Failure excites me.

I find failure incredibly exciting.

And I know that sounds strange, because most people I speak to are afraid of failure, afraid of rejection, afraid of hearing no, and sometimes so afraid of failing that they never really decide what they want in the first place.

I’ve been coaching for over 10 years, and when anyone works with me, one of the first things I want to know is: What do you actually want?

When I wrote my first book, PowerLift Your Career, I would work with people through the chapters of the book, which were my 12 steps to success, and the first chapter was all about deciding what you want.

And I realised that most people find this really hard. Because once you decide what you want, you have to try to get it. And part of trying to get it means you are going to fail.

Over and over again.

When I first wrote PowerLift Your Career, ironically, my goal was to get it published. I particularly wanted it to be published by Hay House because I was a huge fan of Louise Hay. I’d read You Can Heal Your Life, and it changed my life, and I thought, That is the kind of company I would love to publish my book.

I visualised it. They would give me an advance. They would support me, distribute the book and I would be in all the bookshops. So I went straight to them. My book was already written, and they only wanted a sample, so I sent it.

And they sent me this letter. The rejection letter in the image attached.

I could have stopped there. But I didn’t.

I started contacting smaller publishing companies, and after 33 people had either said no, not responded, or sent me a rejection email, something happened that I could never have planned. I was sitting in my favourite restaurant in Northampton, Nuovo. My sons were very little at the time, and they were wearing matching Peaky Blinders caps.

A lady sitting at the table next to us mentioned how gorgeous and cute they were, and we started talking. She told me that her father ran a bookshop and that they sold books from different authors.

I said, I’d love to get my book in there. So I went to meet them. I gave them a copy of my book. They looked through it and  said it was perfect. And I did my book launch there.

On the first day, I sold 26 copies. After that, my book sat on the shelf, and every month I would contact them or go in and ask, “How many did we sell?” And it was amazing knowing that somebody could walk into a bookshop and buy my book.

The numbers were small, but I didn’t care. My book was in a bookshop. It gave me so much joy that when I wrote my second book five years later, I did the same thing and launched that book there too.

But by the time I wrote my last two books, I had realised that having your book in a bookshop is great. It means somebody can buy it when you’re not there.

It means it can sit on a shelf. But you still have to market it. You still have to drive people towards it.You still need people to know it exists. In fact, I found that I sold more books when I was physically inside the bookshop.

I would literally go up to people and say: “Hey, check out my book. Have a read. Tell me what you think. Does this resonate?”

And I would sell them the book while standing in the bookshop.

Someone once said to me: “Why are you always taking pictures holding your book? Every picture, you’re holding your book.”

And I was like: “Yeah. Because people need to know that this book is available, and I need people to want to buy it.”

It might seem counterintuitive to keep holding up the same book over and over again and showing people the same thing.

But I had no other alternative, I needed people to see it. Until one day, somebody read my book.

They worked for a big tech company. They contacted me and said, “I’ve read your book. Could you come and talk about the book to our advertising and marketing team? Could you talk about confidence, self-esteem and mindset?”

I said, “Absolutely.”

And then, before I knew it, one of the most iconic moments of my career happened. I was standing on a stage.

In front of me were 100 NHS leaders. And every single one of them had a copy of my book. At one point, they all held it up. And I remember looking at that room and thinking:

This is the moment.

Six years after I wrote the book, Six years after the rejection letter. Six years after 33 people said no, ignored me or rejected it.

There I was, looking at 100 senior NHS leaders holding my book and excited to read it after hearing me deliver my keynote. That is why failure excites me.

I don’t see a no and automatically think stop. I think, not this way. If you are writing a book, you have to understand that once you have written it, the work begins.

You have to keep showing up, and to keep talking about it. You have to keep asking yourself:

Who is this book for? Because if you know who it is for, you can start getting it in front of those people.

I have given away so many books, And done book drops at airports. Just recently, I was travelling to Switzerland with four copies of Three Mirrors of Radical Honesty. I stood outside the bookshop, and whenever someone went over to the nonfiction section, I would say:

“Hey, are you a fan of nonfiction?” We would start talking. I’d tell them I wrote a book.

They’d say, “Oh?”And I’d say, “I’d love to tell you about it.” I would tell them about the book and then give them a copy. I love doing this at airports because those people are going all over the world.

I’m planting little seeds in people’s hands. I don’t know who they are or where that book is going.

They might run an organisation or be part of a leadership team. They might read the book and, one day, bring me into their organisation to talk about it.

I’ve left books on trains on purpose, I’ve left them on tubes. I’ve tried so many different marketing strategies because I constantly want to get my books out there.

Because I know If enough people come across my books, eventually they will reach the right people.

I know my books are powerful. Every book I have written, I know it is going to serve the audience it was written for.

My job is to get it in front of them. And that rejection letter from Hay House is still one of my favourite rejection letters. I literally keep it in a special folder.

It reminds me that when somebody says no, it doesn’t mean stop.