by James Altucher: Did
Obama Really Say He Wants Everyone To Go to College?
I wrote and
self-published a brand new book, published TODAY:
the cover. If you click on it, it takes you straight to the book.
If you’re an Amazon Prime member you can read it for free.
Otherwise, it’s $2.99 for the Kindle version.
who bought my last book and sent me the receipt will get this one
for free in PDF form. Many people who have asked me questions during
my Twitter Q&A are mentioned in the book.
the INTRO of the book:
ANYONE ASK ME A QUESTION?
at just about everything I’ve done. I’ve lost tens of
millions of dollars after making it from scratch. I’ve been
divorced. As a father, you can make your own judgments based on
what I’ve written. As an entrepreneur I’ve had successes
and failures. I’ve fought addictions, some of them I’ve
won, some I would say are still in process. Yet, people ask me questions.
an entrepreneur and writer for the past 15 years. About a year and
a half ago, I started blogging. The main component of my blog was
that I would be honest and revealing. The times when I would be
on the floor and just struggling to get up and get motivated. The
times when I would pray for nothing but my own death so at least
life insurance could be used to keep my kids happy. That’s
how stupid I was. That is how revealing I was on my blog. And then
emailing me many questions, “How did you get yourself off the
floor?” “What do you think of X?” “How can I
build Y?” “How do I come up with ideas?” “How
can I self publish a book?” “How can I be happy when
I’m going through a divorce?” “What’s the first
step when starting a business?” “Is it ok to cheat on
my wife if we never have sex?” “How can I marry a billionare?”
I am not very
good at answering emails. However, I wanted to answer these questions,
and I felt that not just me but anyone can answer the questions.
So I started to schedule one hour a week, Thursdays from 3:30-4:30
EST, so anyone could ask. I would Tweet answers away, but really,
anyone could. That is what’s great about Twitter.
And why would
I want to do this? What good does it do me? Really…nothing.
But I love it. I used to religiously read the advice column “Dear
Abby” as a kid. An advice column. Then I would buy the collected
columns (since she had decades worth of material) when they came
out in book form. She had been doing it since 1956 and her daughter
continues the tradition. And then there was “Ask Ann Landers”
which was every bit as good and done by her twin sister. Of course,
they couldn’t use their real names. “Ann Landers”
real name was “Eppie Lederer”.
they were related to me (my great grandfather’s last name was
ask them anything. I remember one in particular. A woman followed
her husband late at night to a strip club. The man went in the back
with a woman. Later, under interrogation from the wife he claimed,
“all I got were sexual favors”. In other words, he was
trying to say, no big deal. This girl wanted to know (from Abby,
or Ann, I forget which) if this was okay.
I forget their
response. But right then and there I decided I wanted to be just
like “Dear Abby”. I wanted people to feel comfortable
asking me about “sexual favors”. What could be more fun
majored in Psychology at college. My dad asked me, “Why do
you want to major in Psychology? Psychologists don’t make any
money. Then you won’t meet any girls.”
if I don’t want to meet the kind of girl who is going to like
me just because I have money.”
not going to like you because you have money,” my dad in his
infinite logic was trying to explain. “She’s going to
like you because you are the KIND OF GUY who can make money.”
He did not
convince me. Unfortunately, some bad things happened along the way
towards me being a professional clinical psychologist – not
– and future Dear Abby.
101 was considered a “gut class”. 2000 people were in
the class. The teacher gave the same multiple choice exams every
year and there were only 2 tests and a final, and that was your
entire grade. I read every psychology book in the library. I was
passionate about the topic. I got a D– in the class.
really know how I got a D–. I studied. I took notes. I attended
every class (the only time I did that during my entire college education).
I also knew people were cheating (studying the prior year’s
multiple choice exams, knowing they would be the same). But I assumed
I would be great at multiple choice exams.