You Are Capable of More offers practical strategies for overcoming self-doubt, taking ownership of your choices, building discipline, and turning everyday actions into meaningful personal and professional growth. What are some common ways self-doubt prevents people from pursuing meaningful goals?
I open the book with a story I had not told many people. When I was in college, the show Jackass was on, and my friends and I carried a shopping cart to the top of a dirt hill near campus, thinking we could ride it down like a sled. It didn’t work, and we spent the night crashing into the dirt and climbing back up to try again, until police lights showed up at the bottom of the hill. What we thought was a harmless prank ended with me in handcuffs, charged with theft by unlawful taking. The charge appeared in the local newspaper, and I felt like people saw the arrest before they saw me. I worried about future job applications and interviews, and whether that one night would become something I would always have to explain.
That is how self-doubt often works. We let past mistakes become predictions about our future, and we take something that went wrong and turn it into a belief about who we are. It also sounds reasonable, telling us we need more experience, more time, or a better moment to begin. In a survey for my book, 92% of people said they were capable of more than they were currently doing, and 85% said they second-guess themselves because of their own internal voice. One of the ideas I share in the book is that self-doubt can have a voice without getting a vote. You can hear those concerns, consider what you need to learn, and still move forward.
What advice would you offer readers who recognize the need for change but struggle to take the first step?
Make the first step small enough that you can take it today. We tend to picture everything a change will require, and that can make us feel defeated before we begin. If you want to change careers, start by updating your résumé or reaching out to one person. If you want to improve a relationship, put your phone away and give that person your attention. Choose something specific that moves you toward what matters.
I’ve put things off because I thought I needed to feel more confident first. What I’ve learned is that confidence often comes from taking action and keeping promises to yourself. Make a commitment you can keep, then build on it. When you slip, be honest about what happened and start again. Missing one day does not have to become a reason to give up.
How do you recommend readers use the book to develop a realistic personal improvement plan?
I wanted readers to have something they could keep coming back to. Each chapter offers practical steps, and the Playbook at the end brings the ideas together through reflection questions, decisions, and actions. My suggestion is to read one chapter at a time, answer the questions honestly, and choose one action to practice before adding more.
Then give that action a place in your daily life. “I want to be a better listener” is a good intention, but “I will ask a question and listen without interrupting during my next team meeting” gives you something to practice. At the end of the week, look at what worked, where you struggled, and what you need to adjust. You can use a journal or work through the book with your team. There are also free resources at YouAreCapableOfMore.com to support that work. A realistic plan should fit your life well enough that you can keep following it when motivation wears off.
Beyond the book, what are your long-term goals for helping individuals and organizations develop stronger habits and leadership skills?
My personal mission is to help people become the best version of themselves, and that mission came long before the book. The book was one way to put it into people’s hands, but I didn’t want the help to stop at the last page or depend on whether someone could buy a copy. That is why I built YouAreCapableOfMore.com, with free assessments that help people see what is holding them back, articles that go deeper into each principle, and worksheets and resources they can use on their own or with their teams. My long-term goal is to keep growing that into a place anyone can come back to whenever they feel stuck, no matter where they are starting from.
For organizations, I love coming in to present these concepts as keynotes and workshops, because so much of a person’s growth depends on the people they work with every day. Years ago, at a company holiday party, an employee’s wife pulled me aside to thank me, not for any number her husband had hit, but because she could see he was more confident and more engaged, at work and at home. I’ve received awards and reached professional milestones, but hearing that someone’s life was better because of the investment I had made in them meant something different. That conversation helped me understand the impact I wanted to have. It is why, in the book, I ask leaders, “Who is better because you led them?” I want to help more leaders and organizations answer that with real people whose lives they have helped change.
You know you’re not operating at your full capacity. You’ve known it for a while.
Not because you’re lazy. Because somewhere along the way, the voice in your head got quieter about what was possible and louder about what wasn’t.
In a survey of more than 200 adults, 92% said they believe they’re capable of more than they’re currently living. When asked what was stopping them, the answers came back in four:
Self-doubt. The quiet belief that you’d fall short if you really tried. Being too busy. Every hour already spoken for by someone else’s priorities. Comfort. Things are fine. Not great, but fine. And fine is hard to leave. Waiting for the right time. Which has a way of never arriving. Not one of them was talent.
You Are Capable of More is about what’s actually stopping you, and what to do about it.
Chris Sund isn’t writing from theory. He’s spent two decades sitting across from people performing well below what they were capable of, and years doing it himself. What he found is that the thing standing between you and your potential is almost never ability. It’s the excuses you stopped noticing you make.
What you’ll build:
Train Your Inner Voice: change how you talk to yourself under pressure Own It, Every Day: take responsibility before anyone asks you to Growth Starts Where Comfort Stops: find the ceiling you built yourself Time Is Your Edge: stop trading your best hours for everyone else’s priorities Relentless Improvement: get better on the days you don’t feel like it This isn’t a book about becoming perfect. It’s a blueprint for becoming better, in your work, your relationships, and the way you see yourself.
Beneath the surface is more resilience than you’ve had to use, more discipline than you’ve been asked to show, and more capacity than you’ve ever tested.
Darwin the Wonder Dog Goes to School follows a young girl who brings her beloved one-eyed Jack Russell terrier to school for show-and-tell, leading to an ordinary day becoming an unforgettable adventure. Was the story inspired by a real dog or personal experiences with animals?
The story is a true story featuring our beloved one-eyed Jack Russell terrier named Darwin and my granddaughter, Abbie. Darwin gave us more than 15 yrs of joy and provided Abbie with a best friend and loyal companion. Writing about their adventures is easy because they’re true!!
What do you hope young readers learn about showing kindness to someone who looks or behaves differently from them?
I hope children learn to be kind to everyone because people (and Darwin the Wonder Dog) who are different experience the world the same way anyone else does. And, they want to do everything everyone else does. Kindness goes a long way.
Why do you think animal characters can be especially effective in helping children understand important social and emotional lessons?
Because an animal can be both completely familiar and safely not-us. That little distance is what makes the lesson land. Children know animals. They love them, they watch them, they already imagine what a dog is feeling.
Darwin gives emotional safety. If you tell a story about a child who is left out at recess, a listener might worry, is that me? Am I the mean one? If you tell it about a small dog who looks differently, the child can feel sad for the dog without feeling judged. Safety lets empathy in. Also, animals invite attachment. Most children feel affection for animals faster than they do for strangers. That affection creates investment. They want Darwin to be okay, so they lean into lessons about sharing, apologizing, waiting your turn, or being brave.
Are there plans to continue Darwin’s adventures in future books, and what other lessons would you like to explore through his character?
Yes, Darwin’s true adventures continue with Darwin the Wonder Dog Goes Camping, Darwin the Wonder Dog Goes to the Farm and Darwin the Wonder Dog Goes to the Racetrack! The sweet pup teaches bravery when you’re scared, being a loyal friend and, above all, God’s world is wonderfully made. All the Darwin books are published by Read Beleive Grow Publishing.
A Darwin Christmas story is currently in the works, and look for a Darwin Halloween story in 2027, and more.
What would your child bring to show and tell? A toy? A doll? A rock collection? Abbie brought her best friend!
In Darwin the Wonder Dog Goes to School, young readers will meet a lovable one-eyed pup who proves that being different doesn’t make you less—it makes you special. When Darwin joins Abbie for show-and-tell, what starts as an ordinary school day quickly turns into an unforgettable adventure filled with laughter, surprises, and heartwarming moments.
Through Darwin’s story, children will discover: ✨ the beauty of friendship ✨ the courage to be different ✨ the joy of kindness and compassion ✨ and a gentle reminder that God can use even the most unexpected heroes
Perfect for ages 4–8, this uplifting story is ideal for: ✔ bedtime reading ✔ classrooms and homeschool ✔ gifts for dog lovers ✔ building confidence and empathy in young hearts
Because not all heroes wear capes…some wag their tails.
Darwin the Wonder Dog Goes to School, written by Shelley Terry and Ellen Kolman, gets much of its appeal from a feeling pet owners will recognize: a dog can become part of the family almost immediately. Abbie adores Darwin, an energetic Jack Russell terrier, and her enthusiasm gives this children’s book its welcoming voice. The school visit promised by the title grows out of their close friendship, so there’s a personal reason to care about the adventure. I liked how the authors establish that bond through familiar routines and small moments of companionship. You can understand why Abbie wants everyone to meet her dog.
The writing is straightforward, with short passages and dialogue that should work comfortably when read aloud. Abbie’s excitement comes through clearly, while Grandma brings a reassuring presence to the story. Details such as Darwin waiting hopefully beneath the breakfast chair make him feel like a recognizable household pet, complete with appetites and opinions of his own. The story moves quickly, and a few emotional transitions could use more room to breathe, but its affectionate tone stays consistent. There’s also an openly Christian perspective, with prayer and trust in God woven into the family’s experience. That faith is part of how these characters understand love, care, and resilience.
Rick Tyler’s illustrations give the picture book a lively cartoon style. Bright greens, sunny yellows, and warm oranges make the home and school settings feel inviting, while bold outlines keep the characters easy to pick out. Darwin’s oversized ears, expressive face, and busy posture draw attention even when he’s sharing a page with several children. Abbie and Grandma have similarly readable expressions, which helps younger listeners follow the mood while an adult reads. The layout alternates fuller scenes with smaller drawings around the text, creating useful pauses for looking and talking. I especially liked the pictures of everyday togetherness, where the affection between girl and dog is visible without needing much explanation.
I loved Abbie’s wholehearted pride in her friend. Her affection creates a natural opening for conversations about caring for animals, appreciating differences, and recognizing how much a companion can mean to someone. The messages are stated plainly, and adults reading with children will find plenty of places to pause and invite their reactions. An epilogue and photographs also connect the fictional presentation to the real family relationship that inspired it, adding a personal touch. For families who enjoy animal stories with an explicit Christian foundation, Darwin the Wonder Dog Goes to School offers an approachable shared read with a cheerful visual personality and a believable sense of devotion.
Healthy Minds, Healthy Nation, by Gilbert Martina, is a personal, spiritual, and socially minded exploration of the idea that healthier societies begin with healthier individuals. Martina builds the book around his own experiences with grief, chronic pain, professional pressure, family trauma, and leadership in Curaçao, then connects those experiences to larger questions about consciousness, morality, and collective well-being. The book moves through four broad stages: establishing the foundations of a healthy mind, examining how trauma can affect whole societies, describing spiritual awakening, and introducing practices such as Transcendental Meditation, shamanism, and Indigenous healing. What makes the book especially personal is that Martina rarely presents these ideas from a distance. His parents, marriage, career, physical pain, and Curaçaoan heritage are woven directly into his argument, so the book reads partly as memoir, partly as a guide to spiritual development, and partly as a reflection on leadership.
One thing that was most interesting to me was the way Martina moves between individual trauma and national history. His discussion of Curaçao gives the book a strong sense of place, particularly when he considers slavery, colonialism, discrimination, political power, and the long psychological effects of historical wounds. He argues that unresolved trauma can shape not only individual behavior but also relationships, institutions, leadership, and entire communities. That argument becomes more compelling when Martina connects it to his own life, including his mother’s fight against discrimination, his professional battles over integrity, and his struggle to separate what he calls the ego from the true self. The Papiamentu sayings passed down by his mother are especially memorable because they turn abstract ideas such as honesty, discipline, humility, resilience, and responsibility into something lived and specific.
The book becomes more explicitly spiritual as it progresses, especially in its treatment of meditation, energy healing, shamanic practice, chakras, ancestral trauma, vision quests, and ayahuasca. Martina treats neuroscience, psychosomatic medicine, spiritual experience, and Indigenous healing as parts of a connected picture of human health. That gives the book a distinctive confidence and makes his worldview easy to understand, even when some of the scientific and spiritual claims are presented with different kinds of supporting evidence. His strongest material tends to come when he describes what these practices have meant in his own life. Still, the central thread remains clear: healing requires attention to mind, body, relationships, history, and spirit, and personal transformation matters because it changes the way a person acts in the world. By the final chapter, Martina turns that idea toward moral courage, arguing that an awakened person should be willing to speak up against injustice and choose principle over fear, status, or money.
I recommend Healthy Minds, Healthy Nation to readers who are interested in spirituality, meditation, holistic approaches to healing, personal transformation, and values-based leadership. It will also have particular appeal for readers interested in Curaçao and the Caribbean, especially those thinking about how colonial history and inherited trauma continue to shape modern communities. Martina writes with the conviction of someone trying to make sense of his own life while also offering that meaning to others, and the book’s warmth comes from that personal investment. By the conclusion, his message has become both intimate and ambitious: quiet the mind, care for the body and soul, loosen the hold of ego, heal what has been carried from the past, and let that inner work influence families, communities, and nations. Readers who enjoy books that bring memoir, spirituality, leadership, cultural history, and self-development into the same conversation are likely to appreciate it most.
Kristina Gibbons’s From Battlefield to Breakthrough is an expansive Christian workbook centered on spiritual formation, mental renewal, and the believer’s identity in Christ. Gibbons presents spiritual warfare as a daily discipline shaped by Scripture, prayer, repentance, discernment, and obedience. The book moves from recognizing destructive thought patterns to developing practical habits involving prayer, the Armor of God, fasting, rest, and remembrance. Its progression gives the reader a clear sense of movement from self-examination toward a more confident and sustained practice of faith.
The workbook’s most effective feature is its integration of teaching with structured participation. Gibbons regularly follows biblical instruction and personal testimony with written questions, prayer prompts, declarations, habit-building exercises, and multistep sections called “Rounds.” Readers are asked to identify recurring lies, trace their origins, find relevant Scripture, and translate what they’ve learned into specific actions. Her statement that “You do not earn identity. You stand in it” captures the book’s central conviction that spiritual authority begins with receiving one’s position in Christ.
Gibbons writes with urgency, warmth, and pastoral directness. Her battlefield, courtroom, armor, and property metaphors give abstract theological ideas a concrete vocabulary that readers can apply to their inner lives. Repetition is an essential part of this method because the workbook treats transformation as the result of consistent practice. Its discussions of neuroplasticity support this emphasis by connecting repeated patterns of thought with the biblical renewal of the mind. The book also demonstrates valuable discernment when it distinguishes among spiritual attack, unrepented sin, and emotional wounds, guiding readers toward responses appropriate to each situation.
From Battlefield to Breakthrough is a substantial devotional training resource for Christians who want a disciplined framework for examining their thoughts, strengthening their prayer lives, and applying Scripture to recurring struggles. Its combination of theological instruction, personal reflection, and practical exercises makes it particularly suitable for extended individual study, mentoring relationships, or small groups. One of its most balanced insights appears late in the workbook, where Gibbons describes rest as an act of trust that releases the outcome to God while maintaining faithful obedience. That emphasis completes the book’s larger vision of spiritual maturity as an active, humble, and sustainable way of living.
Decoding Genius is an engaging exploration of chess as a training ground for memory, strategy, resilience, preparation, and self-belief. Dan Shapiro approaches the game as both a curious newcomer and a devoted father, using his son Harry’s experience in after-school chess club as the doorway into a much larger story. The book moves with the shape of a chess match, from opening to middle game to endgame, while introducing readers to the history, personalities, and intellectual habits that have made chess compelling for more than a thousand years.
Shapiro has a gift for making big ideas feel personal and easy to grasp. His portraits of figures such as Miguel Najdorf, the Polgár sisters, Garry Kasparov, and Adriaan de Groot bring chess genius down from the clouds and show the practice, pattern recognition, discipline, and emotional control behind extraordinary performance. He also reaches beyond the chessboard, drawing memorable connections to music, engineering, boxing, aviation, magic, and artificial intelligence. These stories give the book its momentum and make its lessons useful even for readers who’ve never played a serious game.
The heart of the book is the relationship between Shapiro and Harry. What begins as a father trying to understand and support his twice-exceptional child becomes a warm account of shared discovery, growth, and changing roles. Shapiro writes candidly about his own struggles as a beginner, the fatigue and frustration of tournaments, and the strange joy of watching a child become better than his parent. Harry’s voice, especially near the end, gives the book humor, clarity, and emotional weight. His belief that improvement comes from practice, determination, and patience captures the book’s central idea without making it sound like a lecture.
Decoding Genius is ultimately a thoughtful invitation to see chess as more than a pastime. It presents the game as an accessible laboratory for learning how to think, prepare, recover, focus, and act with greater agency. Parents will find plenty to consider here, but the book’s appeal reaches anyone interested in how ability grows and how excellence is built one deliberate move at a time. Decoding Genius turns the chessboard into a map of human potential, showing that brilliance isn’t a mystery to admire but a practice we can begin.
Mia J. Hanks’s I’ve Made Plans chronicles the author’s life after leaving a twenty-nine-year marriage marked by coercive control, emotional abuse, and covert narcissism. Beginning with the finalization of her divorce, Hanks shifts the focus from the dissolution of the marriage to the demanding work of creating a life beyond it. Her account follows a series of practical and emotional turning points, including confronting intimidation, rebuilding self-worth, establishing boundaries, managing isolation, and rediscovering personal freedom. When she leaves the courtroom with the realization that “My future now belonged to me,” the statement becomes the foundation for everything that follows.
The memoir’s greatest strength is its use of specific, everyday experiences to illustrate the lasting effects of abuse. A compromised storage unit, a bag of circus peanuts, a solo road trip, a broken thermometer, and an airplane journey all become meaningful markers of recovery. These episodes show how control can shape seemingly ordinary decisions and how reclaiming those decisions can restore confidence. Hanks writes in a candid, accessible voice that gives the book the intimacy of a personal conversation while maintaining a clear sense of purpose. Her willingness to examine her own people-pleasing, fear, guilt, and complicity in maintaining appearances adds depth to the narrative.
Each chapter is organized around a lesson, such as “Self-care is not selfish,” “Boundaries are necessary,” or “Freedom is priceless,” and many conclude with a journal prompt. This structure makes the book both a memoir and a reflective guide for readers navigating divorce, trauma, or major personal change. The later glossary, diagnostic criteria, list of covert narcissistic traits, and support resources extend its practical value. Some ideas recur across chapters, but the repetition reflects the gradual nature of recovery and reinforces the central themes of self-trust, autonomy, and deliberate healing.
I’ve Made Plans is ultimately a grounded account of reconstruction. Hanks presents healing as a collection of choices rather than a single transformative moment, and the construction of her new home provides an effective final metaphor for rebuilding her identity. Her concluding reflection, “I already love this life not because it is perfect, but because it is mine,” captures the memoir’s emotional center. Honest, encouraging, and thoughtfully structured, the book offers survivors a recognizable portrait of life after abuse while showing how freedom can be strengthened through boundaries, faith, self-care, and purposeful action.
The Stonecaster, by Dillon W. Buck, is a modern parable about James, a sensitive boy who receives a mysterious stone that changes color according to the state of his heart. Through childhood wounds, college temptation, heartbreak, work, leadership, marriage, grief, faith, and entrepreneurship, James learns that life is shaped less by what happens to him than by the quality of his response. The stone becomes less a magical object than a mirror, teaching him that every choice sends ripples outward.
I appreciated how the book uses a simple allegorical device without letting it become merely decorative. The color-changing stone could have felt too tidy, but Buck gives it emotional utility: blue for peace, red for misalignment, gold for purpose. It becomes a private weather system, a way for James to notice what he is carrying before he releases it into the world. I was especially drawn to the early chapters, where James’s pain as a misunderstood child is rendered with enough tenderness to keep the lesson from feeling sermonized. The book is at its strongest when it lets discomfort sit on the page before translating it into wisdom.
What also stayed with me was the book’s insistence that growth is not a single luminous breakthrough, but a repeated return. James fails, forgets, chases the wrong things, confuses intensity with love, and mistakes validation for worth. That gave the story some necessary grain. I found the later sections more openly instructional, and at times the parable edges close to motivational speech, but its sincerity carries it through. The most affecting movement is James’s shift from striving for worth to living from it. That idea gives the book its spine, and it turns the final chapters into something calmer than triumph: a kind of earned stillness.
Readers who enjoy inspirational fiction, personal growth books, leadership parables, faith-based self-help, and coming-of-age stories will find The Stonecaster inviting and useful. It belongs beside books like Paulo Coelho’s The Alchemist or Andy Andrews’s work, though Buck’s focus is less on destiny as a far horizon and more on the daily discipline of response. This is a book for readers who want a story that behaves like a compass, gently but persistently turning them back toward intention. The Stonecaster reminds us that the life we build begins with the ripple we choose to send.
