From:
South of Jewfish Creek

Dear Friend & Subscriber,

I've got a good set-up for writing now.

I've got a little two bedroom place down in the middle of the Florida Keys in the city of Marathon which is on a small island called Key Vaca.

I love it here. My neighbors in front are a Cuban fisherman and his family. On this same property, in a neat little box-like house, lives another Cuban named A. Lopez. Lopez loves to paint and he keeps everything around here fresh and white. He even paints the bases of the palm tress and surrounds them with a circle of painted white conch shells. The Cuban fisherman and I share an excellent private dock and right now I'm sitting at a table under the picnic shelter in the huge back yard. When I look up from my writing, I can see the Gulf of Mexico, the Cuban fisherman's crawfish boat, and Paulette, who is wearing a bikini and sunning herself on the flybridge of the trusty Original Sea Hunt dive boat.

Life is good, just now. My Cuban neighbors are friendly and it pleases me that, other than exchanging pleasantries ("Hola amigo. Chi chi grande, eh?"), we really can't talk to each other.

Come to think of it, I bet they like it, too.

My next door neighbor is a woman whose name I forget and who keeps a big mountain lion named Christa in a cage in her back yard. This lady goes around with big bruises and teeth marks on her arms where Christa has playfully "nipped" her once in a while.

As I look to my left toward the Faro Blanco Marina and lighthouse, I can see a dozen or so gray pelicans floating in the water hoping for a handout.

No wonder so many writers love the Keys. (By the way, no fewer than eight Pulitzer Prize winners have made their homes in Key West.)

You know, I always enjoy seeing the homes where successful writers have lived. It seems to me they often arrange the best living set-ups of all, perhaps because they can do their work virtually anywhere. I spent a week once in Ocho Rios, Jamaica in the home of the late Ian Fleming. The estate was called Goldeneye and it is where Fleming wrote all of his James Bond novels. The house is situated on a bluff looking north toward Cuba and, at the bottom of the bluff, is a great little area for snorkeling. I'm sure that's where Fleming must have honed his skills as observing and describing the tropical critters James Bond met in his underseas adventures.

Thousands of miles away, in another ocean, if you ever go to Catalina Island, you can stay (I don't recommend it) in a grungy hotel that was once the home of the late Zane Grey. And, even though the hotel is rather sorry, you can still see what a wonderful place it must have been to live in when it was a private residence and somebody owned it who cared.

And Hemingway's house at 907 Whitehead Street in Key West: A great place to live, a great place to write.

Ah, so what? How's any of this going to help you make a buck? That's always the bottom-line, isn't it?

Well, remember how, in my P.S. in last month's letter, I said "Don't miss this one because it's one of the most important I'll ever write"? I meant that. But you know what? Unless you are very, very sharp you may (at first blush) find this letter less useful than the others I write.

Because, unless you're smart enough to know you're not so smart, you're going to figure you don't need this basic, rather obvious, cheerleader-type message and you're going to exhort me to get on with revealing those specific, down-in-the-dirt tricks and techniques which is what you like so much about this letter.

You're going to have to wait till next month. Next month I'm going to reveal step-by-step exactly how to go about creating a wallet-fattening winner. I'm going to put it all together and reveal the entire process. I know that's what you want and that's what I'm going to give you.

In glorious living color with every explicit direction you could possibly want unless you are completely brain dead.

Next month.

But this month, by God, I'm going to give you what you need!

And, to set the stage, so to speak, let me tell you about two recent events, namely:

Let's talk about Byron first. Byron Booth was one of the master teachers at the marketing and entrepreneur bootcamps developed by the Jefferson Institute and he was 48-years old. He lived in Iowa and, to my knowledge, had no health-threatening vices whatsoever. Last week he had trouble getting to sleep one night and he lay awake till about 3:00 a.m. In the morning, his wife Sandy left him a note telling him she'd decided to let him sleep in since he'd had such a hard time nodding off.

And when she came back to the house in the early afternoon, he had passed away!

Just like that.

I'm going to miss that guy. He and I had very different styles but he had a sense of fun about him and I always got a lift whenever we'd meet in some distant city to teach at a bootcamp.

As far as falling from a plane is concerned, it happened to me at the Key West Airport. Paulette and I had chartered a sea plane and we flew to the Dry Tortugas and back because we wanted to do some "reconnaissance" because we're thinking about going there in the Sea Hunt.

It was a gorgeous flight. Very low over the water so we could see the reefs and the islands. But, after we returned and the plane had taxied to a stop, when the pilot said he would get our gear from the plane, I said "no" and insisted on doing it myself.

Those sea planes sit high off the ground. On top of the wheels are pontoons and, on top of the pontoons are struts. So, there I am clamoring down from the cockpit with our gear bags when I lose my balance and fall (very hard) to the blacktop. I smacked my head good and put a hurting on the area around my tailbone.

But I'm OK and I'm so, so happy to be alive.

And so maybe, if I've got a message I truly believe to be important to you, I'd better write it now because I guess you never know, do you? And, how is it that I know so much about what you need? It's very simple. As you know, I've been going all over the U.S. teaching people who want to learn something about how to make monster money in general, and how to create "killer" advertising in specific and... they all seem to have the same "blank spots".

Listen: If you want to be a true success (whatever that means to you), you've got to lead a high-wattage, energized life. You need high energy, enthusiasm, optimism, cheerfulness and... and... and...

You're Probably Being Sucked Dry
By Success-Killing Vampires
From Loser City!

And what is a success killing vampire?

Ah, Igor, I'm glad you asked. A success killing vampire is someone who, when he or she spots someone with a little enthusiasm, a mischievous gleam in their eyes... someone who is daring to make a move... someone with a scheme... a plan... a dream...

They Immediately Sidle Up
To That Person
And Attempt To Drain Him
Of Every Last Vestige Of Optimism!

"Well, Bob, let's not be too hasty. We don't want to end up looking foolish, you know."

"Gee, Rita, it sounds good on paper but, don't forget, this is not the place for a woman."

"Gosh, Randy, I don't think we'll ever get that one past the zoning board. Let's not even try."

"Hey guy, that sounds great. But, before we get too excited, let me play devil's advocate, OK?"

And so on. Listen, you ever hear this one? A guy finishes a round of golf and walks into the bar at the "19th hole." He starts drinking doubles, one right after the other. Finally, the bartender says, "Gee, you must of had a tough day on the course."

"You're not kidding," says the drinker. "You remember Fred, the guy I always play with?"

"Sure," says the bartender.

"Well," says the drinker, "he dropped dead of a heart attack right on the first tee."

"Oh God, that must have been terrible for you," says the bartender.

"You don't know the half it," says the drinker. "all the rest of the day it was...

"Hit The Ball, Drag Fred!"
"Hit The Ball, Drag Fred!"

And so it goes also with all those human ball and chains so many of us insist on dragging around with us all through our lives. You know, John ("Crabtrap") Carlton, who now works with me, says I have a...

Million Dollar Rolodex!

He's right. Not only does my Rolodex contain the names of the top experts in many, many fields, most of those people have been screened for cheerfulness. And, if they ain't fun (no matter how good they are at their specialty), they...

Get Edited Out Of My Life!

Listen up. Most people have an "extended family" of about 200 people. Go through your address book. Your rolodex. Your Christmas card list, etc. Divide all those names into three piles:

Trust me, you've got to edit all those folks in category three out of your life if you ever want to be a success in the fullest sense of the word.

Ah, but there's a problem, isn't there? Some of those energy sucking vampires are family. Maybe one of them, if you are honest enough to admit it, is your spouse. I see it all the time. I'll be teaching at a supercharged bootcamp somewhere and some guy will be there sponging up all that info and starting to get excited but... his wife is with him. And she views her purpose in life as to keep him from getting crazy and going off half-cocked on some nutso scheme.

My ass. Her real purpose in life is to keep his life from getting so exciting he won't make time for a boring wretch like her.

And don't think it doesn't work the other way around, too. There are plenty of energetic, go-getter women who never get to fly because they are chained down to some no-cojones sissy who wants to keep that lady at home in the kitchen where "she belongs."

And, of course, not only are some of these human handicaps family, some of them are very important to your business, aren't they? Hey, maybe Ol' Mr. Bile is a zitzul-draining grouch but he still represents a big chunk of our business and we can't ignore that, can we?

Yes We Can!

Look, all of us, at some time or another, have had to eat a little ca-ca for money. Even me. If the wolf is at the door and I don't know where the rent is coming from, I suppose, if necessary, I'd munch a little doo-doo in order to make ends meet.

However, as long as I can make the rent, I won't gobble any grief from anybody for any reason.

Nor should you. It's not practical. It puts a "governor" on your cheerfulness and energy which is the raw material from which all satisfying wealth is created!

But hey, editing those drainers out of your life isn't the only alternative, right? Certainly not for a nice person like you. Someone who cares. Someone who understands. Someone who is kind and...

Someone Who Is Going To
Change All Those People!

Sure, your spouse may be a dead head now, but wait till you make him/her understand the potential of what you are doing. Things'll be different then, right?

Sure, maybe Mr. Bile has a tendency to suck all cheer from our souls but, if we treat him nicely and kindly enough, for a long enough time, he'll come around, he'll change, right?

Trust me, Buckwheat, you ain't gonna live that long.

Some time ago, I spent a week in Park City, Utah with an old friend and business partner, Dennis Haslinger. Dennis and I hadn't seen each other for a while and, when we weren't skiing or working, we sat around in front of a fireplace and had some of those philosophical "save-the-world" discussions. And here's what's funny: When we asked each other what the single biggest mistake we seemed to be making over and over was, we both had the same answer. And, what it was is, we had both worn ourselves thin trying to get other people (whom we could see had potential), to go for the gusto. Sadly, in most cases...

We Wanted More For Those People
Than They Wanted For Themselves!

Please, please, don't you keep making this same mistake.

So why am I ranting and raving about this? Why eight pages of exhorting you to consciously eliminate the human deadwood from your life? It's very simple. You see, next month I'm going to tell you exactly, in pinpoint specific detail, how you can systematically create a huge marketing winner and gather unto you as much money as your greedy little heart could ever desire. It's going to be one of those ("Aha, so that's how it's done") letters and -- unless you are beyond all hope -- you are going to take that info, run with it, make a lot of bucks and be very grateful to me and then, for some reason or another, you may decide to call my office and...

I Won't Want To Talk With You
Unless You Have Freed Yourself
From All The Human Mulch In Your Life!

And I don't care how much money you make.

You see, damn it, there are too few Byrons and too many Freds.

	Sincerely,
	Gary C. Halbert

Copyright © 2003 Gary C. Halbert.  All Rights Reserved.