Why I often say yes — and sometimes no — to people who want to meet with me virtually
I’m in an unusual situation. I have a lot of accumulated knowledge, especially about books and publishing. I have plenty of work to do, but my time is mostly flexible; I’m not meeting people all day long. And I’m extremely curious about just about everything.
This means that if you ask to meet with me, I’ll probably say yes. (And I’m sure I’ll regret posting this, but why not be open about it?) But I may say no. This is how I decide.
Can I learn something from you?
I like to meet with smart people. I want to hear about your startup, your AI expertise, your experiences with publishers, your promotion strategy, the new data you collected. I’ve always been curious. As an analyst, I turned that curiosity into an asset. Now it’s a habit. And it keeps my mind active.
I want to learn about you. I don’t want to learn about whatever you’re selling. Sales pitch = goodbye. Within seconds, usually. (And don’t try to convince me that I should be curious about whatever it is — I’ve been a professional long enough to make up my own mind. My time belongs to me, not you, regardless of whether you’ve fooled me into listening to your pitch.)
(And just so you know, if you want to explore link-sharing, contributed articles, or advertising, then I will block your email and report you as spam. Fair warning.)
Can you learn something from me?
My philosophy is, if I can help you, I will try to help you.
This is especially true for business authors. If you are serious about writing and publishing, I will try to help you. That might lead to business for me, but that’s not the point; helping authors is just what I do.
A serious author has questions like “Which book idea might be best?”, “What publishing path is right for me?”, or “What does the writing and publishing process look like?” If you’ve done the work on your book idea and have questions about how to make it into a success, I can probably help you.
If your questions look more like “How does publishing work?” “Can I write a book in two months?” or “Where can I get a book idea from?” then go back and work on your idea more. I’m not your therapist. My skill is to help you move from your idea in a successful direction, not to turn your inchoate desires into something worthwhile.
Can I trust you?
I help people I’ve worked with, pretty much with anything.
I help people recommended by people I already know and trust.
If you’re not in those categories, it will help if you read my book or regularly read my blog. If you don’t have time to use the resources I already provide, why should I spend time educating you? And no, reading one blog post will not turn you into a desirable contact.
Can I help you quickly?
Yes, I’ll spend half an hour on the phone with you (if the above conditions are right).
No, I will not read your 80,000-word manuscript and tell you what I think.
No, I will not review your 190-row spreadsheet and vet your analysis.
No, I will not meet you for coffee. I don’t drink coffee. And that makes a hole in the middle of my day.
No, I will not meet you before 10am or after 4pm, Eastern Time, or on the weekend. Because those other times belong to me.
No, you cannot “pick my brain.” Because I’m here to help, not be a substitute for Google or ChatGPT. Also, ew.
It’s not just me
Most people are harder to set up a meeting with than me. They’re busier than me, their schedules are minefields, they defend their time jealously, and they’re just not as curious.
Even so, you’re chances are better to meet with them if you can pass through the filters I’ve just described.
Most people honestly want to help.
Most people prefer others who treat them and their expertise respectfully, not like an entitlement.
Most people prefer to make connections with others who are knowledgeable and intelligent, especially about things they themselves know less about.
Most people like genuine connections and hate wasting time on ill-defined random connections.
Most people don’t want to be sold.
It’s not that hard.
I look forward to meeting you. Maybe.
Josh, earlier this year I helped prepare my father’s second book for publication, then updated a website to support it. Along the way I sent him several of your blog posts. If you have time and are curious, visit leadershipforengineers.com and let me know if you think we learned anything from you.