I got a book deal. But also...

While may look like your average cookie-cutter celebratory linkedin post —I am, indeed, “excited/humbled/honored” to have gotten a book deal after almost four years of trying— I mostly want to use this boost of the LinkedIn algo to give anyone looking to write a book OR launch a new business idea three insights for maintaining sanity while bringing a new idea/business to life:

1. Be vulnerable and ask for help
2. Put yourself in the financial position to see it through?
3. (Try your best not to) take it personally

1. Ask for help

Coming from outside of the industry, and without many people in my network who’ve written a book, the process for getting a book deal is extraordinarily confusing and intimidating. [Another post coming on that process shortly.]

So, I did what I learned in sales, and started cold-emailing people in the alumni directory who had “author” in their title. My warm lead intros worked a bit better — but my cold emails also turned up some really helpful advice and connections.

Legendary researcher Herminia Ibarra talks about the outsized benefit of reconnecting with people in your network you’re no longer as close with. It's potentially the only way to truly branch out, because our closest network knows us more as our current identity. I knew almost zero authors at the start of this.

I don’t typically worry about looking stupid or out of my league, but the publishing industry is intimidating, and constantly feeling judged for my writing, even in my emails, dredged up feelings of inadequacy from way way back. I no doubt lost out on some agents because of my rough edges, but wouldn’t have netted any, had I not put myself in the position to look like a noob to begin with.

If you have trouble with this sort of thing, check out the book “The Aladdin Factor” about how people are wired to want to help. Thanks for the rec Mesa Sherriff

2. Put yourself in the financial position to see it through?

Launching new things almost always takes longer than you plan (and prefer).

This is particularly true if they are innovative — by definition before their time.?

It took ~5 years to go from the seed of idea to “sale” of my sabbatical book. The startup I cofounded in 2010 had ~3 years of research predating us spinning it out from Harvard. In each case, the people involved had to figure out a way to sufficiently test their hypotheses before going all-in.

To get from then to now, living in a place as expensive as San Francisco, I made real sacrifices, including going car-less, living with a roommate, and moonlighting doing renovations and other things to create future value while my cash reserves declined. (I would say I resorted to eating ramen, but I freaking love ramen, and the ramen I love isn’t exactly cheap ;) )

For some people, creating the runway for truly testing the fences on an idea means staying at a job you don’t love for another year or two, or—as more than one entrepreneur I know did—eating all meals at work for years to save cash.

My 美国哈佛商学院 classmate and fellow(?) author Alexandre Lazarow talks about startups needing to aspire to being a “camel” versus a unicorn if they want to succeed. Being able to survive until the world catches up to you — or in my case, to carry on through unprecedented exogenous headwinds like the pandemic, election, and George Floyd, all of which were objectively both more urgent AND important — is crucial to bringing something new and innovative to life.

To be sure, having the privilege to take time off is…well, a privilege that not all enjoy. But far more folks could make the time and space to do what they really desire if they lived more frugally in the interim.?

3.?Don't take it personally

Potentially the most “easier said than done” item on this list, but I’d be lying if I didn’t own up to my resentment about getting rejected by dozens of agents (~45) and dozens of publishers (~25) my first time out to the market. I was doubly bitter when my agent (at the time) gave up after our first go-round. Not exactly what you read in the acknowledgement of most books, I thought.

Meanwhile, I saw folks in my network celebrating their own book deals, which I’m ashamed to admit, I had trouble feeling excited about. I harbored all sorts of head-trash about why their ideas got green lighted while mine languished. It was not a good look for me.?

I had to keep reminding myself something I heard in weekend retreat that stuck with me: other peoples’ success is not at the expense of yours. There’s more than enough to go around, and it’s extremely rare that the arena you’re competing in is either winner-take-all or mutually-exclusive.?

Instead, I’ve observed that success is more like a conveyor-belt sushi restaurant: you might see someone to the left of you pick up that Uni you’ve really been wanting, but while they’re eating, your favorite thing might just cruise past them. Better yet, especially if you’re reaching out to your network to let them know what you need (see point #1) they might even ask the chef to bring you Uni. Uni that’s actually fresh and hasn’t been riding around on the conveyor belt getting all warm and gooey.?

This point is especially salient for the publishing industry. At the end of the day, the gatekeepers who rejected my proposal in the fall of 2020 were fairly wrong, (turns out the great resignation happened the next year…pretty great time for a book about sabbaticals after all!) but partially right: I needed to grow my platform and get more of my ideas out there into the world. I wouldn’t have started this journey without their insistence, and I feel much more connected to those impacted by my work because of it. Lose-win ;)?

Don’t hate the gatekeepers for gatekeepin. Take? what you can use from the signal you’re getting, and in the sage words of Jerry Colonna , “breathe and do the work.”?

Many more people to thank for giving their time, referrals, and encouragement, including, but not limited to:

Christina Wallace and Alexandre Lazarow and Patrick McGinnis and Aarti and Mike Lewis and Adam Smiley Poswolsky for their help with proposals and intros to agents.

Abby Falik the superconnector, Joy Tutela for believing in me twice, Elizabeth Giudicessi for many hours of free PR advice, my brilliant unpaid editors Katherine Ullman and Greg Larson and my splendid paid one: Brenda Copeland . James Allworth and Brian Thurber for reiterating that the way to get yourself out there is to get yourself out there, and my family for rarely suggesting I get a real job ;)