Invention tension

It's an inventor's ultimate fantasy: turning their wacky creation -- the Fishy Feeder, the Spudwizz, the Bin-Ti -- into a household name.

Aiding in the treacherous process is the Inventors Society of Southern Nevada, a new club founded by local business consultant Penny Ballou.

"The idea is to help inventors patent their ideas," explains Ballou, who pens the Inventor's Journal newsletter and invites patent attorneys and craftsmen to speak to the group and serve as credible resources -- and warns them about other resources that are not so credible. "It's a very long process, and it requires a great degree of focus and persistence to climb all the obstacles -- and you're presented with a lot."

Among them, she says, are some invention marketing firms (which also operate locally) such as Invention Submission Corp. (ISC), Universal, Advent, and National Invention Services, which typically charge inventors fees from $800 up to the thousands in exchange for performing patent searches, filing applications with the U.S. Patent & Trademark Office and soliciting potential manufacturers.

The problem, Ballou says, is that the vast majority of inventors get little in exchange for their investments.

"They just rip off the inventors," she claims. "The average charge is $800 to $1,000, just to file a Document Disclosure Program (DDP), which is a $10 document and offers no protection," she says. "One 72-year-old woman, what she got for her $5,040, was a $10 document and some letters.

"A lot of these companies have their own finance companies," she adds. "So when people say, 'I can't afford the initial $1,000,' they say, 'don't worry, we'll finance you.' It's pretty squirmy."

Joanne Hayes-Rines, editor of Inventor's Digest magazine, says that it is estimated that only 3 percent to 5 percent of inventors ever make any money. Meanwhile, ISC has released figures admitting that of 5,537 clients in a two-year period, only 10 made more money than they paid in. "How can they defend a 1.8 success rate?" Hayes-Rines asks pointedly.

In 1993, the Federal Trade Commission filed a complaint against ISC for misrepresenting its success rates, and a whopping $1.2 million settlement was reached in 1994. And in July 1997, the FTC cracked down on several invention marketing firms nationwide in what was called Project Mousetrap, charging five with misrepresentation, FTC spokesman Howard Shapiro says.

"Because there's a lot more deception than our agency's abiltiy to get a handle on them, our consumer information programs are helpful in getting the word out to hopeful inventors that they should be wary and putting a dent in unscrupulous firms," he says. "You shouldn't fall for their promises unless they can back them up."

Michael Neustel, a Fargo, N.D., patent attorney who once was subcontracted by ISC to review inventors' patents, has formed a website (inventorfraud.com) called the "National Inventor Fraud Center," questioning the value inventors get in return for the pricey fees. "My main objection is they take anybody and everybody," he said. "There's no screening involved." He divides firms into "good guys" and "bad guys": "Good guys" screen clients and only take royalties from actual sales; "bad guys" take fees up front and accept all takers, no matter how absurd the invention.

Neustel has named ISC the "Bad Guy of the Year," and is soliciting clients for a class action suit against the company. The battle has turned ugly: ISC has in turn filed a defamation suit against him.

Ellen Yarnell, who produces ISC's annual inventors' trade show, INPEX, says that the company is simply providing a service for those not interested or capable of doing the research, marketing and networking themselves. "They can do it on their own, but they don't have to," she says.

As for the complaints that the company shows little success for its fees, she says: "They are told up front the likelihood of this happening isn't great. The chance of getting a product to the marketplace is pretty sorry, but that doesn't mean there's a low percentage, so don't do it at all. Inventing is delayed gratification, it's that one in a million chance that rarely happens."

That hasn't dissuaded about 2,000 inventors, including Las Vegans such as Steve Brainard, Dave Robinson, Lloyd Molloy, and Bin Knudsen from displaying their products at INPEX next week in Pittsburgh. The 15th annual convention draws about 5,000 participants, Yarnell says, and has spawned inventions such as the Spin-Pop and the Nack Knife.

Brainard, a local construction superintendent, invented the Fishy Feeder, a programmable electronic device that dispenses fish food into an aquarium daily, after worrying about how to feed his goldfish, Goldie and Lucky, during a three-day trip to Disneyland.

He saw an ad for ISC on TV and submitted a sketch of a nonworking prototype. The company accepted his $10,000 and a year later, Brainard's Fishy Feeder is awaiting patent-approval. During that time, to his dismay, a similar device came on the market from a Canadian company.

"So far, they've been trying to market it through their catalogue of manufacturers," Brainard says. "Other than that ... what can I say, they haven't sold it yet, that's for sure."

When told of the company's past troubles, Brainard is stunned.

"I don't know what to think about that, I'm not happy," he says quietly. "The only thing I did was call the Better Business Bureau and there was no complaint on file." (The local bureau's report states that the company is satisfactory, and has no complaints within the last three years.)

But Robin Knudsen and her husband, Bin, who invented the "Bin-Ti," a patented invention which can be used to fasten electrical cords and other unruly items, have been pleased with the company so far.

"I think they do a lot for you, such as sending out publicity releases," she notes. "We haven't had any problems with them, although we were told by a patent attorney to be careful because they had problems in the past."

However, the Knudsens have not relied on the invention marketing company, but have done most of the "hard work" independently: They hired a Colorado patent attorney, patented the product, got themselves listed in catalogues and have already sold 75,000 units to stores such as Ace Hardware. In the inventor's world, this is considered a success story -- although they have yet to turn a profit.

Knudsen says the $1,500 they've invested to appear at the show is not expensive compared to other inventors' shows she's attended, and thinks the exposure is worth it.

"There's a lot of value for the inventors coming together, they're being educated, they can get feedback," Yarnell says. "The dream and big dollar is not what we stress."

But Don Costar, who formed the Nevada Inventors Association in Reno a decade ago, calls the convention a "rip-off. People go and pay their money and think they're making connections," he says.

That's the hope of Dave Robinson, who plans to attend this year's convention despite having no success last year, when his product was displayed only through a photograph. Robinson has invested $10,000 with ISC to market his product, the "Idea," a sanitary covering for public phones. He says bitterly that it has been a "learning experience."

"At first they made it sound so good, that's why I went with them. Through time, it wasn't what I thought at all," he explains. "They're quick to take your money, but I don't believe they helped me. Except for (getting) the patent, I'm not satisfied with the work they've done for me. I did it myself anyway. I don't see where they're at to charge $10,000. That's where they rob you. I wouldn't tell (anyone) to go there."

Still, Robinson is paying a few thousand more to attend the convention, convinced he will meet someone there who will see the merits in his "Idea," which he describes as "life-saving." "I am upset, but not too upset to quit," he says. "They gave me a motivational tool to work with. It will (succeed). I am convinced."

Stories such as this are why Ballou formed the local inventors' club (e-mail: [email protected]). "I was so sick of seeing my friends being ripped off," she laments. "I decided two years ago that I'm going to change the dynamics."

"Inventors groups are extremely worthwhile," Hayes-Rines says. "You're not going to have somebody handhold you through the process, but you're going to learn how to do up-front work on your own to save yourself some money. Don't invest $5,000 with a patent attorney to find out the invention's not marketable."

So why would an inventor pay $10,000 to $30,000 to a company for services they could do themselves for much less?

"The ego of the inventor gets in their own way," Hayes-Rines notes. "People will say, 'I've got the great product, this will be a great one.' "

"Typically, inventors are not administrators," Ballou points out. "They have the creative mindset, they do not have the detail-oriented perspective. Their concentration is terrible, they're up there in the clouds."

Ballou recommends that an inventor begin by reading the inventors' "bible" by patent attorney David Pressman, called "How To Patent It Yourself." "You don't need to go to these idiots who don't know what they're doing," she fumes. Attend a few meetings and research the market, she recommends.

That may be easier in the coming year: Reference librarian Catherine Finnegan of the East Flamingo branch of the Las Vegas-Clark County Library District is creating Southern Nevada's first official "patent trademark depository library," sanctioned by the federal patent office, which will allow inventors to do their own complete patent searches.

Finally, Ballou recommends that the best way to come up with a winning invention is an idea based on personal work experience.

A few of the Las Vegas club members have had success by doing just that.

Bob Hindi, a former Metro officer who invented the "Hindi End Cap," a device attachable to a policeman's baton that creates a more firm grip, approached the country's largest police baton manufacturing firm and is in final negotiations with them.

And Mike Albanese, a corrections officer at the Clark County Detention Center who invented "The Tube," a vinyl mitt that covers the hands of handcuffed prisoners so they're not able to pick locks or grab weapons, recently signed a contract with Eagle Gear, a company based in California, to manufacture his product.

"Those who have familiarity in their field and have observed a need, they are the people who are successful," Ballou says. "That is the best way to do it. There is a sequence we teach inventors and if they do it in that sequence, they're going to do quite well."

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