 71. The professional helps others. When I first finished the manuscript for Gates of Fire, it was 800 pages long. My agent, Sterling Lord, though he loved it, said he couldn't submit it to publishers unless I cut at least 300 pages. That was like telling me to amputate not one limb, but two. I was devastated. One of the people Sterling had shown the manuscript to was Tom Ginsburg, who had been head of Viking press for years. It was a hell of a thing for someone of Tom Statue simply to glance at an unknown writer's work. But Tom did more. He sent me a note. I still have it. The central sentence said, There's something great in here, Steve. I have confidence that you will find it and bring it out. I barely knew Tom and he barely knew me. But if you saw the thumbprints I put on that note from the dozens of times I picked it up and hung on to its words for inspiration, you would think we were the best of buds from way back. The amateur hordes his knowledge and his reinforcement. He believes if he shares what he possesses with others, he will lose it. The professional is happy to teach. He will gladly lend a hand or deliver a swift kick. But there's a caveat. The professional refuses to be iconized. Not for selfish reasons, but because he knows how destructive the dynamic of iconization is to the iconizer. The pro will share his wisdom with other professionals or with amateurs who are committed to becoming professionals. Like art in Roseanne Cash's dream, he will not waste his time on dilatants.