Want To Be A Millionaire – From time to time, I come across books that really fascinate me and I want to share them with my readers. Like the one by Robert J. Ringer, titled: Million Dollar Habits. In the book, Ringer talks about his experience as a publisher. Sounds like he’s talking to me. Can you, too, learn from his experience? Read on:

In 1980, having authored three best-selling books, I became restless and started looking for a side occupation. (Note: The most successful people in history rarely, if ever, have had side occupations. Hobbies, yes, but not side occupations. Laserlike focus is perhaps the most common trademark of the super successful.) I rationalized that since I had published the hardcover editions of my own books and successfully marketed them, it would make sense to publish other authors’ books, too. In retrospect, I can say unequivocally that my only reason for undertaking a book publishing venture was to make money.

I had the misfortune of striking it rich on the very first book I published, which is analogous to going to Las Vegas for the first time and coming away a winner. The book was a doom-and-gloom treatise on investing called Crisis Investing, which had already been published by a small publisher and had apparently peaked out at about 10,000 copies. I felt the book had some merit, and considering the state of the economy, along with the always destructive actions of the U.S. Congress, it seemed a perfect time to capitalize on the public’s concerns.

The problem, however, was trying to convince the hardcover publisher who had distributed my own books to promote Crisis investing to its bookstore accounts. At my urging, the vice president with whom I worked at that company read the book, after which he offered the opinion that it was a piece of (expletive). He then had his sales force review the book, and told me that the prevailing opinion was that we would be lucky to sell 5,000 copies without a big marketing push, perhaps 25,000 copies with a “super-duper Ringer ad campaign.”

Notwithstanding all this negativism, I managed to prevail and succeeded in getting the book distributed nationwide. I wrote the copy for an ad campaign, and, to everyone’s amazement, sales of the book went through the ceiling. Even more amazing, Crisis Investment ultimately enjoyed a string of fifteen consecutive weeks in the number-one position on the New York Times best-seller list and became the biggest-selling hardcover book of 1980.

It was wildly exciting at first, but when I started to comprehend what it all meant, it made me feel a bit uneasy. Something just didn’t seem right. As I’ve said many times over the years, in retrospect I wish I had failed with that first book, because that would have ended my foray into the publishing world.

Instead, I forged ahead with a number of other books, marketing them in the same sensationalistic style I had used to promote Crisis Investing. To my astonishment, less than nine months after publishing Crisis investing, the Wall Street Journal ran a front-page story on my publishing exploits, and Fortune soon countered with a three-page article, noting that I had managed to put three books on the New York Times best-seller list after less than a year in business. I vividly recall feeling genuinely embarrassed when I read the articles, and I assure you it had nothing to do with modesty. Rather, it was because I knew in my heart that the articles were premature.

Real-World Rule No. 87 No matter how great others tell you you are, if you don’t feel good about what you’re doing, ignore the applause, stop, and carefully evaluate the facts.

The truth of the matter was that I knew all along – at least subconsciously – what was wrong. I not only was publishing many books I didn’t believe in, I also was saying things in my ads that were beyond the bounds of acceptable marketing hype. Talk about not being able to look in the mirror, I had to shave in a dark closet. I was guilty of self-delusion as a result of fearing the truth – an easy trap to fall into when you start seeing money as an end in itself.

The one good thing that came out of all this was that it gave me a firsthand appreciation of what conventional publishers have to put up with in dealing with authors. They are constantly being chastised for being insensitive and callous toward no-name authors, especially first-time authors. However, based on my experience from inside the Publishing Asylum, I can tell you that there most decidedly are two sides to the story. If man does, indeed, walk around in a state of waking dreams, a large percentage of would-be authors float around in a self-hypnotic state of delusion that defies description. The one thing that most unpublished authors have in common is that each of them seems absolutely certain that he’s written the sequel to Gone with the Wind – or at least Think and

Grow Rich – and makes demands accordingly.

On more than one occasion I was tempted to laugh out loud when dealing with some of these “authors,” but would quickly remind myself that the author with whom I was speaking might well be dangerous. Who knew what these people were capable of when they were running around loose on the streets? It got to a point where my staff and I would spend a large percentage of our time discussing strategies to humour our most deranged authors. When I finally extricated myself from the publishing business, I could have written a great movie script based on my zany experiences. I can see myself now, accepting an Oscar for Psycho Author.

The moral? I didn’t have a good reason for going into the publishing business. Certainly, I didn’t enjoy it, and, other than writing good ad copy, I had no particular skills for running a publishing company. The best guide to a proper focus is to think about what would bring happiness to your daily life. What is it that you really enjoy, that you’re good at; that would make life worth living? What is it that you really want out of life; that would make living in the present an easy habit to maintain?

 

First Published in May, 1997.