A few weeks ago, I downloaded a new audiobook on a whim. I had an Audible credit burning a hole in my pocket, so I took a swing on a book I knew almost nothing about.

The book is called Theo of Golden, and it’s a novel about an old man who ends up transforming a small town through acts of generosity and connection.

It was a fantastic book, and I highly recommend it. But that’s not why I’m writing about it.

At the end of the audiobook there was a bonus clip from the author talking about how the novel came to be.

The author, Allen Levi, said that he never intended for the book to be published. He simply wanted to see if he had “the discipline and stamina to write a long piece of fiction.” It was something he’d wanted to try for years, but had never had the time for.

He began writing, but found the process to be much more difficult than he’d anticipated. He said that on dozens of occasions he gave up, put down his pen, hung his head in shame, and admitted defeat.

But something about the story kept drawing him back, and eventually he crossed the finish line.

When he did, he set the manuscript aside and told himself that someday he might write “a real novel”. But some friends read the story and insisted he do something with it.

Fast forward, and the book has sold over 2.5 million copies. And that was before he did an interview with Oprah.

All of that is incredible, but it’s not why I’m writing about this book either.

I’m writing about it because Allen Levi wrote this book (his first novel) well into his sixties.

Prior to writing Theo of Golden, Levi was an attorney for ten years. Then he left his law practice, moved to Edinburgh, and got a degree in Scottish fiction. He moved back, practiced law for a few more years, then decided to become a traveling musician. He published a memoir. He wrote a children’s book. And then, just for fun, he decided to write a novel.

I love this story, because it pushes back against one of my deepest fears: the idea that time is running out.

Years ago, one of my closest friends told me “You know what’s funny about you, Kyle? If I were to chart your life on a graph, it just goes up and to the right. Every year is better than the last… but every time I talk to you, you’re convinced that it’s all about to fall apart.”

I had to laugh, because he was right. For years, there’s been a voice in the back of my mind that says “Enjoy this, buddy, because tomorrow it’s all over.”

I’m not alone, either. As I’ve opened up to my friends about this, many have admitted that they feel the same way. These are successful people with incredible track records, but they all feel like their time is running out.

If I feel it, and my friends feel it, then I have a sneaking suspicion that you might feel it too.

If you do, let me give you some encouragement: your best days may still be ahead of you.

Samuel L. Jackson didn’t have his breakout role in Pulp Fiction until he was 46.
Charles Darwin published On the Origin of Species at 50.
Ray Kroc was 52 when he started franchising McDonald’s.
And Allen Levi published his first novel in his sixties.

There’s still time.

This week I got offstage after an event, and a woman said “I loved hearing your story about publishing your children’s books. I wrote a children’s book, but I never published it.”

I raised my eyebrows.

“I think you mean you haven’t published it yet.”

Happy Friday, friends. Make it a good one.

Kyle Scheele
Helping Individuals and Organizations Launch Better Ideas, Faster
​www.KyleScheele.com​