{"product_id":"the-third-door-isbn-9780804136662","title":"The Third Door","description":"\u003cb\u003e#1 INTERNATIONAL BESTSELLER • The larger-than-life journey of an 18-year-old college freshman who set out from his dorm room to track down Bill Gates, Lady Gaga, and dozens more of the world’s most successful people to uncover how they broke through and launched their careers.\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“If you care about your success, you have to read \u003ci\u003eThe Third Door.\u003c\/i\u003e”—Tony Robbins, entrepreneur, bestselling author, philanthropist, and the nation’s #1 life and business strategist\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eThe Third Door\u003c\/i\u003e takes readers on an unprecedented adventure—from hacking Warren Buffett’s shareholders meeting to chasing Larry King through a grocery store to celebrating in a nightclub with Lady Gaga—as Alex Banayan travels from icon to icon, decoding their success. After remarkable one-on-one interviews with Bill Gates, Maya Angelou, Steve Wozniak, Jane Goodall, Larry King, Jessica Alba, Pitbull, Tim Ferriss, Quincy Jones, and many more, Alex discovered the one key they have in common: they all took the Third Door.\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003eLife, business, success… it’s just like a nightclub. There are always three ways in. There’s the First Door: the main entrance, where ninety-nine percent of people wait in line, hoping to get in. The Second Door: the VIP entrance, where the billionaires and celebrities slip through. But what no one tells you is that there is always, always… the Third Door. It’s the entrance where you have to jump out of line, run down the alley, bang on the door a hundred times, climb over the dumpster, crack open the window, sneak through the kitchen—there’s always a way in. Whether it’s how Bill Gates sold his first piece of software or how Steven Spielberg became the youngest studio director in Hollywood history, they all took the Third Door.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIf you dream of learning under the wings of world-class mentors, achieving your biggest goals, or just transforming yourself into the person you always imagined you could be, \u003ci\u003eThe Third Door \u003c\/i\u003egives you the tools you need—so you can get what you want.“Exhilarating and empowering . . . If you care about your success, you have to read \u003ci\u003eThe Third Door\u003c\/i\u003e.”\u003cb\u003e—Tony Robbins, entrepreneur\u003ci\u003e, New York Times\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling author, philanthropist, and the nation’s #1 life and business strategist\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“From redefining success with Steve Wozniak to staring death in the eyes with Jessica Alba, this book is packed with adventure, drama, and remarkable lessons the whole way through. Whether you‘re an executive or a recent college graduate, you’ll find inspiration and wisdom in \u003ci\u003eThe Third Door\u003c\/i\u003e.”\u003cb\u003e—Arianna Huffington, founder of The Huffington Post and \u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling author of \u003ci\u003eThrive\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e \u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"\u003ci\u003eThe Third Door\u003c\/i\u003e is at once a spirited coming-of-age story and a hard-headed examination of what it takes to succeed at the highest levels. Alex Banayan has cracked the code of the world’s most successful people and shown he will soon join their ranks.”\u003cb\u003e—Daniel H. Pink, \u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling author of \u003ci\u003eWhen, Drive, \u003c\/i\u003eand \u003ci\u003eA Whole New Mind\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e \u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “An emotional roller coaster . . . I laughed. I cried. I was on the edge of my seat the whole time . . . Once every few decades a book comes along that defines a generation. \u003ci\u003eThe Third Door\u003c\/i\u003e is it.”\u003cb\u003e—Eliana Murillo, head of multicultural marketing at Google\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e \u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“A treasure chest of wisdom . . . knowledge that can be used by anyone, anywhere, who wants to take their journey further . . . Banayan has become one of the most equipped guides to help you climb higher mountains in your life.”\u003cb\u003e—Shawn Achor, \u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling author of \u003ci\u003eThe Happiness Advantage\u003c\/i\u003e and \u003ci\u003eBig Potential\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e\u003ci\u003e \u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Unlike any business book I've read. \u003ci\u003eThe Third Door\u003c\/i\u003e is a thrill ride of hope, joy, ambition, and self-discovery. I cheered out loud, and at different points, tears trickled down my face . . . \u003ci\u003eThe Third Door\u003c\/i\u003e motivated me turn up the volume in my life . . . A triumph.”\u003cb\u003e—Maya Watson Banks, director of marketing at Netflix\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e \u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“A cinematic story full of drama, betrayal, and heartbreak. \u003ci\u003eThe Third Door\u003c\/i\u003e takes you on a narrative adventure packed with life-changing lessons. Once you start reading, you can’t stop.”\u003cb\u003e—Jonah Berger, \u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling author of \u003ci\u003eContagious: Why Things Catch On\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Powerful . . . One of the best books of the year . . . After reading \u003ci\u003eThe Third Door\u003c\/i\u003e, an uncontrollable shift happened in my life—I started to see the challenges in front of me as \u003ci\u003efun\u003c\/i\u003e. This book not only gave me new tools to achieve my goals, but it also showed me how exciting it can be to tackle seemingly impossible obstacles. If you want to take your life to the next level, you have to read \u003ci\u003eThe Third Door\u003c\/i\u003e.”\u003cb\u003e—Mike Posner, Grammy Award-nominated and multiplatinum musician\u003c\/b\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Banayan’s heart is poured into every page of this book. \u003ci\u003eThe Third Door\u003c\/i\u003e is not only a guide to how the world’s most remarkable pioneers succeeded, but it’s also a magnificent story of one boy’s journey to achieve his dream.\u003ci\u003e The Third Door\u003c\/i\u003e drips with passion and emotion—and it’s a must-read for anyone wanting to turn their vision into a reality.”\u003cb\u003e—Adam Braun, \u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling author of \u003ci\u003eThe Promise of a Pencil\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e\u003ci\u003e \u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “A wild ride . . . Inspiring, hilarious, and insightful. Whenever you start to believe there’s no other way to solve your problem, let Alex Banayan inspire you to think bigger.”\u003cb\u003e—David Eagleman, \u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling author of \u003ci\u003eIncognito\u003c\/i\u003e, host of PBS’ \u003ci\u003eThe Brain\u003c\/i\u003e, and adjunct professor at Stanford University\u003c\/b\u003eThe day before his freshman year final exams, \u003cb\u003eAlex Banayan\u003c\/b\u003e hacked \u003ci\u003eThe Price Is Right\u003c\/i\u003e, won a sailboat, sold it, and used the prize money to fund his quest to learn from the world’s most successful people. Since then, Banayan has been named to \u003ci\u003eForbes’ \u003c\/i\u003e“30 Under 30” list and \u003ci\u003eBusiness Insider’s “\u003c\/i\u003eMost Powerful People Under 30.” He has contributed to \u003ci\u003eFastCompany\u003c\/i\u003e, \u003ci\u003eThe Washington Post\u003c\/i\u003e, \u003ci\u003eEntrepreneur\u003c\/i\u003e, and \u003ci\u003eTechCrunch\u003c\/i\u003e, and has been featured in major media including \u003ci\u003eFortune, Forbes, Businessweek\u003c\/i\u003e, Bloomberg TV, Fox News, and CBS News. An acclaimed keynote speaker, Banayan has presented the Third Door framework to business conferences and corporate leadership teams around the world, garnering standing ovations from Apple, Nike, IBM, Dell, MTV, Harvard, and countless others.\u003cp\u003eChapter One\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eStaring at the Ceiling\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eRight this way . . .”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI stepped across the marble floor and turned a corner, entering a room with glistening floor-to-ceiling windows. Sailboats drifted down below, gentle waves lapped onto the shore, and the afternoon sun bounced off a marina and filled the lobby with a bright, heavenly glow. I followed an assistant down a hallway. The office had couches with the most plush cushions I’d ever seen. The coffee spoons sparkled in a way I’d never seen spoons sparkle before. The conference room table looked like it had been carved by Michelangelo himself. We entered a long corridor lined with hundreds of books.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“He’s read every one,” she said.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eMacroeconomics. Computer science. Artificial intelligence. Polio eradication. The assistant pulled out a book on feces recycling and placed it in my hands. I flipped through it with sweaty palms. Nearly every page was underlined and highlighted with scribbles in the margins. I couldn’t help but smile--the scribbles had the penmanship of a fifth grader.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eWe continued down the hallway until the assistant asked me to stay where I was. I stood there, motionless, looking at a towering frosted glass door. I had to stop myself from touching it to feel how thick it was. As I waited, I thought of all the things that led me here--the red scarf, the toilet in San Francisco, the shoe in Omaha, the cockroach in the Motel 6, the--\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eAnd then, the door opened.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Alex, Bill is ready for you.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eHe was standing right in front of me, hair uncombed, shirt loosely tucked in, sipping a can of Diet Coke. I waited for something to come out of my mouth, but nothing did.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Hey, there,” Bill Gates said, his smile lifting his eyebrows. “Come on in . . .”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThree Years Earlier, My Freshman Dorm Room\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI flipped over in bed. A stack of biology books sat on my desk, staring back at me. I knew I should study, but the more I looked at the books, the more I wanted to pull the covers over my head.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI tossed to my right. A University of Southern California football poster hung above me. When I’d first taped it on my wall, the colors were so vibrant. Now the poster seemed to blend in with the wall.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI turned onto my back and stared at the silent white ceiling.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eWhat the hell is wrong with me?\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eEver since I could remember, the plan was for me to be a doctor. That’s what happens when you’re the son of Persian Jewish immigrants. I practically came out of the womb with “MD” stamped on my behind. In third grade, I wore scrubs to school for Halloween. I was “that kid.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI was never the smartest kid in school, but I was consistent. Like, I consistently got B minuses and consistently read CliffsNotes. To make up for my lack of straight As, I always had a sense of direction. In high school I “checked the boxes”--volunteer at a hospital, take extra science classes, obsess over the SATs. But I was too busy trying to survive to stop and wonder whose boxes I was checking. When I’d started college, I couldn’t have imagined that a month later I would be hitting the snooze button four or five times each morning, not because I was tired, but because I was bored. Yet I continued dragging myself to class anyway, checking the premed boxes, feeling like a sheep following the herd.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThat’s how I found myself here: lying on my bed, staring up at the ceiling. I’d come to college looking for answers, but all I got were more questions. What am I actually interested in? What do I want to major in? What do I want to do with my life?\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI flipped over again. The biology books were like dementors, sucking the life out of me. The more I dreaded opening them, the more I thought about my parents--running through the Tehran airport, fleeing to America as refugees, sacrificing everything to give me an education.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eWhen I received my admissions letter from USC, my mom told me I couldn’t attend because we couldn’t afford it. Although my family wasn’t poor and I grew up in Beverly Hills, like many families, we lived a double life. While we lived in a nice neighborhood, my parents had to take out a second mortgage to cover the bills. We went on vacations, yet there were times when I’d see notices on our front door saying our gas was going to be cut off. The only reason my mom allowed me to attend USC was because the day before the enrollment deadline, my dad stayed up all night, talking to my mom with tears in his eyes, saying he’d do whatever it took to make ends meet.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eAnd this is how I paid him back? By lying in bed, pulling the covers over my head?\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI glanced at the other side of the room. My roommate, Ricky, was at a small wooden desk doing his homework, spitting out numbers like an accounting machine. The squeak of his pencil mocked me. He had a path. I wish I had that. All I had was a ceiling that wouldn’t talk back to me.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThen I thought about the guy I’d met the prior weekend. He’d graduated from USC a year earlier with a math degree. He used to sit at a desk just like Ricky’s, spitting out numbers just like him, and now he was scooping ice cream a few miles from campus. I was beginning to realize that a college degree no longer came with guarantees.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI turned over to the textbooks. Studying is the last thing I want to do.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI rolled onto my back. But my parents sacrificed everything so that studying would be the only thing I have to do.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThe ceiling remained silent.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI flipped over and planted my face in my pillow.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI trudged to the library the following morning, my biology books under my arm. But as much as I tried to study, my internal battery remained depleted. I needed a jump start, something to inspire me. So I pushed my chair back from the study tables, wandered to the aisles of the biography section, and pulled out a book on Bill Gates. I figured reading about someone as successful as Gates might spark something within me. And it did--just not what I’d expected.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eHere was a guy who started his company when he was my age, grew it into the most valuable corporation in the world, revolutionized an industry, became the richest man alive, and then stepped down as the CEO of Microsoft to become the most generous philanthropist on earth. Thinking about what Bill Gates accomplished felt like standing at the base of Mount Everest and staring up at the peak. All I could wonder was: How did he take his first steps up the mountain?\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eBefore I knew it I was flipping through the biographies of one successful person after another. Steven Spielberg climbed the Mount Everest of directing, so how did he do it? How did a kid who’d been rejected from film school become the youngest major studio director in Hollywood history? How did Lady Gaga, when she was nineteen years old and waiting tables in New York City, get her first record deal?\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI kept returning to the library, searching for a book that held the answers. But after a few weeks, I was left empty-handed. There wasn’t a single book that focused on the stage of life I was in. When no one knew their names, when no one would take their meetings, how did these people find a way to launch their careers? That’s when my naive eighteen-year-old thinking kicked in: Well, if no one has written the book I’m dreaming of reading, why not just write it myself?\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eIt was a dumb idea. I couldn’t even write a term paper without half the page coming back covered in red ink. I decided not to do it.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eBut as the days pressed on, the idea wouldn’t let me go. What interested me wasn’t writing a book so much as embarking on “a mission”--a journey to uncover these answers. I figured if I could just talk to Bill Gates myself, he had to have the Holy Grail of advice.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI ran the idea by my friends and found out I wasn’t the only one staring at the ceiling. They were dying for answers too. What if I go on this mission on behalf of all of us? Why not just call up Bill Gates, interview him, track down some other icons, put what I discover in a book, and share it with my generation?\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThe hard part, I figured, would be paying for it. Traveling to interview all these people would cost money, money I didn’t have. I was buried in tuition payments and all out of Bar Mitzvah cash. There had to be another way.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eTwo nights before fall semester final exams, I was back in the library when I took a break to scroll through Facebook. That’s when I saw a friend’s post about free tickets to The Price Is Right. The game show was filmed a few miles from campus. It’s one of those shows I watched as a kid when I stayed home sick from school. Audience members would get called down to become contestants, they’d be shown a prize, and if they guessed closest to the actual price without going over, they’d win. I’d never seen a full episode before, but how hard could it be?\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eWhat if . . . what if I go on the show to win some money to fund the mission?\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eIt was absurd. The show was taping the next morning. I had to study for finals. But the thought kept crawling back into my mind. To prove to myself it was a horrible idea, I opened my notebook and wrote a list of the best- and worst-case scenarios.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eWorst-Case Scenarios\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e1. Fail my finals\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e2. Ruin my chances of going to med school\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e3. Mom will hate me\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e4. No . . . Mom will kill me\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e5. Look fat on TV\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e6. Everyone will make fun of me\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e7. Not even make it onto the show\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eBest-Case Scenario\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e1. Win enough money to fund the mission\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI searched online to calculate the odds of winning. Out of three hundred people in the audience, one wins. I used my cellphone to do the math: a 0.3 percent chance.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eSee, this is why I didn’t like math.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI looked at the 0.3 percent on my phone, then at the stack of biology books on my desk. But all I could think was, What if . . . ? It felt as if someone had tied a rope around my gut and was slowly pulling.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI decided to do the logical thing and study.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eBut I didn’t study for finals. I studied how to hack The Price Is Right.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eChapter Two\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThe Price Is Right\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eAnyone who’s watched The Price Is Right for even thirty seconds and has heard the announcer say “COME ON DOWN!” knows the contestants are colorfully dressed and have wild personalities that fill the television screen. The show makes it seem like the contestants are randomly selected from the audience--but at around 4:00 a.m., as I’d Googled “how to get on The Price Is Right,” I discovered it was far from random. A producer interviews each audience member and picks the wildest ones. If the producer likes you, he puts your name on a list that’s given to an undercover producer who observes you from afar. If the undercover producer puts a check mark by your name, you’re called on stage. It wasn’t luck: there was a system.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThe next morning, I swung open my closet and threw on my brightest red shirt, a big puffy jacket, and neon-yellow sunglasses. I pretty much looked like a chubby toucan. Perfect. After driving to the CBS studio, I pulled into the parking lot and approached the check‑in table. Because I couldn’t tell who the undercover producer was, I assumed it could be anyone. I hugged security guards, danced with janitors, flirted with old ladies--I break-danced, and I don’t know how to break-dance.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI got in line with the other audience members in a maze of railings outside the studio doors. The line moved forward, until finally, it was almost my turn to be interviewed. There’s my guy. I’d spent hours researching him the night before. His name was Stan and he was the producer in charge of casting contestants. I knew where he was from, where he went to school--and that he relied on a clipboard, but it was never in his hands. His assistant, who sat in a chair behind him, held it. When Stan selected a contestant, he would turn to her, wink, and she’d write the name down.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eAn usher motioned for ten of us to step forward. Stan stood ten feet away, walking from one person to the next. “What’s your name? Where are you from? What do you do?” There was a rhythm to his moves. Officially, Stan was a producer; but in my eyes, he was the bouncer. If I didn’t get my name on his clipboard, I wouldn’t get on the show. And now the bouncer was right in front of me.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Hey, my name’s Alex, I’m from LA and I’m a premed at USC!”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Premed? You’re probably always studying. How do you have time to watch The Price Is Right?”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“The . . . what? Oh! Is that where I am?”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eHe didn’t even give a pity laugh.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI needed to redeem myself. In one of the business books I’d read, the author said that physical contact speeds up a relationship. I had an idea.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI had to touch Stan.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Stan, Stan, come over here! I want to make a secret handshake with you!”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eHe rolled his eyes.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Stan! Come on!”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eHe stepped forward and we slapped hands. “Dude, you’re doing it all wrong,” I said. “How old are you?”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eStan chuckled and I showed him how to pound it and blow it up. He laughed some more, wished me luck, and walked away. He didn’t wink to his assistant. She didn’t write anything on the clipboard. Just like that, it was over.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThis was one of those moments when you see your dream in front of you, you can almost touch it, and then just like that, it’s gone, slipping through your fingers like sand. And the worst part is you know you could’ve seized it if you just had another chance. I don’t know what got into me, but I started shouting, at the top of my lungs.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“STAN! STAAAAN!”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThe entire audience whipped their heads around.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“STAAAAAAAAAN! Come back!”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eStan ran over and nodded slowly, giving me that “all right, kid, what now?” look.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Uh . . . uh . . .”\u003c\/p\u003e","brand":"Crown Currency","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":46299862728933,"sku":"NP9780804136662","price":32.0,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9780804136662.jpg?v=1767741832","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/products\/the-third-door-isbn-9780804136662","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}