The Checklist Book. Alexandra Franzen

to me.

      “Take a photo of your checklist first thing in the morning and please email it to me,” I told everyone. “Then, at the end of the day, before bedtime, take another photo of your checklist—hopefully, all filled up with checkmarks. Send that photo to me too.”

      Soon, my inbox was filled with people’s beautiful checklists—which to me, is basically the equivalent of tantalizing X-rated pornography. I was in heaven. People emailed to report: “This is really helping me feel calmer!” “I feel organized!” “Look! I can barely believe it! I did almost everything on my list!”

      Several months after the class ended, I still got occasional emails from participants saying things like, “I’ve become obsessed with checklists” or, “This has helped so much.”

      Now, years later, after sharing my checklist methods with friends, family, clients, colleagues, students, and approximately 12,000 e-newsletter readers who follow my work online, I’m so happy to teach my methods to you.

      My intention for this book.

      I begin every creative project with an intention, much like setting an intention before meditating.

      Here is my intention for The Checklist Book.

      •Gently help you evaluate your life and make some important decisions about where your time is going.

      •Teach you my personal checklist methods, which I’ve used for years behind-the-scenes in my own life and career—and which I’ve also taught to people of all ages, from high school students to CEOs.

      •Help you set realistic goals, celebrate tiny wins, reduce stress and overwhelm, and feel calmer (and more proud of yourself) every day.

      •Ultimately, help you die peacefully and exit this world with more memories that you cherish—and fewer regrets.

      •To help you make some checklists!

      The tragic event that led to the world’s first modern checklist. How checklists have been used in different industries, including technology, hospitality, and medicine. The origin of the classic checkmark symbol.

      When I was nineteen, I dropped out of college and decided I would become a professional helicopter pilot.

      My parents, understandably, were somewhat distressed by this sudden and unexpected change of plans.

      “Really?” I recall my dad asking me. He is a kind, stoic, sensible man of few words with a strong, Swedish jawline, and the first of his bloodline to graduate from college—a privilege his immigrant parents never had. “Really?” Such bewilderment was layered into that two-syllable question.

      My parents were mystified as to why I’d walk away from a generous undergraduate scholarship. My folks were also concerned for my physical safety. They remembered, all too vividly, that it had taken me three separate attempts (yes, three) to pass my vehicle driving exam a few years earlier. (During one of my doomed attempts, I hit the curb while exiting the exam parking lot—to my immense embarrassment.)

      I imagine my parents were probably thinking, Alexandra can barely operate a Toyota Corolla on flat terrain at fifteen miles an hour. Perhaps a career in aviation is not the ideal path for our daughter… Needless to say, mom and dad were not stoked. But I was determined to proceed.

      Prior to this moment, I had always been a shy, quiet, introverted, artistic child. I had never shown any previous interest in machinery, physics, or any other aspect of aerospace technology. But during a trip to NYC—a sightseeing tour in a chopper, soaring over the Statue of Liberty in Manhattan while the city twinkled below—I was enchanted.

      “I want to learn how to fly. I want to become a pilot. This is what I want to do, forever,” I decided, with all the arrogant, iron-clad conviction of a nineteen year old who had done basically nothing in life. “This is my calling.”

      As it turns out, I did not wind up pursuing a lifelong career in aviation.

      I did, however, work my tail off to earn the money for pilot school, learn how to fly a Robinson R22 (two-bladed, single-engine light utility helicopter), complete a round trip solo flight from Long Beach Airport to Oxnard Airport, pass my check-ride exam, and successfully earn my private pilot’s license.