Two rounds of book cover designs. Something wasn’t clicking.
I kept pushing forward anyway. The designer was talented. The concepts were solid. But every time I looked at the drafts for “Lucky by Design,” I felt… nothing.
The covers were flat. The kind that end up in the bargain bin, spine-out, waiting for someone to take pity on them. I couldn’t see myself holding one up. I couldn’t picture it on a nightstand or passed between friends.
But I didn’t have a better answer. So I kept going.
Then Kit texted me, fresh off her honeymoon:
“I feel like the badassness of your branding is not hitting with the design yet. This might be a brain break, but throwing it out there: what about Quantum Surfing as the title? That phrase is just so 🔥🔥🔥🔥 in my mind.”
I stared at my phone.
Quantum Surfing. The phrase I’d been using for years. My workshops. My hashtags. My entire methodology.
Hiding in plain sight.
Then Mary added the test that sealed it:
“Imagine someone asks what’s different about you. You’d say ‘I’ve started quantum surfing’ or ‘I learned to surf the sea of infinite potential.’ That flows. But ‘I started being lucky by design’? The conversation doesn’t land the same way.”
She would know. Colleagues have been asking Mary how she’s getting such incredible sales results lately. “Quantum Surfing” has become her shorthand. Two words. Instant curiosity. That’s the power of a title that works in real conversations—not just on a cover.
Why I Almost Didn’t
Here’s the part I haven’t told anyone yet.
A few years ago, a friend I respect enormously, someone who’s built an impressive career in the most credentialed corporate circles, challenged me on Quantum Surfing. Too woo, he said. It would undermine my credibility, and make people dismiss my work.
I heard him. And for a while, I softened how I talked about it.
But he wasn’t a detractor. He was an accelerator. His skepticism planted a seed that catalyzed the version of me who could stand by this phrase without apology. Who could articulate it with enough precision that the “woo” concern dissolves.
What felt like shade was actually light—pointing exactly where I needed to grow.
Because here’s what I’ve realized: we are living in a rapidly changing world that continues to accelerate. The old operating systems aren’t working. People are exhausted, overwhelmed, and hungry for something new.
Not another productivity hack. Not another optimization framework.
A new paradigm. Joyful. Abundant. A way of navigating reality that actually feels good.
Quantum Surfing offers that.
And maybe the people who dismiss it aren’t my people. Maybe the phrase is a filter—one that attracts exactly who it’s meant to attract.
Trusting the Timing
Here’s what I realized after Kit and Mary gave me permission to pivot:
I hadn’t registered “Lucky by Design” as the final title because it didn’t feel like the right timing yet. And now I know why.
The real title was still arriving.
I wasn’t ignoring my intuition. I was letting the story unfold.
That’s Quantum Surfing in action—trusting what you feel before you can explain it.
The designer, by the way, has been a total pro. Speedy turnaround, zero drama. Sometimes the people around you make pivots painless.
And “Lucky by Design”? I have a fondness for that title—like a friend who helped me get here. It’ll likely become the name of Part 2 in the book, replacing “How to Be Lucky.” A quiet nod to the journey.
The Lesson
Sometimes the people who love your work see its potential more clearly than you do.
They’re not too close. They’re not in the weeds. They just see what’s actually there.
Kit saw the fire in a phrase I’d been underselling. Mary pressure-tested it in real conversations. And I finally stopped letting an old critique hold me back.
So yes—I’m changing the book title. Two rounds of design work, pivoting mid-stream.
It’s not a hiccup. It’s a silver lining.
And the book will be better because my beta readers refused to let me settle.