This Might Fail
The days prior to a book launch are some sort of weird purgatory.
At this point in the publishing process, some Advanced Readers might have read the book, but you don’t have a lot of insight about whether or not it will be a “success”.
It’s easy to think: this might fail.
But, that’s the risk we take any time we choose to do something meaningful:
Open A Business
Disrupt An Industry
Survive a Pandemic
Expand Our Roles
Live a Life We Love
That stress is only heightened when there’s so much personal, vulnerable truth poured into the project, as they are on the pages of my new book, Handle the Horrible: Change. Triage. Joy.
Just when I needed a nudge from the universe, it appeared as I judged an entrepreneurship event at my alma mater, NC State University. It happened at a “Minute to Pitch It” Contest, an event where students pitch an entrepreneurial idea in 60 seconds or less for potential funding.
There were a lot of great ideas and a number of outstanding pitches.
As the candidates returned to the balcony for one final recap, I noticed something major:
Male students led every single pitch.
In fact, there was only one female associated with any of the pitches, and only in a supporting role.
Why?
It’s hard to put yourself out there.
It’s hard to break through systemic gender issues.
It’s hard to stay authentic to your truth and purpose.
BUT, if more of us do it, then more will follow.
So, while Handle the Horrible may not make all (or any) of the bestseller lists (fun fact: for copious amounts of money you can buy your way onto all of those lists), it is my hope that it will land on the right hearts. I hope that my story helps you raise your voice and your story.
An excerpt from the book, for you, as well as a reminder for me as we head into the final weekend pre-launch:
“This book is here to remind you that yes, you can, even when you feel like you cannot. It’s a love letter for the people who feel like they are the only ones. The leaders who sit alone in their difficult decisions. The life circumstances that isolate us from tradition. The societal labels that wreak havoc on our peaceful sleep. The people who want to make an unpopular move, but fear the repercussions. The dreamers who long to do. I see you and feel you, because I am you.”
I wrestled with whether or not to publish this book.
Maybe it was too personal?
Or, maybe it was too ordinary?
My heart kept telling me it was perfect time to be honest, vulnerable, and more motivated than ever to shine a light on the power of the arts, perseverance, and resilience.
With authenticity and compassionate leadership, I believe we can turn the tides and shift ordinary to extraordinary. By being visible and showing up, we take a step forward.
We share the story
We pursue the dream
We get things back on track when they feel derailed
We prioritize true crisis over perceived crisis
And, we live a life rooted in gratitude, art, and joy, despite the circumstances.
I hope you’ll join me.
We can all be a part of this together on September 27th.
