I dropped out of college after my first year. Three years later, I returned to college after having been stuck in a dead-end job, working at a department store. I saw school as my way out. But I quickly found myself up against the same problems that had caused me to give up before: I was in over my head with college-level algebra(代数) and a heavy workload of reading and writing homework. In addition, I was still unsure of my career(职业)direction.

After about a week in community college, I was feeling the same upset and fear I'd felt a few years earlier. I was ready to drop out again. Then a smartly dressed woman with grey hair walked confidently to the front of my English composition class."Look at you! You're here because you want to change your lives for the better. And you're going to make it!"

Mrs. Peters didn't know me from any of the other 40 faces in her classroom, yet I felt she was speaking directly to me. She knew exactly what I was feeling and what many of my classmates were probably feeling as well, and she lessened our fears. I came out of that class making up my mind to succeed.

Having trouble keeping up with the workload? Break it down into small manageable pieces, and set up a schedule that works for you, she told us. Professors teaching too fast for you to take notes? Interrupt(打断) them with a question so you can catch up on your notes before they continue, she advised. If college algebra is too difficult, drop back to introductory college math, she suggested. As for English composition, which can be hard and boring, she gave us interesting writing homework.

She never let us lose sight of our dreams. "Go for the best: you're worth it."she said when we graduated.

I left that community college with high grades and went on to do further studies. Mrs. Peters wouldn't know that when she gave that talk, she made a huge difference in my life.

When I tell people I wrote a book with my dad, they usually say, “It must be nice to think of the legacy (留下来的东西) you created with someone who means so much to you.”

This was a beautiful idea, but it was not the way I, or my dad, ever thought about the cooperation. Though we created something we’re proud of, “nice” is not the word either of us uses to describe the process.

“It was more confrontation than cooperation,” my dad likes to say. I agree. When we landed a book deal, we began a writing journey that was more difficult than either of us had anticipated, but also far more rewarding.

For almost three years, we met once or twice a week at my parents’ house and talked daily to plan and outline each chapter. After these meetings, one of us would write a rough draft that the other would build on. I wanted the book to focus on positive vices (不良习惯), such as moderate chocolate. However, my dad felt the book should include chapters dealing with things like walking and spending time with family. Ultimately, I saw it his way. He said the book was about more than just good vices. It was about encouraging people to enjoy life in healthy ways.

Writing this book was a reminder that our family members share not only our faults but also our strengths. My dad is smart, funny, critical and caring. He has a strong passion for the truth. I hope I share these great qualities. For this book, he researched each topic with an enthusiasm I’d never seen from him, and he insisted that we constantly question and critically analyze every piece of information — even our own conclusions. He was determined to cooperate with me on a book, not because he couldn’t write one on his own, but because he believed that we could create something better together than we could alone.

I’m not sure if our cooperation led to better writing, but I’m sure it led to a better writing experience. Writing this book was difficult, sometimes more difficult than past projects, but it was never lonely.