My plan was to write and publish 12 books last year — one book for every month in the year.
It was a crazy goal, but I’m no stranger to crazy goals, whether it was writing 365 songs in a year or practicing guitar for three hours per day for a full year (1,095 hours).
After publishing The Essential Guide to Creative Entrepreneurship and Start Your Year the Right Way by the end of March, I was off to a running start.
It was time to move onto my next project, and whenever I had a free moment, I was inside Google Drive adding to my manuscript.
Man with The Plan
I understood the value of showing up for my audience. And I thought to myself, if I had a larger group of products, it was likely one or two of them would resonate, and all I would have to do at that point is boost the ones that had legs.
Sales sucked and I wanted to do something about it. They just weren’t where I wanted them to be.
And it was incredibly frustrating knowing I had some of the best material out there, and somehow the greatness was being overlooked. It wasn’t spreading like I wanted it to.
I wanted to be known. To be heard. To share a message that impacted tens of thousands of people. The content was there! What in the world was I doing wrong!?
Yet, here I was failing miserably, and publishing more was about the only way I could see to turn this around.
Slamming into an Invisible Wall
As it turns out, writing books takes time. As someone who had self-published four books to that point, I should have recognized this.
At the time, I was taking a three month long personal development program, which quickly ate away at the time available for writing.
I was doing all of this on top of meetings, band rehearsals, gigs, community events, client work, blogging, podcasting, website maintenance and more!
As I was winding down from the personal development program, excited about all I had ultimately accomplished (even if I didn’t finish my next book), things got ugly in a hurry.
My relationship started crumbling.
I was devastated. I turned from shocked to sad, sad to angry, angry to wounded. I can still remember having rage fits in my car as I was driving to and from meetings.
A Moment of Clarity
After calming down somewhat, but still wounded, I started thinking about what my next steps might be.
And it became clear it was time to leave Calgary, AB.
I had been thinking about becoming a digital nomad for a while. It was a scary idea earlier in life, but now it didn’t seem so scary. It didn’t seem like a big risk.
My income had risen to a level where I knew this was more than realistic, and even had a good idea how to save money while traveling.
So, I started making plans to leave Calgary. I worked out all the details with my roommate (who took some convincing) and tried to escape for the summer while licking my wounds and getting some rest.
Of course, I knew what was right around the corner that fall. I’d have to get ready to move.
The Move from Hell
I had moved before. But this was going to be a different kind of move. If I were to begin my nomadic life, I’d need to get rid of most of my belongings, or at least put them in storage.
This proved to be an incredibly frustrating and difficult period for me.
My work schedule had only picked up and showed no signs of slowing.
I did my best to try to balance my work with preparing for my journeys, but it was simply proving impossible. I had no time or energy to do it all!
I got reprimanded. A few times. From people who were fully capable of helping me. People who knew my situation and understood what I was facing. People who, instead of criticizing me, should have been in my corner to support and protect me.
I found no support when I needed it most. It was a total disaster.
4,000 ft Above Sea Level
Somehow, I made it to Abbotsford, BC. It wasn’t easy.
My car (Calamity the car) broke down on the other side of the Coquihalla highway, though if your car is going to break down somewhere, it’s going to be 4,081 ft above sea level.
The move had already been the most difficult I’d ever experienced. I had issues with my car the whole journey (from the locks to the car horn) and when it had finally broken down, I was drained. I didn’t want to go back into problem-solving mode.
But somehow, I looked through my tired eyes, lifted my defeated body, and put my foggy brain to work. I didn’t have far to go from Hope to Abbotsford. So, I thought about renting a truck or a car. I thought about getting a taxi. I thought about finding a shuttle or a bus.
At the end of the day, there was only one option. I had to buy a car.
So, that’s what I did. And it put a serious dent in my wallet.
As Good As it Gets
Eventually, the book was completed. I published it back in May.
And, if you’re still asking yourself whether I followed through on my goal of writing 12 books last year, the answer is no.
I decided to put some extra time into editing The Music Entrepreneur Code, making it the best it could possibly be. And that was the right move.
Once I got to Abbotsford, I started exploring all over — Chilliwack, Langley City, Surrey, Coquitlam, Burnaby, Vancouver, North Vancouver, Richmond… I went down to Blaine and Seattle, WA with some friends… Even made it out to Silverthorne, CO last December for a mastermind gathering.
Although I would never want to repeat what I had to go through last year, I can say one thing — the view from here sure is amazing!
And that’s the story of how I wrote my best-selling book, The Music Entrepreneur Code. You can pick up your own copy by clicking here.