcare.

Side note: The first article was inspired from a friend who forwarded it. If you ever have something worth sharing, please do!

Access to capital from your subscribers and the banks

Patreon will now give creators cash advances on their subscription money - The Verge

Cash advances hit the digital age.

Patreon, the site creators love because it helps them make money off their work, has started a program called Patreon Capital, which grants micro-loans to creators. It’s essentially a cash advance: you get money now in exchange for some of your future earnings plus a small premium. It’s different from Patreon’s usual business — which is enabling direct subscriptions to people whose work you like, then taking a cut off the top — but it will diversify the company’s revenue, which should make Patreon a more sustainable business.

This article came from a friend who forwarded this piece. What's interesting from it is this:

Patreon will generally be focused on creators who have a track record in developing solid followings on its platform. ... As a matter of risk mitigation, the Patreon revenues of another Multitude show, Join the Party, will be taken as collateral if Next Stop isn’t able to generate enough return to fully pay Patreon back after the two year period.

The two year payback period assumes a high interest rate on the cash advance capital IMO. What happens if the show doesn't pan out? What happens if the revenues are lower than forecasted?

Patreon Capital is very similar to Shopify Capital, Stripe Capital, Square Capital, etc. Basically find a base of people who need cash and deliver it, while also getting it back in novel ways (i.e a portion of future revenues).

New gigs means new rhythms of schedules

When Ms. Reindl got her start, network series had 24 episodes or more a season. The typical TV writer’s schedule looked something like this: Get hired by May or June, write furiously for most of the year, and then take a six-week hiatus before the process started again.

The seasonal rhythms that had been in place for TV writers since the days of “I Love Lucy” started to change more than two decades ago, when cable outlets put out 13-episode seasons of shows like HBO’s “The Sopranos” and, later, AMC’s “Mad Men.”

Streaming platforms have revised that model further: eight-episode seasons of Netflix’s “Stranger Things” and Disney Plus’s “The Mandalorian”; six-episode seasons of Amazon Prime Video’s “Fleabag”; three- and six-episode batches of Netflix’s “Black Mirror.” Cable has replied in kind, offering fewer than 12-episode runs of shows like “Atlanta” on FX and “Silicon Valley” on HBO.

Here's the kicker with these new formats:

But the medium’s shorter seasons and unpredictable cadences have made it harder for writers in Hollywood’s middle class to plot out a year’s work in a way that doesn’t leave them nervous when mortgage payments are due.

(Link)

Revamping its small group of health clinics was the next step. A decade ago, in-store retail clinics were all the rage, promising to handle less acute situations such as flu shots and sore throats while also boosting sales of prescriptions and over-the-counter drugs. But the cramped clinics, staffed by nurse practitioners, never generated enough business to cover their fixed costs, and drew the ire of the American Medical Association, which argued they delivered subpar service. Six years after opening its first “Care Clinic,” Walmart has just 19 in three states. “If you have pink eye, clinics are great. But they don’t really do anything to address the broader health-care needs of people in the community,” says Marcus Osborne, Walmart’s vice president for health and wellness transformation. “You’re not helping someone who’s diabetic. It’s a very limited kind of value.”