Everyone wants to know the secret to my success. The truth is, there are no shortcuts. You have to work hard, stay persistent, and trust that one day your efforts will pay off. Or, as in my case, that you’ll win a multimillion-dollar payout from the circus after getting hit in the face by a flying acrobat. Here are my seven simple and easy-to-follow steps to amassing a fortune.
1. Set clear goals.
Before embarking on any business venture, it’s important that you establish clear and tangible objectives for yourself. At the same time, you need to be open to adapting your goals to respond to any new developments that might arise. For example, I originally planned to make my money in cryptocurrency, and then pivot to agentic A.I. But I refocussed all my efforts on personal-injury law after I was smacked square in the face by the youngest member of the Flying Florescus, a family of Romanian acrobats who happened to be performing with the circus in my city.
2. See setbacks as opportunities for growth.
Most people would have given up after suffering severe facial and spinal fractures, but not me. My first thought upon regaining consciousness in the ambulance was How can I turn this setback into monetary gain? You’re bound to encounter struggles while climbing the economic ladder, but don’t let that hold you back, just like I didn’t let being trapped in a full-body cast for six months stop me from pursuing a seven-figure settlement from Mendelsohn’s Travelling Circus.
3. Never stop learning.
Knowledge is the key to success, so always be a student of life. I, for one, spent countless hours in the hospital library becoming well versed in the (surprisingly complex) nuances of Circus Law, ultimately discovering that assumption of risk does not apply when a spectator is injured due to reckless and/or intentionally dangerous actions, and this is exactly what I argued in court. The patriarch of the Flying Florescus claimed that it was an accident, but everyone in attendance saw him lock eyes with me before flinging his daughter straight into my face from fifty feet in the air. All because I refused to clap during their (mediocre) trapeze routine.
