... Turns Out A Book Can Be Your Wedge (or Your Hedge).
Howdy Modern Authors,
I have a pretty cool job. Every week, I meet a lot of people with big, honest dreams.
“I want to be a speaker.”
“I want to coach executives.”
“I want to quit my job and work for myself.”
“I want to be a full-time creator.”
They’re not unrealistic dreams.
They’re just… fragile.
Because when you say them out loud, they sound less like plans and more like fantasies. And deep down, most people know it.
Not because they’re lazy.
Not because they’re incapable.
But because the path from here to there feels terrifyingly unclear.
So the dream stays vague. Or distant. Or wrapped in humor.
And nothing actually changes.
Last week, I was on a podcast interview and the host asked me: "what surprises you most about people who fail at writing their book... the people who quit and never finish?"
It was a great question, one I'd never been asked. I had to think about it for a minute and then it struck me.
"They hurry," I blurted out. "If you want to go fast, go alone... but a book requires you to go far... so you need to go together."
What I’ve learned, through research, teaching, and watching hundreds of modern authors move forward, is this:
The problem isn’t ambition.
It’s that most people try to jump straight to the finish line.
What they need instead is a project with a high floor and a high ceiling.
That’s why I believe books, today, are one of the most powerful wedges and hedges an ambitious person can choose.
So let's dive into how to design your your book as a project with a high floor and a high ceiling.
The Fantasy Problem
Here’s a pattern I see over and over.
Someone says they want to be a speaker.
I ask, “About what?”
They tell me the outcome:
– Big stages
– Meaningful impact
– Being known for their ideas
But when I ask about the work, writing, shaping ideas, clarifying a point of view, teaching, it gets fuzzy.
This isn’t dishonesty. It’s human.
We’re great at imagining finished versions of ourselves.
We’re terrible at committing to beginner versions.
So the dream stays aspirational.
And every year that passes without action makes it feel riskier to start.
Why Most Big Leaps Are the Wrong Move
Here’s the uncomfortable truth.
If you decided today that in 12 months you were going to:
– Become a paid speaker
– Launch a coaching practice
– Quit your job
– Build a creator business
You’d probably fail.
Not because you’re incapable.
But because you’d be trying to compress a decade of learning into a year.
That kind of pressure turns curiosity into stress and exploration into performance.
It also makes people avoid starting at all.
What actually works is something quieter.
The Power of a High-Floor, High-Ceiling Project
A high-floor project means:
A high-ceiling project means:
That combination is rare.
Most projects have:
– A low floor and a high ceiling (risky startups, all-in pivots)
– Or a high floor and low ceiling (safe, but limiting)
Books are unusual.
The worst-case scenario of writing a book is still meaningful.
You have:
– A body of thinking clarified
– A permanent asset
– Proof you can finish something most people never do
The best-case scenario?
Your book becomes:
– A credential
– A calling card
– A conversation starter
– A platform
– A wedge into rooms you couldn’t access before
That’s why I often describe books today as the modern one-year master’s degree for aspiring thought leaders and solopreneurs.
This Is How It Worked for Me
I didn’t grow up dreaming of becoming a professor. Heck, I didn't have the grades to get into the schools professors come from.
But at some point, I realized I loved teaching. I loved shaping ideas. I loved watching people grow through projects.
The traditional path was obvious: get a PhD.
The problem?
That path didn’t feel like me. It felt slow, expensive, and disconnected from the kind of work I actually wanted to do.
So I took a different route.
I wrote a book (actually it was two in two years).
Not as a résumé stunt.
As a way to test whether I actually liked the work of thinking deeply, writing clearly, and teaching ideas at scale.
What I didn’t realize at the time was that the book became evidence.
When Georgetown eventually hired me, I was teaching at a school I couldn’t get into as an undergrad.
The committee didn’t just see “author” as a nice bonus.
They saw:
– Proof of expertise
– Proof of discipline
– Proof of perspective
The book didn’t guarantee the outcome.
It made the outcome possible.
That’s what a wedge does.
What My Research on Projects Taught Me
Over the years, I’ve studied what actually accelerates people.
Not credentials.
Not résumés.
Not even raw talent.
It’s projects.
Projects that are:
– Finishable
– Public
– Slightly uncomfortable
– Aligned with a bigger curiosity
Books happen to be one of the most effective forms of this.
Why?
Because they force clarity.
They surface what you actually believe.
They create feedback loops.
They invite conversation.
Most importantly, they turn vague ambition into something testable.
Books Turn Dreams Into Data
When someone tells me they want to be a speaker, I don’t say, “Go get booked.”
That advice is pretty shallow... the path to be rep'ed by a speaker bureau usually means a lot of high profile speaking, speaker showcases, and a lot of free work. Especially if you're someone who has given one or two speeches, setting yourself on a decade long journey to become a full time speaker by "get booked" is a risk...
... especially if you're not 100% certain it's your calling and your passion.
It's a risk... and a big one.
So I tell that person to hedge:
say, “Write the book you’d want to give away after your talk.”
If they want to coach, I don’t say, “Build a funnel.”
I say, “Write the book that explains how you think.”
Because books answer the most important question early:
Do you actually enjoy the work behind the dream?
I'm so grateful I didn't set off on a decades-long journey to get my PhD because I would become a researcher... not a teacher. That work isn't what I wanted to do anyways.
I hedged... I wrote a book, figured out the part of the university and professor gig I enjoyed, and got there. I hedged... and so should most people if they don't have clarity of certainty.
Do you like:
– Writing
– Teaching
– Clarifying ideas
– Revising your thinking
– Engaging with readers
If you hate that process, becoming a speaker or coach won’t magically feel better.
The book gives you information, not just hope.
Wedge vs. Hedge
This is where the framing really matters.
A wedge is something that opens new doors.
A hedge is something that protects you while you explore.
A book can be both.
As a hedge:
– You don’t have to quit your job
– You don’t have to announce a massive pivot
– You don’t have to be “ready”
You can write while you live your life.
As a wedge:
– It gets you into conversations
– It creates optionality
– It attracts opportunities you didn’t chase
That’s a rare combination.
And it's exactly what led to my own pathblazing. I hedged and I wedged, and I got to the right outcome for me years, perhaps decades, faster.
The book was my hedge and my wedge.
And for many of us, that's the exact frame you need.
Why Books Work Especially Well Right Now
In a world dominated by short-form content, books still signal depth.
They say:
“This person has thought about something long enough to finish it.”
That matters to:
– Podcast hosts
– Event organizers
– Companies
– Universities
– Media
But modern authors don’t stop at book sales.
They design books to unlock:
– Stages
– Clients
– Collaborations
– Communities
The book is the foundation, not the finish line.
How to Use a Book as a One-Year Test (aka Your Hedge-Wedge)
If you’re thinking about writing a book as a wedge or hedge (or both), here’s the practical approach I recommend.
1. Stop Asking “Is This My Big Idea?”
Ask:
Do you want to learn if you enjoy:
– Teaching?
– Writing?
– Leading discussions?
– Being visible?
Your book should answer that question.
2. Design a Book You Can Finish
Not your life’s work.
Not the definitive manifesto.
A focused book that:
– Solves one problem
– Speaks to one audience
– Reflects how you actually think
Finishing is the goal. Everything else compounds from there.
3. Share Before You’re Ready
The fastest way to kill momentum is to treat your book like a secret.
Share ideas.
Talk about what you’re learning.
Let people react.
Books get better when they’re shaped in conversation.
4. Let the Book Lead You
Don’t decide upfront what the book “has to become.”
Let it show you:
– Who resonates
– What questions keep coming up
– Where the energy is
That’s how wedges widen.
The Real Question Underneath All of This
Most people don’t avoid their dreams because they’re lazy.
They avoid them because:
– Starting feels too small compared to the fantasy
– Failing feels too public
– Admitting uncertainty feels uncomfortable
Books solve that by reframing the goal.
You’re not committing to a new identity.
You’re committing to a project.
You're developing a one-year masters degree... a hedge-wedge on your future self.
A project with:
– A high floor
– A high ceiling
– And real information on the other side
That’s not reckless.
That’s intelligent ambition.
That's your Hedge and Wedge.
So… Is This Your Year?
If you’ve been carrying a dream you keep joking about, or deferring to “someday”, here’s my honest take:
Don’t leap.
Don’t quit.
Don’t declare.
Build a wedge.
Or a hedge.
Or both.
Write the book that helps you find out what’s real.
Because the people who move forward aren’t the ones with the clearest fantasies.
They’re the ones who choose projects that turn curiosity into momentum.
And books, done right, are still one of the best places to start.
Funny enough, that's why I've just started a new one in 2026... and with a little luck it becomes my wedge too.
If you need help deciding if 2026 is your year for a wedge or a hedge or both, shoot me a note. Happy to help you think through it.
Eric
Originally published in The Modern Author newsletter.
