I love books and pencils and paper. As long as I can remember, I've been reading and writing things down. I didn't consider myself a writer, just a reader who wrote things down. Most often, I was the only one to read them (and in all honesty, probably the only one who could read them, due to my atrocious handwriting back in the day). 

As I got older, I would begin various writing projects (I always called them projects, not books) but would never pursue them to any sort of logical conclusion (as in, finishing them). And like so many writers, most of my sentences ended up in the fireplace or trashcan, not in front of a reader.

Which is probably a good thing. 

But I got to wondering, if nobody is reading our work, then are we really writing? As a writer, don't we need readers? Doesn't it take someone else to enjoy or love or hate or play off of what we've done?

Perhaps it doesn't in the purest sense - we can simply write in order to write, not to be read - but I realized that I felt as if I wasn't truly writing until I had a reader or two. 

So I determined that I was going to have readers, by golly, and I started off by learning about the publishing industry, and self-publishing and print-on-demand, and how to pitch your manuscript, and all of the stuff you don't need to know about until you've actually written something. It was kind of depressing. I wasn't any closer to getting readers.

But then one day I came across these things called blogs. Perhaps you've heard of them.

Average, everyday people like me were publishing newsletters, articles, editorials, pictures, and videos about a huge range of topics, whenever they wanted to, however they wanted to. No publisher, no printer, no distributor, no editor. No gatekeepers.

We no longer had to wait for the printing presses to roll, or for the morning paper to come out, to learn about the events shaping our world, the reactions to them, or even to write our own response.

I picked topics that I knew about - fatherhood, parenting, natural living - and began posting articles almost every day. Months went by. And then I started getting some readers - readers who left comments and feedback for me. It took some time and some effort, but eventually I got gigs to write stuff for other people. I got published. I got paid, even.

I started connecting to people on Twitter and Facebook and leaving comments on their articles, and in a relatively short amount of time I was hooked in to a pretty diverse group of people - people I've never met face to face, and would probably never meet in person.

Fast forward a couple of years, and now, through my involvement with the Domino Project street team, I get to not only read an advance copy of Poke the Box, but to interact and learn from a group of super-talented and motivated people. Which means that what I'm getting out of my reading experience is much, much more than I ever have before. In essence, I'm getting to be a part of a 70-brain synergy train, and instead of being 'just a book', it's an educational and personal development tool.

When I think back to my first Tweet, it's been quite a journey. I've been able to enter through the digital backdoor, take a ride on the serendipity engine, and experience the 'disruptive' nature of the web for myself.

I still love books, but I'll probably now learn about the newest titles on topics I care about via the web, not the newspaper or the bookstore. And then use social media to cultivate a direct relationship with the authors and fans of the books I enjoy. 

I still love pencils and paper, but I'm still more likely to write an email than a letter. And I figure it's better that way, as you'll actually get an answer now.

I'm still looking for readers, but now I refer to my projects 'books'. And thanks to platforms like blogs and social networking sites and the Domino Project, there's never been a better time to finish them than right now.

Because the digital backdoor is open.

And since he doesn't know about our relationship, I think it's ok for me to admit it here.

The love part comes from the delicious nuggets of wisdom I get from his blog each day, and from the many things I've learned from reading his books (for me, most noteably The Dip and Tribes).

The hate part comes from those moments when I'm reading something of his that really hits home, when I slap my forehead and say "Well, yeah. That's so obvious. I wish I could have put it so simply and eloquently." (OK, so it's not hate, it's more properly envy, I think, but saying I have a love/envy relationship just doesn't have the same ring to it...)

As a writer, I keep my ear to the ground for new ideas and efforts in publishing, promotion, and distribution, so when I heard about his latest venture, The Domino Project, I immediately went over and signed up for updates. (Yes, I'm a glutton for a full inbox each morning - it helps me feel loved...)

"The Domino Project is named after the domino effect—one powerful idea spreads down the line, pushing from person to person. The Project represents a fundamental shift in the way books (and digital media based on books) have always been published. Eventually consisting of a small cadre of stellar authors, this is a publishing house organized around a new distribution channel, one that wasn’t even a fantasy when most publishers began." 

About a week or so ago, I saw a call for applications for a Domino Street Team. They said "You're a good fit if: You are: a digital native who blogs, tweets and instagrams like nobody’s business. You take risks, challenge conventions, and care about reinventing outdated systems." 

I'm thinking that, heck yeah, I'm an oversharer, so on impulse, I applied. Of course, I often apply for beta invites and to be a part of new ventures that speak to my interests, but usually never hear back - guess I'm not ready for rockstar status...

But on Tuesday, I got an email from Amber Rae, the Domino Project evangelist, with this subject: "Guess what? You're in." 

I about fell out of my chair, but recovered enough to read on: "We were blown away by your application, and we'd be thrilled to have you join the Domino Street Team."

Whoah. I check to make sure it was addressed to me, because to be honest, I didn't even remember what I wrote on the application, so I'm thinking they have me confused with someone else.

But no, it's correct, so I must have had a moment of inspiration when I was filling out the application. I start checking out the other members of the team, and to be quite honest, I'm humbled to be in such great company - so many movers and shakers! I'm wondering what I did that stood out enough to be included with my fellow team members who have stellar bios...

About the only thing concrete I can share about it right now is that the first title to be published by the Domino Project is Seth's newest book, Poke the Box (no, it's not X-rated), which is available for pre-order now, with an expected ship date of March 1st.

I'm eagerly awaiting my copy, but here's the blurb so far:

"If you're stuck at the starting line, you don't need more time or permission. You don’t need to wait for a boss’s okay or to be told to push the button; you just need to poke. 

Poke the Box is a manifesto by bestselling author Seth Godin that just might make you uncomfortable. It’s a call to action about the initiative you’re taking-– in your job or in your life. Godin knows that one of our scarcest resources is the spark of initiative in most organizations (and most careers)-– the person with the guts to say, “I want to start stuff.” 

Poke the Box just may be the kick in the pants you need to shake up your life."

I'll keep ya posted on the details of the Domino Project.

Thanks, Seth. Thanks, Amber Rae. (And kudos to Seth for enabling comments on this new site)