I watched a talk this week by Close.io CEO Steli Efti: "How Reading Books Saved My Life."
The title is a little dramatic. But go with it for a sec.
Steli never paid attention in school. He hung out in a social circle that could've easily put him on a dicey path. Then one day he wandered into a bookstore and randomly bought a book. He realized reading could unlock a different door to his future.
I love when Steli describes how authors of those books served as his de facto role models:
These books were written by people that were completely beyond the reach of my social circles. And I imagined, with every book I was reading, I always imagined them being my friends. Imagined them being in the room telling me these stories, coaching me, mentoring me, right?
All these people that shared their story, their wisdom, their learnings with me. I created emotional relationships with them while reading these books. I didn't just read information, or scan for information, I had experiences with them.
"Experience"? "Emotional relationship"? Is reading a book written by someone who (of course) is not even present, really a "relationship"?
I had to think about it for a while. Where I came down: HECK YES IT IS!
Writing isn't one-sided. (If it is, you're writing in your diary.)
The reader is absolutely present for the writer during the writing, because writers are always imagining the people who will read their words. The conversation may not be in real-time—it might be asynchronous—but it's a conversation nonetheless.
The act of writing is an act of generosity. And sincerity. The best writers try to shine a light on our murkier, darker corners. Or, as Anne Lamott wrote: "A writer always tries...to be part of the solution, to understand a little about life and to pass this on."
The authors I read always become my friends. Which is why the last few pages of a book can feel like a kind of death (a sense of foreboding, a final ending), and also why I often subsequently (and obsessively) inhale all the works of any writer I like.
And the relationship endures forever.
The author E.B. White died when I was in college. But he remains a lifelong friend of mine.
One morning recently, when I ran out of food for my little dog Abby, I cooked her a soft-boiled egg. She sniffed it cautiously—her neck extended out over the dish like a goat through a wire fence, as if to put some distance between her and that what-fresh-hell-is-this suspicious egg.
But finally she ate it—tentatively, gently, lips retracted over her gums, glancing at me every now and again. She ate it because it seemed she didn't want to hurt my feelings. But I noticed that she didn't lick the plate after, either.
And I suddenly remembered: "This is exactly what E.B. White once wrote about, too." For a moment there, I was E.B. White, watching my childhood collie clean the petrified-oatmeal remains of E.B.'s breakfast bowl with the same good-dog attitude as Abby.
Steli's speech is a good reminder to think of books as partners, writers as mentors. So the questions for you, and all of us, are these:
👉 What book authors right now are your mentors? Whom will you let into your circle? Who is worthy of reading because they generously share the experiences that can help you?
👉 Whom is our own work mentoring? Whom is it for...?
* * *
Here are 5 things I thought worth sharing this week.
1.
Read State
If you want to unlock the next level in your career growth, Steli Efti says, you need to read—"and not just the sports or style section. You need to read actual books."
Even if you don't like reading, or don't think you have "time" to read (scrolls Instagram), you can train yourself to be a better reader.
Drift's Erik Devaney shares four practices of Steli's that can help you—whether you like reading or not—to get more out of every book you pick up.
Read all the things.
2.
Grodzins vs. Gladwell
Morton Grodzins coined the term "tipping point" in the 1960s, and not many people noticed. Malcolm Gladwell wrote a book about it 40 years later... and sold 2.5 million copies.
Andy Crestodina writes: "Malcolm Gladwell is a household name, while Morton Grodzins sounds like a character from a Harry Potter book."
Which prompts two questions:
- Why do we all know Gladwell and not Grodzins? Because Gladwell packaged and promoted the concept better.
- Why do they have the same initials? I knowwwwww. So. Weird. It almost *is* like JK Rowling herself wrote this story....
Anyway, Andy offers a blueprint of 29 steps on how to promote any piece of long-form content, so it doesn't whither in anonymity, Grodzins-style. You could adapt his list to promote any big, meaty content asset—ebook, actual book, whitepaper, guide, set of branded Britannicas, or what-have-you.
3.
When Art Imitates Life 🖼️
The Cleveland Museum of Art last week joining a handful of other art museums in offering unlimited digital access to its collection through Creative Commons Zero, the most liberal way to "un-license" artworks.
👉 Marketers: That means you can copy, modify, and distribute the images, even for commercial purposes, all without asking permission.
The Cleveland-based greeting card company American Greetings is all-in already, which you'll find awesome. Or distressing. Or... both?
4.
Mad Ten 💀
Philip Kennicott offers a short, thoughtful perspective on the 10-year challenge, that online meme meant to show your social media followers how nicely you're preserving your carcass.
The fun meme has a dark side, he says, that's not about privacy—but about how we are choosing to cede control of our very selves:
Slowly, and steadily, we outsource our relationship to time to a corporation, which reminds us every morning where we were last year, or a decade ago. Not only does it distort memory, it also distorts forgetting, an essential tool of happiness.
And:
Facebook randomizes and decontextualizes memory and detaches it from our current self. And why would I want to know what I looked like 10 years ago? This communion with lost time should steal upon us in it is own, organic fashion, not at the bidding of other people, or according to the algorithm of a rapacious and amoral corporation.
It's the best thing I read all week. (Other than Mary Oliver, below.)
Worth a think.
5.
Say This Not That
Replace these 5 words on the right with the ones on the left, says NYTimes Editor Dan Salzstein. Twitter
chimed in with more subs.
Related 👉👉👉 Sweet lord, I hate hate HATE "utilize."
QUICKIES
TOOLS
🔨
This well-thought-out checklist from Jane Friedman gives you
the steps for self-publishing your book + a Google doc you can customize. (
Note: It does not include the actual
do-all-the-work-while-crying writing part.)
🔨
Goodbye, Whom. Hello, chalk, vigorish, sucker bet. The AP Stylebook added a bunch of new terms and words this week for writers writing about sports gambling.
THANK-YOU NOTES
SOMETHING ABOUT MARY
Since my last letter to you, the poet Mary Oliver died. She wrote a lot about dogs and the New England shore—two things close to my own heart, too. My favorite Mary Oliver poem is "I Go Down to the Shore":
I go down to the shore in the morning
and depending on the hour the waves
are rolling in or moving out,
and I say, oh, I am miserable,
what shall—
what should I do? And the sea says
in its lovely voice:
Excuse me, I have work to do.
If that isn't a CTA to get out of your own head... I don't know what is.
Today's letter started off talking about how the writer is in a kind of relationship with the reader. Mary Oliver talked about that, too:
...I wanted the "I." Many of the poems are "I did this. I did this. I saw this." I wanted the "I" to be the possible reader, rather than about myself. It was about an experience that happened to be mine but could well have been anybody else's.
Listen to her interview in Krista Tippett's
On Being podcast to hear that and more. It's a wonderful way to honor her ample and generous life.
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