Yes, the Money Rocks!
We've spent the entire week talking about the perks of the writer’s life. The glicken. The good stuff. The intangibles.
Freedom, prestige, and opportunity all make my list, possibly even in that order. But as Cuba Gooding, Jr. said to Tom Cruise in Jerry Maguire:
"Show me the money!"
I love the writer’s life, but if it didn't include making really good money, I'd be out of here.
I have a very strong aversion to mediocrity. Average is not on my radar.
It has little to do with accumulating material wealth, although I like having nice things.
It's about experiencing life to its fullest. Becoming the absolutely best person I can be. Giving my four kids every opportunity in life that I can, opportunities I didn't have growing up. Providing my wife with a lifestyle she deserves.
You can make good money in a lot of careers, but sometimes at the expense of other things. What's the point of making $200,000 a year if you only get 3-4 weeks off every year to enjoy it? (I'm not implying I'm at that level yet. But I fully intend to be within a year or two, and I'm well on my way.)
Let me share a personal story that might illustrate my motivations better.
Like a lot of guys, I married over my head. My wife is better looking and smarter than I am, she gets way more done in less time than I do, and she juggles running a business with taking care of me and four kids and everything inside and outside of our home.
I'm blessed beyond measure.
In 1998, her father passed away and she went back home to Nigeria for his funeral.
That was the last time she visited her mother and seven brothers and sisters until 2009. Eleven years.
Eleven years of patiently waiting, because at any given time, I either didn't have the money or the vacation time to take off on a major trip.
I felt like a failure.
This was really burning me up inside.
I knew that somehow, some way, I had to change course in my life. Whatever it took, I was going to structure my life to not only make money, but be in control of my destiny.
It took a few years of planning, and toiling at this art of copywriting while I worked 55-hour weeks at my job, but it finally happened.
On December 19, 2009, my wife and kids and I showed up at the front door of my 78-year-old mother-in-law's house, half a world away. As long as I live, I'll never forget her joy at that moment.
Six days later, it hit me. This was the writer's life, and this was the best Christmas ever.
That's why I do what I do.
Can I ask you? What burns you up inside? When you're all by yourself and you think about things you really want in life, what pulls at your heart strings? What makes your lower lip quiver and your eyes tear up? Share with me in the comments.
If elements of the writer’s life would help you get those things … if you have a strong desire to live an extraordinary life … if the idea of connecting with people on a deeper level appeals to you by learning how to carefully craft your ideas … then I would strongly encourage you to throw yourself headlong into this unique and expanding opportunity.
And I hope somehow, someday, you have your own personal December 19th moment.
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