Authenticity Archive

I’m Eleanor, but Not Roosevelt

Posted January 14, 2015 By Reba J. Hoffman, Ph.D.

As I waited for my load assignment coming off home time, I wandered into the Walmart. And, as is my habit, I made my way to the book section. I always want to see if my friends’ books are there. I have a bad habit of browsing sideways and am notorious for getting so caught up with the titles, I’m constantly bumping into people. If that was illegal, I’d have gone to prison a long time ago. Such was the case today.

As I raised up to apologize for colliding with another shopper, my eyes connected with Eleanor. She is a lovely teenager with Downs Syndrome. Before I could utter words of apology, she blurted out, “I’m Eleanor, but not Roosevelt.”

“Well, Miss Eleanor, I’m so sorry I bumped into you. I wasn’t paying attention.”

“No you weren’t. Know how I could tell? Because you were looking down and I’m way up here.”

I was instantly captivated by the sparkle in her eye when she told how she could easily see I was going to hit her. She was just as emphatic when she repeatedly told me she was NOT Eleanor Roosevelt.

“Eleanor, do you know who Eleanor Roosevelt was?”

“She was a very important and smart woman. That’s why my mama named me Eleanor. That’s how I knew you were going to run into me.”

“That’s RIGHT! You’re mama sure gave you a great name.”

Eleanor’s life is simple. She is happy, something conspicuously missing in today’s America. She takes things in stride, like a stranger bumping into her in the book isle at Walmart. She’s never met a stranger and she finds the good in everyone. 

“You make my heart happy and warm, like hot Krispy-Kreme donuts,” she said of me.

“What do you want to be when you grow up?” I just had to ask.

“I want to be a helper.”

“A helper?”

“Yes, I want to help people with whatever they need me to help them with. My heart jumps up and down in my chest when I do that.” She placed her hand over her heart as if she were going to say the Pledge of Allegiance. “My heart is right here. Did you know that?”

“Well I do now, and I bet it’s really big.”

“You’re funny. What’s your name?”



“Yes, Reba, but not McEntire.”

“Like Eleanor, but not Roosevelt.! We’re just alike!”

Eleanor erupted into uncontrollable laughter that flooded my heart. Instantly, we were holding our sides in the middle of Walmart. For whatever reason, because our first names are also names of famous people, she and I made a connection. At that instant we were of kindred spirit. After several minutes we said out goodbyes. I watched as Eleanor walked off recounting the entire scene to her all-knowing mom. 

It was just a brief moment in time that played a song on the strings of my heart. Eleanor, but not Roosevelt, enriched me today. Thrilled my heart. Bathed my soul in warmth and sincerity that could only have come from her. As I walked back to my truck, I realized her life’s goal will indeed be fulfilled if she just stands in the presence of others. She will surely help anyone she is around just by being herself.

Thank you Eleanor, but not Roosevelt… From your new friend, Reba, but not McEntire.




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Live Like an Apple Tree

Posted February 28, 2014 By Reba J. Hoffman, Ph.D.

While in Tennessee on the Road to Freedom Tour, I met the AMAZING Jeff York. You can read about him and his story here. As he stood propped up against his desk, he said he didn’t know much about trees. If he walked out through the forest, he’d be hard pressed to identify one tree or another by its trunk.

On the other hand, if he passed one and apples hung off the branches, he’d know immediately that it was an apple tree. He’d recognize it by the fruit.

Did  know that most people spend the majority of their day and energy trying to convince others they are NOT something rather than just being who they are? It’s true.

When I hear or witness that, I always think of an apple tree. I imagine that tree frantically running around the orchard and the forest trying to convince all the other plants and people it’s not a rose bush.

I imagine how tragic it would be come harvest time in the mountains of Appalachia if all the apple trees had done that same thing. We’d have no apples, no apple cider or apple butter. No apple pie. That’s un-American!

Thankfully, the apple tree doesn’t do that. Instead, it spends all its days, nights, energy and resources just being who it is, and doing what it was created to do: be an apple tree.

It doesn’t try to convince anyone it’s not a rose bush. It just lives as an apple tree.

It doesn’t try to be a rose bush. It just works at being an apple tree.

Pretty soon, the fruit shows up and no one has to wonder whether it’s a rose bush, or even an orange tree. Apple trees don’t talk. They can’t shout and tell everyone it’s an apple tree and yet, everyone knows. Why? Well, the big, fat, juicy apples hanging off the branches are enough of a clue that anyone would get it.

Here are just a few things I learned from the apple tree:


  • It didn’t have to convince anyone of who it was. It just had to be itself. The fruit speaks for itself.


  • It didn’t have to try to NOT be something else. It didn’t put forth a second’s effort trying to NOT be a pecan tree.


  • What’s on the inside will one day be on the outside for everyone to see. It’s no secret. It is what it is and that fruit will one day announce the apple tree’s identity to the world.

Look, please don’t waste another moment convincing the world of who you are… or aren’t. Instead, spend the time just BEING who you are and let your fruit speak for itself.

Live like the apple tree. The world will get it… and appreciate it. I promise.

Has that happened to you? Have you tried to convince others that you’re NOT something rather than just being who you are? Share it here!

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The Heartbeat of America is Alive and Well

Posted September 9, 2013 By Reba J. Hoffman, Ph.D.

Help Henderson4They lined up as far as the eye could see, the sun over the stadium casting the all-telling shadow over them as they waited. Inside the stadium, volunteers unpacked boxes, set up tables, cooked food. In just moments, lives would change.

For the workers, it seems like not enough time to get things ready. For those who waited outside, the moment would not come soon enough. 

I walked slowly through the crowd with the other workers, praying for and pronouncing blessings on these citizens of Henderson, Kentucky. An elderly man saw my knee brace and said he needed one too. He raised his shorts and showed me scars from surgeries. Had mine fit his enormous leg, I would have given to him. 

Mothers with children asked that we pray that their daddies would be released from jail. They were too young to understand he’d Help Henderson T-shirtcommitted a crime. They just felt the gigantic hole it left in their hearts since daddy left. A lone child stood in the wings listening intently as we prayed for a particular family. As the team walked away, she tugged at Melody’s hand and quietly asked if she could pray for her daddy. He was in jail, too.

Those in need lined up in complete orderly fashion, patiently waiting for their turn at each booth. No pushing. No shoving. Just grateful realization that people in this town understand they have needs and are doing something about it.

Mothers, grandmothers, daughters, sisters walked together, hoping against hope that their lives would improve today. Wide-eyed children took balloons and candy from agency tables as moms filled out applications to receive aid and Help Henderson8other assistance. One end zone was filled with clothing, shoes, books and toys donated and manned by Goodwill Industries.

The other end held a prayer tent, filled with volunteers ready to intercede for the needs of others. Between helping with the event, I walked around observing how this town takes care of its own. Rich, poor, young, old all together in one place working together to make life better. 

As a praise band sang and prayer blasted from the stadium PA system, I knew in no uncertain terms that the heartbeat of America is alive and well. God is still on the throne in Kentucky and hearts are still tender toward Help Henderson6neighbors in need. 

I left there and went to a block party in an underprivileged neighborhood. We cooked hotdogs, hamburgers and offered fun and
fellowship to people who just don’t normally receive and outreached hand… well, except in Henderson. Kids played on inflatable obstacle courses while others looked on, eyes gleaming as they anticipated their turn. 

They were grateful. Joyful. Filled with wonder that total strangers would reach out to them where they live Block Partyand extend the right hand of fellowship. It was a good day Saturday in Western Kentucky. God is very much present on the Ohio River and the heartbeat of America is alive and well. 

There’s a lot of gold in Henderson, Kentucky. It fills the hearts of the kind people here and they can’t rest until they use that prosperity to help their fellow citizens who are in need. Thank you for reminding me how people should act.



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Things are Black and White?

Posted September 5, 2013 By Reba J. Hoffman, Ph.D.
Fountain in Downtown

The Fountain in Central Park

Yesterday I spent the day in the park in downtown Henderson, KY. It’s a great place to prop my leg up… and to meet the local people. It was cool and sunny. I simply could not resist.

After lunch, I moseyed back to the gazebo and met a very interesting character. Pertis Cosby (no relation to Bill, he was quick to point out) is a 73 year old man who was born and raised in that area. One of 17 children, he told story after story from his childhood.

I hung on every word.

He also gave me the historical account of growing up in Kentucky as a black man. I looked in the direction he pointed when he referred to “the white funeral home” or “the black church” in town. I could almost understand why some churches were primarily segregated.

The Ohio River

The Ohio River

It’s more of a cultural than racial thing. But dead people? Seriously?

I could not resist asking him why they had different funeral homes for different races, he replied, “Well, I’m gonna tell ya. White folks just didn’t want black folks coming to their funeral homes.”

“Why?” I just didn’t get it. After a person draws their last breath, their body is just a shell… an empty house.

Mr. Cosby took a deep breath and ventured, “well, it’s cause when a black person dies, we black folks loves to eat. And the white folks just don’t like all that food in their funeral homes.”

I sat in silence as I let it sink in, realizing that I had just assumed it was something racial. Before having the facts, I incorrectly concluded it was about black and white, something with prejudice. And all the time, it was about food. 

I looked around and didn’t see black and white. In this small town, I saw all the colors of the rainbow (at least I think I did. I’m color blind). 

Pertis was surprised when I shook his hand and called him Mr. Cosby. He said no stranger had ever shown him respect like that. He’s my elder and that was the way I was taught. I never thought twice about that. 

Ohio River4

Railroad Bridge Over the Ohio River

Many of the displays of prejudice from him and from me in our lives was not out of hatred at all. There was no malice in his going to the “black only” juke joints and I had no hatred at all towards an elderly black woman when I, at the age of five, willingly showed her the way to the “colored only” restroom.

On both sides of the color wheel, we innocently accepted things saying, “That’s just the way it is.”

I hope I enriched Mr. Cosby’s life yesterday. I know he did mine and I will be forever grateful that I learned a better, more respectful way to treat other human beings God created. Hearing his perspective of the world in the south was amazing. I’m so grateful that I got to share it and hope I see him again before I leave.

Godspeed, Mr. Cosby. 






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It’s Not About the Bike

Posted August 28, 2013 By Reba J. Hoffman, Ph.D.
Heading Out at Sunrise

Setting out at sunrise

Since I began this Road to Freedom Bicycle Tour across America, I’ve said that it’s not about the bike. It’s about getting into the lives and hearts of the women who I come in contact with day after day whose lives are changed.

They have been liberated, healed and have gained courage to face their fear and find the freedom they were meant to enjoy. I’ve met such incredible people on this trip. It’s been amazing and I’m so grateful to God that He chose me to ride my bicycle for women who don’t have a voice.

While the Road to Freedom will not end, it appears the bicycle portion is completing its course. I injured my shoulder on day four of the tour. It’s been up and down but I’ve been nursing it back to health. While pushing my bike last week through ten miles of soft gravel, I apparently completed tearing what was only a partial tear to the rotator cuff. I received a diagnosis of a full thickness tear.

My original  plan was to ride back to Evansville, Indiana Monday, stay for a couple of days and slowly meander northeast to arrive in

Farm Road in Illinois

Farm Road in Illinois

Indianapolis on September 11th for the American Christian Fiction Writer’s conference. That would give it a chance to calm down and begin the healing process. Five more days there would be just what I would need to complete the rest of the tour. 

I set out on Monday morning at sunrise heading back east, careful to avoid the soft gravel road. I’d covered about 55 miles of a 70 mile ride when I tore the medial collateral  ligament in my knee. I was on the side of the road for about an hour sitting and praying. Every time I stood up, I would get dizzy and nauseous, a clear indication it was more than just a tweak. I had a serious injury.

Thankfully, I was close enough to my destination that my two new friends, Clydean and Melody, were able to come pick me up. I rode safe and sound in the comfort of a vehicle for the remainder of my journey.

As word began to spread of my injuries, I have received an incredible outpouring of well wishes, concerns about how disappointed I must be not being able to continue my ride. Although I am so grateful for the outpouring of love and support,  this recent turn of events has done nothing to deter me from my mission. The Road to Freedom is alive and well, and soon to be well traveled.

Though I can’t get on the bike right now, it’s not about the bike. Every mile I’ve ridden has been filled with challenge, ministry, hardship, fulfillment, excitement, fatigue. God has always led me to minister to others. That’s who I am. That’s who He’s called me to be.

My friend Melody said it perfectly, “well, if you can’t go to them, we’ll just have to bring them to you!” We already have ministry scheduled in her home for tonight!


The Ride back east to Indiana and Kentucky

The Ride back east to Indiana and Kentucky

The Lord is showing me that the Road to Freedom began on the bike, and will continue as a foundation to help women who have been the victims of violent assault and sexual abuse. That will be the direction Road to Freedom takes. What began on an bike in the vast wilderness of country roads in America will reach more people than I ever thought possible.

The bike gave birth to something that the country has hooked on to and will be used for years to come to minister to women who have suffered in silence far too long.

I will remain in the Henderson, Kentucky area until September 11th writing, planning and preparing to take Road to Freedom to a greater level. 

I will continue to blog about the experiences, adventures and truth God reveals to me through this amazing journey. I need you more than ever to help me spread the word about Road to Freedom. Though it began on two wheels, it was never about the bike, but rather about the 1 in 3 women in our country who will be violently attacked or suffer sexual abuse in their lifetime.

I will also work on the book that is coming out of this amazing adventure. I now have the time to do it!

Through your help, encouragement and prayer support,  I’ve been able to reach thousands of women, some–like Kayledean–we’ve met and shared the celebration of

Oh, that hurts!

Oh, that hurts!

triumph. Some we’ve wept with as they poured out the stories, finally having someone who would listen and understand. Others we may never meet but they are being touched nonetheless.

We have momentum and it didn’t come from the bike. It came from you helping me get the word out. And the word continues to spread. We have to keep it going. I may be shipping Dakota home but the Road to Freedom will continue to be the path I take. Please continue to take the journey with me. I’d miss you terribly if you didn’t.

Women need us. We need to bind up the broken hearted and set the captives free.


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You Know You’re In the Country…

Posted August 3, 2013 By Reba J. Hoffman, Ph.D.

Tennessee State LineYesterday, I had the privilege of meeting writer, Jeff York. I traveled from Corinth, Mississippi over the windy roads to Chewalla, TN.

Jeff is an amazing man and journalist for several area newspapers, including the Daily Corinthian, the paper that picked up my story.

 Jeff writes feature stories of amazing people without even leaving his home. In fact, he can’t. He suffers from a rare disease called Fibrodysplasia Ossificans Progressiva (FOP). He is one in 2 million who suffer from this crippling disease.

 Because Jeff’s body produces bone within muscles and connective tissue, his joints have fused together. He spends most of his day bent at a 90 degree angle over his desk where he surfs then internet, interviews the people he writes about and encourages those he meets on the internet.

He was completely unassuming and feels that, while he may not be able to do some things like attend church these days, he can certainly do some things. And for that, he is grateful and gladly does what he can.

The first question he asked me after introductions was, “Where do you attend church?” Ever the evangelist, Jeff jokes about never having been able to touch the top of his head.

"It's the Blue House on the Left after the fork"

“It’s the Blue House on the Left after the fork”

Amazingly, until ten years ago, Jeff coached his church softball team that was widely feared because of the vast numbers of championships they won. Touting the orange accessories throughout his room, Jeff is quick to tell you he is a die hard Tennessee Vols fan.

Just ask quickly, he makes it clear that is not what he wants to be remembered for. He wants people to remember him as perhaps Andrew, a less popular disciple who just went about bringing Jesus and encouragement to all those he came in contact with.

Just being in his presence for a few minutes, I have no doubt he’ll be known to all just as he wishes. He stands less than four feet high but his spirit is that of a mighty oak tree.

As we left Jeff and headed down the back roads of Tennessee, a friend called from a different part of the state. We were hoping to eat lunch at someplace in that area to have a unique and original experience. Trust me when I tell you there are no fast food chains in Chewalla, TN.

My friend, Mary, stayed on the phone with me and guided us road by road to the best place to eat she knew of: her daddy’s house.

“It’s the blue house on the left after you bare left at the fork. It’s right before you get to the big barn.”

Mr Sheltons Barn2You know you’re in the country…

Mr. Shelton, a World War II veteran who had been wounded in battle three times, opened his home to two strangers. We gorged ourselves on fresh vegetables he grew in his own garden while he regaled us with stories of The War.

His daughter took us out to the barn afterwards and my mind saw my friend, Mary, as a little girl running and playing in those rolling hills that sat only a few miles from where the battles of Shiloh and Corinth had been fought.

It was so quiet, I could hear the beat of my own heart. But I also heard the heartbeat of rural Tennessee, a man who bravely served our country in the Army, and the cries of men who marched those fields in search of peace in a nation divided over a hundred years before.

As we finally drove away, I turned to my friend and said, “You know you’re in the country when someone on the phone directs you to Me on Mr Sheltons Tractortheir family’s house for a home cooked meal.”

I marveled at how they had no fear at all of letting strangers into their home and shared their food with them. Nor did they try to entertain or put on airs. They were just precious country folk who were willing to share of their bounty with travelers.

You know you’re in the country when you hear the heartbeat of America beating alive and well. What a day!

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Today, Trust in the Nature of YOU

Posted May 9, 2013 By Reba J. Hoffman, Ph.D.
CRANE5One morning I sat on my deck overlooking the lake as central Florida woke up to a Sunday. I watched as a lily white whooping crane spread his massive wings, fly out over the water and bring back a little fish. It was comical how it slithered down his narrow throat.

A white ibis rooted out grub worms with his long, slender bill while a young squirrel hung to an oak tree enjoying his morning acorns. In the distance, a black cormorant walked to the shoreline underwater, then spread his massive black wings in the sun to dry. I was struck at how naturally these creatures just did what they do. No fretting. No worrying about whether they should do it. No wondering what the other would think.

Each approached life very differently. The crane flew for food and ate fish. The white ibis dug deep for earth worms. And the squirrel stayed up in the tree and fed off nuts. Yet they were all at peace. They lived and did their thing cohabiting with each other. The squirrel never tried to fly and the crane did not try to pluck acorns out of the oak tree.

I began to wonder what the world would be like if we all lived our lives this way. How much peace would you have in your life right now if you just did what you were created to do? What if you got up on a Sunday morning and just accepted who you are and go about your day doing what feels natural to you?

I believe that is the natural order of things. How God created us. Just like my feathered friends, we have a distinctive purpose. What’s more, we instinctively know what we are supposed to do and how we are to do it. Problem is, we’re watching the squirrels eat nuts when we’re supposed to be grabbing fish from under the surface of the water on the fly.

CORCORAN1As you begin your day, I urge you to be who you are. Do what you were created to do. Don’t worry that you can’t walk underwater like the cormorant. Be the best YOU that you can be.

So what do you think your natural self looks like? Tell me about the authentic YOU. When you enter a new day, do you show up completely authentically you? Share it here!

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Today I am trilled to release my new E-Book:

The Power of ONE: How  Being Authentically YOU Will Change the World

I’m providing it for you absolutely as my treat. Click here to get your complimentary copy:


Look for the request box on the right side of the page. It looks like this:


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[Podcast] Episode 003: The World’s Greatest Gift: YOU!

Posted April 17, 2013 By Reba J. Hoffman, Ph.D.

I was excited to talk about my favorite subject today: YOU!  I trust that you will be blessed by it as well. 


Listen to Episode 003 Here

Christmas Present Wrapped in Gold and Silver 2000

Show Notes:

Podcast Episode 3: The World’s Greatest Gift: You!

Welcome to this episode of Women of Passion. I’m Reba J. Hoffman and this is THE podcast dedicated to helping women live their dreams. My goal is to give you the tools to help you safely transition from a job you hate to the career you love.

Today’s Episode is Entitled: The World’s Greatest Gift: You!

But first: Today’s Episode is being brought to you by the book:


Connections: Social Media and Networking Techniques for Writers

by Edie Melson


If you are a writer, entrepreneur or really anyone who needs to connect through Social Media, this is a must read for you. Edie gives clear, concise and easy-to-understand steps to get connected with those who love you and want to follow you.

I believe it is a must-read for entrepreneurs. That’s why you can pick up a copy of Edie’s book by going right to my website:


Today’s Topic: You!

I just love to talk about that topic because YOU really are the World’s Greatest Gift.

I know what you might be thinking: That’s NOT a good thing.

Remember when you were a kid and someone was arrogant? Do you remember how you described them? God’s gift to the human race, or some negative descripter.

But here’s the thing: You really ARE God’s Gift to the world! No foolin!

That’s not a conceded statement at all. Here’s why:

1)   You are uniquely and wonderfully created. No doubt about it.

 2)   You have a purpose on this earth that only you can fulfill. Others could do it, but not like you.

3)   If you don’t do it, there will be a void in the world.


So let’s talk about YOU! And I want to do that in terms of your dreams.

It’s true that some people have pipe dreams. For example, if I were to dream of climbing Mount Everest, that would be a pipe dream. Why? No expedition leader would take me. I’m 55 years old. I have 4 fractures in my lumbar spine and I have a shunt in my head. I’d never make it onto an expedition team.

But here’s the thing: I DON’T have that dream. Not even remotely! I LOVE to read about others who do it. I gain courage from that but I personally have no dream whatsoever to plant my photo and flag at the highest place on earth.

But I do have BIG Dreams. So do you, I’m sure.

You may not know exactly what you want to do or how you would go about doing it. But you do have dreams. What’s more, If you do not live those dreams, here’s what will happen:

  • You’ll get to the end of your life and look back with regrets.
  • The world will be a lesser place to be.
  • Someone else will have to do it and won’t be able to do it just like you.


FACT: latest polls say 9 out of 10 people in our country do NOT live their dreams in life!

So, if that’s true (and it is), then why do so many people not live their dreams?

The greatest reason for everyone who doesn’t life their dream is:


Pure and simple. They are afraid. They feel the fear and stop. They become anxious and run in the other direction.

The next greatest reason is:


No, I’m not referring to not believing they will actually stand on the finish line. Most people don’t believe in themselves. How sad that is!

No one likes a cocky person who thinks they are perfect in every way but most people I meet have gone to the opposite extreme. They have grown up not believing in themselves and their abilities.

But today, I want you to know and embrace who you are. Your uniqueness, gifts and talents.

I want you to understand how powerful you are and that you are a piece of the puzzle that will be missing from our world if you don’t plug in.

The world’s GREATEST gift—in your own unique way—is YOU.


I had several listeners submit questions for today’s topic. Here are a couple of them.

Daisy asked: how can I be the world’s greatest gift and still be humble?

Gretchen asked: I know a lot of people who think they are, you know, “all that”. How can I be truly myself and walk in the power of me without becoming one of those people I hate?

How do you feel about yourself? Do you believe you are the world’s greatest gift? Why or why not? Share it here! 












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The Entrepreneur’s Foundation: Integrity

Posted April 16, 2013 By Reba J. Hoffman, Ph.D.

Attractive Woman with Her BooksCall me crazy but I have a love affair with Amazon. I absolutely love how they remember what I’ve bought, what I’ve reported to them that I already own and then suggest other books and products that I might enjoy. Saves me a ton of time when I need to learn more.

Yesterday I was at Barnes and Noble viewing my daily Amazon recommendations (is that a conflict of interest?!) and saw a new title by one of my favorite non-fiction authors. Strange… I follow this author, own most of their books and didn’t remember hearing of this title coming out.

I clicked to the book description and it sounded oddly familiar. I clicked over to another book I own from that author and was shell shocked to discover it is the exact same book! The only thing that changed was the title! Word for word, it was the exact same book. All 304 pages of it. Even the dedication was the same! I thought it suspect since I know the person to whom the book was dedicated is not a grown man. Hmmm…

Since I was at Barnes and Noble (how convenient!), I went to the stacks and pulled both books. Sure enough, they were the exact same trust blocksbook with different titles. I was angry. Mortified. My trust was broken and I felt betrayed on many levels.

I instantly did something I’m not normally particularly inclined to do. I went right to the publisher’s website and shot off my remarks and “review” of their new book, and declaring that I would forever we wary when I see any book with their logo. How utterly sad.

As an entrepreneur, our customers have the right to expect that we will:

  1. Run our business with integrity. Once that is lost, you’re doomed. This publishing company is going down the tubes.
  2. Offer more value when we use our brilliance in different ways. Simply changing the title to our book, signature system, coaching course, etc., and wrapping it up with a different bow is just plain dishonest. Period.
  3. Be trustworthy. You’re human. You’ll make mistakes. No doubt about it. But they have to be able to trust that, even when you screw up, you’re going to own up to it.
  4. Not deceive them. If a customer doesn’t trust you, not only will they never purchase from you again, but you can bet they will communicate all that to those in their world. 

Gavel and Law BooksAs you can tell, I’m very disappointed in this publisher. The book was worthy of a new edition, no doubt. But to change the title and nothing else lit the fire the burned the bridges I had with that publisher. 

Please don’t be like that. The entrepreneur’s foundation is integrity and you simply must form that foundation and build upon it. You need it. Your customers need it. Your fellow entrepreneurs need it. 

Have you had a circumstance like this? What did you do? How did you react? Share it here.

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