Chronicles of a Girl Starting Over

Today I finished Tony Hsieh’s book, Delivering Happiness.

Wow.

The first thing I considered before writing this was that everyone can (and probably will) take away something different from reading this book.  And because I am only me, I can only explain it from my perspective.

In April of 2009 I was sitting across from my old boss, being given an unexpected raise and told she could see me as COO in the future. Fast forward to September 2009 and I was receiving my severance package.  If there was ever a perfect time in my life to read this book…now would be it.

Immediately, Tony speaks to you.  Here is a book written by the CEO of a huge successful company, but never once did I picture him sitting behind a big mahogany desk in a suit and tie. While he tells his story beginning from his button-making business in middle school, all the way up the the “marriage” of Amazon and Zappos, you really feel like he’s sitting next to you in a bar and just…talking.

I really did expect his story to go something like this: I went to school, said ‘screw it’ and started my own business, sold it for a lot, helped start Zappos, insert one billion dollars.

I was seriously mistaken.

Tony’s story really showed me that everything isn’t always going to go your way, but it’s the believing that it eventually will that gets you through those low points. And not just the believing, but the doing something about it.

Then there is how Tony speaks of Zappos. You can tell how passionate he is in every word he’s writing.  This rare culture Zappos built was intoxicating just reading about it in a book.  I felt like I knew Tony, Fred, and Alfred and that I had been along for the entire ride.  I could practically see the smiling faces of the hundreds of employees who love going into work every day.  It made me go onto their website and see if there were any job openings (alas, there were none I qualified for), and then onto their blogs.   While reading through the entries I felt like I was a part of the company because I knew their inner workings.

And the connection DH made between me and this mega company was solidified when this tweet appeared on my screen today:

I gasped. I know who Alfred is. I know his history with Tony and Zappos. It actually made me sad.  I didn’t think it was possible to form an emotional attachment in a piece of non-fiction.

So enough of my sappy opinion and personal attachment to 250-plus pages.  Who should read this book?

• College students who have no idea what the hell they can possibly do after graduating.
• Those non-college bound who have no idea what the hell they can possibly do because they didn’t go college.
• Employees who feel like they’re at the bottom of the totem pole at their job and don’t think they’ll go anywhere.
• Anyone who was in the fast lane…and got spun off (like me!)
• Anyone who thinks mistake is a synonym for failure.
• Business owners who want to know how to run a company.
• Business owners who think they know how to run a company.
• Anyone who has ever asked themselves, “Am I happy?”

To sum it up, everyone over the age of 17.

In closing:

Dear Tony,

Hire me.

Thanks,
Amanda

I love books.  Even better, I love used books. Books that have been read. Sure, I could wander around Barnes & Noble forever, and yes, my Nook is a second limb, but oh I do love used books.

There was a used book store around the corner from my old office, and if I had time to kill I would go get a coffee and walk around the book store.  I worked around the corner for three years and the only thing I ever bought was an old edition of Breakfast of Champions for five dollars. It was the 1973 hardcover edition (no idea when it was printed), but without a dust jacket.  It was the first “grown up” book I remember reading.  And I was really very excited about my new edition of Breakfast of Champions, trying to imagine who had read it before me.  I mean, it looked pretty beat up, and everyone who is anyone has read at least one Vonnegut book, right?

I read the entire book that weekend cover to cover. That Monday, I spilt a soda all over it. It was ruined, so I tossed it, ending my stint with used books.

Today I got a belated birthday present from my mom, and I could tell immediately it was a book, which I found odd since she was the one who bought me the Nook.  She found for me the original edition of my favorite book, Mrs. Mike.  Not only is it the first edition, it’s the fifth impression. Why is this all pretty cool? Because, I now own all three: 1947, 1968, and 2002 (bottom to top).

I’m going to take a break from Delivering Happiness (almost done), and read my new/old copy of Mrs. Mike tonight.  I’ll make sure the other editions are on my nightstand; wouldn’t want them to feel left out.