I've been a fan of Malcolm Gladwell since his first book, Tipping Point,

where he showed why [I love knowing why] little things can make a big difference.

Tipping Point gave me business hope.
I appreciate hope.

I learned later that I did what everyone else did when Gladwell's second book came out. I walked into the store, saw the stack, and with an outstretched hand walked to touch the cover.

Blink is about the two-second window of knowing that allows people to be ahead of the curve.

Blink gave me knowledge.
I like knowledge.

Last week, walking shoulders bent against frosty wind in downtown Toronto, I saw Outliers in the window of a closed bookstore.

Nothing would do, then, but to find an open bookstore! Outliers lays out the differences people who achieve great success have in common. Startlingly, they seem random, until explained.

• Great hockey players are born in January.
  • A child born in September is unlikely to make the cut.

• Big firm Wall Street laywers were born in 1934 to parents in the garment industry.
  • Lawyers whose fathers were lawyers weren't attracted to the now lucrative field.

• Success comes after 10,000 hours of practice.
  • Children whose parents don't give them those hours are unlikely to be outliers; people whose success in astoundingly beyond normal.

Gladwell is one of my favorite non-fiction writers because of his skill as a weaver. In all three books he leads with point A, then, in chapter two introduces point B and shows how A is incorporated. In chapter three he introduces point C, then weaves in the knowledge of A and B.

Outliers gives me direction.
I value direction.

When I saw her name on the list I knew what I should do,
I just didn't know if I could do it.

Little clue: If I hadn't, I wouldn't be sharing this with you.
The fact that I am sharing is confirmation this is the first time I've ever been this brazen.

We hadn't ever met.
She presented at the National Speakers Association in San Diego two years ago.

Two years ago, that's a long time

and subsequently sent me a copy of her book.

Not because she knew me, just because my name was on the list of attendees. There is no way she would know me, I didn't go up to speak with her afterward, I didn't write her a note, I didn't make myself known to her in any way.

So I picked up the phone, was grateful to get voicemal, and left this message:

"Hello Elizabeth, My name is Wendy Kinney, I was in your audience when you spoke for NSA in San Diego two years ago. I see that you are speaking for the NAPO conference this Friday; I'm on the program too. The Georgia Chapter of NSA meets on Saturday, and our board dinner is Friday night. I'd love to invite you to join us, both for dinner and for our Saturday meeting. You can reach me at . . ."

Jump right to the end of the story.

• I have two new friends!
  Two.
  Because Elizabeth called back to say she would love to join the NSA board for dinner, could she bring her hostess. (Elizabeth lives in Souix Falls, South Dakota. She was staying with Leslie while in Atlanta.)
• Friday morning Elizabeth and I met because we were doing back-to-back breakouts in the same room. We shared a lav mic, and tips. She showed me the hot pink table cover she uses to reinforce her brand; I showed her the ZOOM I record on.
• At the break she introduced me to her Atlanta hostess Leslie, who shook my hand while saying, "My husband has heard you speak. He still has the handout on his desk, he said to tell you he refers to it frequently."

In my after lunch keynote I shared with 100 women that I am shy and introverted. Across the table at dinner Elizabeth leaned forward to say "I'm introverted too. I'm so glad you called. How did you make yourself do that?"

And then, we made arrangements to share a room in Scottsdale.
Cost: One phone call with heart in my hands.
Reward: New friend Elizabeth,
new friend Leslie,
and I save $225 in hotel expense!



Share with me! Share with me!
When have you done the hard thing you knew you should do,
and what where your wonderful rewards?

"If happiness is always in the future, then you'll never be happy."

P. Zimbardo