Open Call for Book Contributions (Financial Writers)

Dear Readers,

As Volatility Illuminated hits shelves in August… I suddenly had the epiphany that…well… I've published seven (7) books, before the ripe old age of 35. It feels weird… As I thought about my publishing career, I realized 'I've made it', in terms of successfully publishing multiple works.

I know the aforementioned seems a little awkward, but truth is, I've been so busy writing books over the past few years, I really haven't taken much time to breathe, step back and look at the larger picture…

Reflecting on my accomplishments, I can't help to feel one amazing emotion: gratitude.

I think of all of the wonderful and amazing people I've met along the way –who helped so much, while also feeling immensely thankful for those few opportunities that opened the first doors…

Book number one came to life because of one incredible man who helped obtain my first book deal with Wiley: Leigh Stevens. Mr. Stevens was a senior editor at a newsletter I was working at in my mid twenties, while also being both a seasoned Wall Street veteran and a published author… Leigh's help was for no reason more, other than to 'just help.'

Prior to Leigh's assistance, I had one other great moment of publishing victory, which presented an incredible amount of excitement and inspiration to keep writing…

My absolute first publishing accomplishment (believe it or not), had nothing to do with financial markets whatsoever.

In reality, my very first 'officially' published words were in the book Chicken Soup for the Teenage Soul IV, by Jack Canfield…

I responded to an ad for submissions and low and behold, made the cut. While the occurrence may not seem like a huge feat for most people; for me -back then- it was inspiration enough to kick off a long and prosperous writing career.

Now, I would like to extend the same offer to future financial writers, who've ever thought about writing, but don't know where to start...

With the aforementioned in mind, I would like to present to you: Wall Street Rock Stars - Taking It Back, a compilation of reader submitted articles covering trading strategies, experiences and education...

Read Full Details...

http://www.wallstreetrockstar.com/fx_Strategy_and_Ideas/topic/Open+Call.aspx

Oscar The Rock

Some time ago, in the woods just outside of my old house…lived the most brilliant little rock; resting on a bed of moss, in-between a stump and a tree.

I was clueless as to how the little rock could have arrived at its home; though presumably, Dr. Springborn laid him there; maybe after a half dozen martinis...

OSCAR THE ROCK

Regardless, Oscar seemed so peaceful -- simply resting in the summer sun -- in-between the tree and stub.

I had no idea where the Rock came from, how many sunny days, or dark skies of torrid storms he'd seen. Nor did I have any idea how old Oscar was, or how long he would remain on the mound of soft moss in-between the trunk and the stump.

As I gazed at the Rock's quiet existence, I suddenly realized something rather amazing…

This little rock –Oscar the Rock– reflects peace and tranquility…by doing nothing more than…just existing…

See, Oscar is not just sitting on a bed of soft summer mold, Oscar the Rock resides in-between the tree trunk of the living tree, and the other half that is now nothing more than a passing memory of a tree that once was.

I presume Oscar finds peace resting quietly on the side of yesterday… Perhaps because Oscar the Rock also knows that on his opposite shoulder, is the future, like the growing, blooming tree, with so many wonderful years still to come... But Oscar the Rock knows to sit right smack dab...in the middle…in today…in the moment.

Regardless of the past, or possibility of the future, Oscar reminds us that when we're sitting in today, we're centered and balanced. Oscar also knows that the past and the present are connected, all in the larger organic cycle of life.

Oscar reminds us that peacefulness and tranquility are truly found in quietly enjoying the journey of life, reiterating that no matter where we are... It's simply where we are at. And where we are at…is in today.

We should enjoy and make the most of every moment, just like my little friend Oscar, sitting so serenely just a stone's throw from my old back porch.

I hope to follow in Oscar the Rock's footsteps... Peaceful, strong, a foundation of building, enduring, understanding, remembering, hopeful, centered, and...without a single trace of hard edges sculpted by the demands of an industrialized world.

Round, gentle and balanced…

Humanity's Eyes

The book in Franklin's pocket was seemingly endlessly calling, and while he planned to spend more time with George Orwell later that evening - in this moment - he was happy to just be.

For the first time in a long time, Franklin was simply content just walking in the evening air...alone with his thoughts.

Franklin attempted to think of the things he'd forgotten over the years. Letting the memories slowly ebb back into his mind, he remembered a summer evening in his youth, when he'd attended the wedding of one of his closest friends. He remembered the happiness, the laughter, the dancing and the cheers as the couple departed for their honeymoon. The image tore across his consciousness, as he could almost hear the string of aluminum cans tied to the back of their car, clanging on the ground as the newlyweds sped off into the warm dark night.

That was it! He'd long since forgotten about aluminum cans! What a discovery!

In the first moment, the memory of a simple soda can seemed rather trite, however, in a world where everything is conditioned, such trivial items can be the gateway to liberation. Like a soda can, the container itself may seem worthless, however the benefit derived from the contents are truly a treasure when traversing a baron, scorching desert. Like so many, Franklin's longing to live, feel and believe in hope, humanity and empathy - his desire to dream - had long ago been appropriated by The Corporation for its own glass.

Today though, Franklin wanted it back.
He wanted to drink from the well of hope.



Franklin wanted to believe he and Sue could be able to love each other freely, without worrying other employees would call Security Services. At moments, Franklin felt panicked when considering how impossible their relationship would be.

Franklin was well aware that since the beginning of time, humanity hurt, desecrated, and/or crucified what it did not understand or comprehend. Now, with The Corporation actively encouraging uniformity (in look, thought and action), there was no room for any person, paradigm, or couple who varied from the safety and security policy-mandated homogeneous dogma.

'So sad,' Franklin thought, 'it's so sad the people (or at least what was America) allowed individual identity to be completely absolved in the name of financial security. In the end, there wasn't even financial security, there was just indentured servitude.'

Franklin suddenly had a huge epiphany, which literally halted his feet on the crowded sidewalk. A stranger - head down, devoid of thought - suddenly bumped into Franklin from behind. Turning, Franklin was met by an obviously agitated man who was clearly irate at Franklin for having stopped moving with the crowd. "Oh, I'm so sorry!"

"What's the matter with you?" Briskly stomping to the side of Franklin, the stranger pushed by in disgust. Franklin continued on as he was, though now he found himself directly behind the stranger that had instantly come to hate his guts for breaking cadence.

Returning to the important thought from a moment ago, Franklin concluded, "You know, things didn't have to end up this way. Even when things started melting down, if the media, politicians and people just worked together - remembering the core goodness of humanity - taking time to actually look into one anther's eyes - everything could have been different. Of course, that would have also required politicians dissolving irrational party lines and simply compromising." Franklin sighed as he realized the rigidity of humanity would likely never change, and thus, neither would life in The Corporation.

As the night grew dark, Franklin just kept walking, sometimes on crowded sidewalks, sometimes through an empty park, sometimes down a deserted street. He didn't worry about where he was going; he figured he'd take a hybus or skyway back to his little flat when he finally felt too tired to continue. In a way, wandering aimlessly into the evening was freedom in itself; just letting his feet carry him wherever they desired. When was the last time he'd just walked to walk? He truly couldn't remember the last time he'd just strolled, while taking in the world, without a destination in mind.

How beautiful everything was! Even the hordes of people who had now become nothing more than corporate drones were graceful in their own way. They were beautiful in their little caterpillar-pile brilliance, all of them scratching to make it to the crown, even though in reality, there was nothing at the top at all. Yet, because they'd been conditioned to think the pile was where they were supposed to be, they just mindlessly got in line.

Notwithstanding the occasional urge to scream, "WAKE UP!" at the top of his lungs, Franklin's walk in the cold winter evening was beautiful.

Franklin wished he could tell others the truth. In his daydream, Franklin imagined receptive ears, but as Franklin knew all too well, most people block out what they don't want to hear. And given that each individual was responsible for the collective ignorance that wasted liberty, the 'individual' had long since blocked out the truth. Franklin imagined himself shouting, "This is your only life! Stop sulking and start living!" In his mind, all of the people on the street would cease walking...actually turning to listen. None would immediately reach for their phone to call Security Services.

Franklin would continue, "This is your only life; you can do anything you want with it! This is our life, our world, we should be free! Life's too short to worry about money, a petty job, or fear the differences in people that we don't understand. Wake up from your slumber and breathe in today!"

A hushed murmur would come from someone in the crowd followed by a few more whispering voices. Suddenly someone would clap and someone else would cheer and then the whole street would fill with applause. The people would take their cell phones out of their pockets and throw them into the air. Handshakes and pats on the back ensued, and even 'I'm sorry I've been judgmental and mindless'. Then, the people would even turn towards Security Services- who would immediately show signs of worry.

This portion of Franklin's imagination concluded with Security Services realizing they had also been duped out of their freedom; the 'protectors' would yell, "We're here for you, from this day on, we vow to help and not hurt. We vow to never-again permit legislation, and/or policy to supersede human kindness and care. We vow to fight for freedom, not bureaucracy."

Later that evening, those same people would go home, rip their monitors off the walls and heave them out their windows, watching them shatter into chunks of worthless plastic they truly are - on the streets below. Never again, the people would swear, would they allow media to influence what they thought and felt.

Free of the monitors, the people would pledge to never again forget gratitude and the pleasure of helping one another, for the sake of helping and nothing more.

The people would read and write books, create art, play baseball in grassy fields, build something, make anything, dream up the biggest dreams they possibly could, help their neighbors, walk with a loved one - holding hands - in the sunshine, play hopscotch, or a board game...something, anything, everything - except - glue themselves to the pathetic mindlessness of the monitors that The Corporation wanted them to love more than their own independent thoughts, feelings, families, liberty and freedom.

The people would spend time with their loved ones - not simply sitting grouped together in a room silently affixed to the tube; rather, people would enjoy one another in conversation.

The masses would stop believing their financial worries, regrets, grudges, anger, sadness, and feelings of lack were more important than embracing the beautiful luminance of life, others, family, friends and lovers - today.

The people would stop believing happiness was found in a bottle, in a pill, or anything synthetic. The people would start believing happiness comes from within, not from something you can buy. The people would stop judging one another, no matter how different the other person seemed. The people simply let go of old feelings of hurt, with no concessions, stipulations, or reparations whatsoever.

That evening, the world would become a lighter, more caring place. For the first time in years, the people remembered gratitude for the gift of living they were lucky to have right now.

Franklin surmised the only real problem with his 'dream' was that the masses would never be able to lay down their arms. Society had come to a place where people found it easier to remain locked in anger, demanding everyone else change first. In the end, individuals had turned against one another, which was exactly the place The Corporation needed them to be, in order to overtake freedom and liberty.

Franklin suddenly awoke from his daydream, snapping back to the hushed movement of the mass washing down the sidewalk. 'I accept this too,' Franklin decided, 'I'm grateful for today, no matter what it holds.'