Two Years Ago I Started Organizing Thirty Years of Sales Notes. Today They’re Yours.

Three days ago, I registered inversionselling.com.

And with that, thirty years of sales observations – patterns I’ve been noticing, questioning, and scribbling down since my first cold call in 1995 – finally have a home.

Two years ago, I started organizing all of it. The notes in the margins of sales books. The voice memos after weird deals. The patterns that kept showing up no matter what industry I was in. The late-night realizations that everything I’d been taught might be backwards.

None of it was meant for anyone else. It was me trying to make sense of what I’d seen. Trying to understand why the best salespeople I’d ever watched seemed to break all the rules. Processing a divorce. Finding something to hold onto when everything else was falling apart.

Today, it’s yours.

All of it. The messy early observations. The half-formed frameworks I later threw out. The breakthroughs and the dead ends. The methodology that emerged.

Why It Stayed Private

I told myself a lot of stories about why I wasn’t sharing this.

It’s not ready yet. The ideas aren’t fully formed. I need more research. I need to test it more. I need to make sure I’m not completely wrong before I put my name on it.

All of that was true. And all of it was also an excuse.

The real reason? Fear.

Fear of being wrong. Fear of being criticized. Fear of putting thirty years of experience on the line and having someone say “that’s not new” or “that doesn’t work” or “who do you think you are?”

Fear of my employer finding out I’ve been building something on the side. Fear of what it means if this works. Fear of what it means if it doesn’t.

So I kept it private. Just for me. Safe in my Google Drive where nobody could judge it.

What Changed

A few weeks ago, I shared some of the ideas with a CRO I trust. Not the whole thing – just some of the frameworks. The laws I’d been developing. The core insight that contradicted everything I’d been taught about how deals actually close.

She was quiet for a long moment. Then she said: “This is exactly what I’ve been seeing but couldn’t articulate. Why isn’t this a book?”

I told her I was working on it.

She said: “Work faster. People need this.”

That stuck with me. People need this. Not “this is interesting” or “nice work.” People need this.

Then I reached out to a mentor – a sales trainer I worked with back in 2014. Someone who’s seen every methodology come and go. I sent him the core frameworks and asked for his honest take.

He validated most of it. Questioned a few things – pushed me to tighten the logic in places I’d gotten lazy. Helped me refine some of the language around the laws. The kind of feedback that makes the work better, not just makes you feel good.

But what he said at the end stopped me cold: “You’re onto something huge. The market hasn’t seen anything this significant since Challenger came out in 2011.”

Since Challenger. That’s fourteen years.

And I realized I’d been selfish. Keeping it private wasn’t protecting the work – it was protecting me. From judgment. From failure. From the vulnerability of saying “here’s what I believe” and letting others decide if it has value.

Meanwhile, salespeople everywhere are being taught methods that don’t work anymore. Pushing harder when they should pull back. Talking more when they should listen. Creating the very resistance they’re trying to overcome.

If I have something that could help, keeping it hidden isn’t noble. It’s cowardice.

What You’ll Find Here

I’ve spent the past week migrating everything into this blog. Almost two years of notes, observations, and half-formed ideas – now organized into something resembling a coherent timeline.

It’s messy. I’m warning you now.

You’ll find early posts where I’m just noticing patterns without understanding them. Posts where I build a framework and then tear it down three weeks later. Posts written at 3 AM during the worst period of my life, where the methodology and my survival were tangled together in ways I’m only now starting to understand.

You’ll see me be wrong. Change my mind. Contradict myself. Doubt everything.

I thought about cleaning it up. Making it more polished. Editing out the uncertainty and presenting a neat, finished product.

I decided not to.

Because the mess is the point. Ideas don’t arrive fully formed. Methodologies aren’t downloaded from the sky. They’re built – slowly, painfully, with lots of wrong turns and dead ends. If I pretend this came easy, I’m lying. And I’ve seen enough polished bullshit in this industry.

So here it is. The whole ugly, honest journey. From the first confused observation to the framework as it stands today.

What Comes Next

The book is nearly done. Nine parts. Twenty-four chapters. A complete methodology built on behavioral science and thirty years of field experience.

And as it got closer to being real – like, actually real, not just notes in a folder – I realized I couldn’t keep treating this like a hobby project anymore.

If I’m going to put a methodology into the world, it needs a home. A brand. An identity. Something that says “this is serious” and not just “some guy’s blog.”

So I spent the past few weeks building all of it. The domain. The website. The visual identity. Figuring out how to take two years of scattered Google Docs and turn them into something that looks like it belongs in the world.

It’s strange, making something real. For so long this existed only in my head and my hard drive. Now it has a logo. A color palette. A homepage. It feels like watching your kid put on a suit for a job interview – suddenly it’s not just yours anymore. It’s going out into the world to be judged on its own merits.

I’m calling it Inversion Selling. Because everything about it inverts what traditional sales training teaches.

I’m calling it Inversion Selling. Because when I finally mapped what the best sellers were actually doing – not what they said they were doing – it inverted almost every principle I’d learned in thirty years.

2026 is the year I put it all out there. The book. The frameworks. Training programs. Everything I’ve been building in the dark.

I’m terrified.

I’m also done hiding.

A Request

If you’ve made it this far, thank you. Genuinely.

If you read through the older posts and something resonates – or something doesn’t – I want to hear it. This methodology is battle-tested but not finished. It’s alive. It’s still evolving. And the more perspectives I get, the better it becomes.

I’ve been writing in isolation for two years. It’s time to find out if this thing can survive contact with the real world.

Here goes nothing.

Or maybe, here goes everything.