MAYA YAEL FRAI
2024 / ARCHIVE
ABOUT ME ——
Maya is an Investor and Entrepreneur with expertise across product management, design, and venture capital. Her experience spans leading tech companies and venture firms, giving her a unique perspective on product development from 0-1 and scaling.
As a Product Manager at Google, she led the launch for MLB live sports (first time monetized) on YouTube during the nation-wide lockdown, led a product pivot to content across eSports, Tentpole Events, Movies & Shows, and led the pilot launch of a new Direct Response ad format for top Media & Entertainment clients. She also spearheaded international expansions and monetization efforts for the Google Food team, including launches in the UK and Japan and new consumer experiences on Google Search + Maps.
In venture capital, Maya has quarterbacked investments from pre-seed to Series B at Village Global, Greylock Partners, and Google Ventures. She has also spent time as an Entrepreneur in Residence at Greylock, focusing on early-stage consumer products in AI. Since 2019, she has been a founding advisor for re—inc, supporting product launches, fundraising, and go-to-market partnerships.
Maya was born and raised in Miami to a Brazilian mother and Israeli father that taught her everything she knows about grit and passion. She started her first company in high school by launching an e-commerce brand and later created a platform to empower women during the #MeToo movement. She studied Computer Science at Cornell University and currently lives in San Francisco.
Language: English
ISBN-10: 0882681281
ISBN-13: 978-0882681283
ISBN-10: 0882681281
ISBN-13: 978-0882681283
I died. Deader and deader.
"Little joke corpse!" Yeah, I
shrank beyond belief; I'd even fit quite neatly
inside the bowl of my ridiculously
miniscule briarwood pipe.
Ishmael they call me, Father
Ishmael. I'm such a pipsqueak, though,
they have got to be kidding.
Being dead means
very light housekeeping.
It's dark,
and cold.
Cold as the dawn of a new
Ice Age. A sage frostbitten
under gelid palmtrees. The pallor
of one's foibles.
Dark: A rat standing
at attention on the tip of his
hairless tail squealing bloody
murder without the slightest movement of his snout.
Cold: Across an almond-green plain
a procession of pale blue elephants
walking backwards.
Dark: A diminutive stringbean of a rat hovers
on dragonfly wings.
Cold: A wee purple face glares out of a winejar's
bulging glassy midriff.
Dark: Two perfectly identical human mouths
kiss each other to death.
Cold: A truncated male torso
gives with a significant wink.
Dark: Above clouds or
black sands. Idols of old religions
set up. Facing them,
horror in tar: the grin of certain dead people.
Cold ...—Polar ...— I'm entombed
"Little joke corpse!" Yeah, I
shrank beyond belief; I'd even fit quite neatly
inside the bowl of my ridiculously
miniscule briarwood pipe.
Ishmael they call me, Father
Ishmael. I'm such a pipsqueak, though,
they have got to be kidding.
Being dead means
very light housekeeping.
It's dark,
and cold.
Cold as the dawn of a new
Ice Age. A sage frostbitten
under gelid palmtrees. The pallor
of one's foibles.
Dark: A rat standing
at attention on the tip of his
hairless tail squealing bloody
murder without the slightest movement of his snout.
Cold: Across an almond-green plain
a procession of pale blue elephants
walking backwards.
Dark: A diminutive stringbean of a rat hovers
on dragonfly wings.
Cold: A wee purple face glares out of a winejar's
bulging glassy midriff.
Dark: Two perfectly identical human mouths
kiss each other to death.
Cold: A truncated male torso
gives with a significant wink.
Dark: Above clouds or
black sands. Idols of old religions
set up. Facing them,
horror in tar: the grin of certain dead people.
Cold ...—Polar ...— I'm entombed