For example, I was advised to delete my references to the similarities between food and finances (page 6). Apparently, it's now taboo in America to suggest people might want to lose weight. I refused. After going on my fitness journey, I now believe even more strongly that you can take control of your food and your money.
(Funny enough, when I posted an Instagram story about my fitness/food, I showed exactly what I eat -- down to the gram. It was my most popular story ever.)
I've been advised to make my writing more vanilla. To fit into the mainstream. To give "5 tips on saving money by turning your oven light off." No thanks. This means lots of media orgs won't cover my material. So be it.
Sometimes, I put that pressure on myself. I remember when I sat down to write new edition of my book, I was working on the new section on crypto. It'd been a long time since I wrote a book. After I wrote for 6 hours, I sat back, re-read it, and tore it up. It was shit. I was equivocating, vacillating...not taking a stand. I sounded like everybody else and I hated my own writing.
When I was young, I could write whatever I wanted. I was fearless. (I was also abrasive, which unnecessarily antagonized some people. That was a mistake. Nobody should ever put down a potentially life-changing book because one line offends them. That was my fault. And I fixed it in the new edition of the book.)
Now, I found myself scared to be honest. It's easy when you're in your mid-20s. Now, I have employees, a wife, readers who scour every single thing I say for errors. I have a lot more to lose.
But I realized, the reason the first book did so well was that I took a stand. Agree or not, you knew exactly where I stood. In life, having a point of view is the most rare thing of all.
(And, of course, you need to be right. For the people who bought my book in March 2009 and followed it, they're financially set for life.)
So I tore up my first pass at crypto and wrote it again. I fought back against my own urge to be vanilla. This time, I called it like I saw it (page 256). When you read it, you'll know exactly where I stand.
Through that process, it solidified my belief that facts matter.
Psychology matters.
Specifics matter.
When you write these things, you don't please anyone. Some people don't like it. That's fine.
But even as doors close, new ones open. For example, I've become more open about my own finances and my relationship.
On the Tim Ferriss podcast, I talked about the process of signing a prenup and the challenging conversations I had with my wife -- including seeing a therapist. We struggled to find answers. Money is taboo. Love and money is even more shadowy. Once we figured it out, I went on Tim's show to share exactly what happened (with Cass's blessing)...because nobody else talks about this publicly.
An entire new generation of people in relationships leaned in and started listening.
On my latest Instagram story, I showed you exactly how I travel, down to the specific details. An entirely new group of people who've never dreamed of traveling like that leaned in and started watching.
Facts matter.
Psychology matters.
Specifics matter.
This is why I'm grateful for my book to get reviewed in the New York Times.
But truthfully, I'm most proud of growing IWT my way.
No gatekeepers. No intermediaries. Just you and me.
Long ago, I made the decision to go directly to you instead of praying the media would cover me. Through my email newsletter, my blog, my Instagram and Twitter. On book tour and events I throw.
