There’s a curious ritual playing out in networking groups and one-to-ones these days. It usually begins with:
“Have you heard of [insert name of self-help author with suspiciously glowing Amazon reviews]?”
No. No, I haven’t.
But before you can blink, out comes the phone, the Kindle app, and a passionate recommendation for a 162-page self-published “bestseller” titled: Unlocking Your Vibrational Synergy: How to 10x Your Inner ROI in 2 Weeks. Apparently, this bloke used to be in finance and now teaches people how to monetise their authentic essence.
It’s tempting to nod, make a note, and fall down the rabbit hole. One book leads to a YouTube channel. One “like” unlocks a paid community. Before you know it, you’re deep into a 12-week course about discovering your quantum mission in life. You just wanted to know how to grow your mailing list.
The trouble, of course, is the recommendation effect. The minute someone in a suit says they’re “reading something incredible,” our brains do a little backflip.
Maybe we’re missing out.
Maybe this is the thing that will change everything.
(After all, he’s got a ring light and a podcast.)
Now we have the authors themselves. Oh yes, the ones who show up at networking breakfasts brandishing their own book like it is a Nobel Prize-winning manuscript, when in reality it is a glorified blog post padded with double spacing and a stock photo cover. You have to nod, smile, and accept it with the same strained politeness reserved for homemade chutney from someone’s aunt. Inside, you are dying a little, not because they wrote a book, but because now you are expected to read it, leave a five-star review, and act like it redefined your approach to life, business, and morning affirmations.
So everyone has the option to be an author now. Not just an author, but a guru, a thought leader, a “you’ve got to read this” kind of name. And while it’s lovely that creativity is more accessible than ever, there’s a downside to having the floodgates wide open; most of it is noise. Badly typeset, typo-riddled noise.
But let’s pause for a moment. Once upon a time, there was a little gatekeeper called the publishing industry. Yes, it had flaws. Yes, it missed the odd genius. But it also stopped most of the dross ever making it to paper. You needed an editor, a proofreader, an actual argument that made it past chapter two.
So, next time someone whispers, “Have you heard of…?”, take a breath. Ask if they’ve read it properly, or if they skimmed the first three pages and followed the guy on Instagram. Ask if the book actually helped them or just made them feel inspired in a vague, non-actionable way.
Because here’s the truth. Not every self-published author is a genius, and not every “bestseller” is best at anything. Sometimes, the best thing you can do for your time, your focus, and your sanity is politely smile and say,
“No thanks. I’m curating my distractions more carefully these days.”
Photo by Vlad Deep
