I remember my first few years as a magician.

Most of my time was wrapped up in honing my craft, learning new tricks and perfecting the movements that would make the execution flawless. I once almost set my apartment on fire trying to find the best way to ignite flash paper (a highly flammable substance used for the production of objects).

That’s where most of my work stayed.

Here’s how my brain put it together:

Since you’re doing so much with the art, people are going to be banging down the doors and demanding you to perform shows for them… especially when they see how you can handle a deck of cards.

I’d barely even perform in public venues when people would ask to see a trick because, hey, my art was sacred.

The number of shows I booked with this method – 0.

The number of people interested in seeing more of my magic using this method – 0.

It wasn’t until I got out there, pounded the pavement and showed people what I offered that I finally got a few bookings. A lot of work was required to get the ball rolling, but I’m still getting calls today (even though I retired from shows a few years ago) as a result of those efforts.

My early years could be defined as an optimist buying a lottery ticket as a retirement plan.

It’s nothing more than idleness… which is another fancy way of saying laziness.

At a party last year, I met someone who believed they could be a best selling author without ever showing anybody their writing… or building a fanbase… or network… or doing anything to get noticed.

“I believe good work stands on its own and that’s all that’s needed.”

This person believes all they need to do is write a story and publishers will be begging to market it to the ends of the Earth. Needless to say, this person has never been published.

Another lottery ticket buyer.

I’ve never met a successful person who has used idleness as their strategy.

Probably because it doesn’t work.