The Fire Starter Sessions by Danielle Laporte

Loafers.

That’s it.

If you were to buy this book for only one reason, it would be for the sheer pleasure and hilarity of reading the loafer story. It’s simple and short (1-2 paragraphs) but it’s perfectly told. In essence, they are the symbolic punchline to a very inspiring mini-memoir. Even now, after I’ve finished this book and reread chapters (over and over again, as a matter of fact), it’s the darn loafer story that sticks with me, and keeps me honest. The underlying message of it all, I suppose, are the emotional repercussions of dismissing our feelings; dealing with the fallout, as professionals and human beings, when we realize that we’ve drunk the Kool-Aid and really don’t like the taste, is a big undertaking. And, more importantly, knowing that no amount of “maybes” and “what ifs” will change that fact, is a hard truth to swallow.

The Fire Starter Sessions is a different kind of book. Part self-help, part evangelical, part business, with a dollop of marketing. It reflects an interesting combination of creativity and practicality. Is that an oxymoron? Possibly. But, as Laporte explains so eloquently, contradictions are natural and should be embraced. Even the design and layout manages to illustrate Laporte’s philosophy, filling pages with giant lettering, so there’s absolutely no chance of skimming. You will digest every bit of this book with focus and precision, verve and soul. Laporte’s language is especially captivating, because she throws around slang and colloquialisms like an ace greaser. You practically expect her to whip out a comb and slick her hair back after each zinger.

Read this book if…

• you’re lost, in any capacity.
• you don’t know what to do with your life.
• you’re unhappy, and don’t know why.
• you need guidance and direction.
• you need a creativity bitch slap.
• you like tough love.
• you are seeking purpose and meaning.
• you dig personal and professional development.
• you think self-help is a lark.
• you’re a hippy at heart, and cubicles give you a nosebleed.
• you’re a traditionalist, and cubicles are your saving grace.
• you enjoy noise.
• you adore quiet.
• you want answers.
• you hate loafers.

Heck, read this even if you love loafers!! You’ll be glad you did.