The year was 1993. I was in a full blown tantrum. My broker was copping the brunt of my frustration.
“You’re getting rich from me paying you brokerage, and I’m not making any money at all. Unless you can introduce me to someone making bucket-loads of money as a trader, I’m going to quit” I hissed at him.
“You’ve got one month to find someone I can talk to about all of this, or I’m out”.
I’d had it. For three years I’d worked my head off, and traded my account down until there was barely any left. I had no-one to follow, no idea what I was doing, and no patience left at all.
Finally, after a couple of weeks, my broker called me and said: “I’ve found you someone who will meet with you. She’s an amazing trader.”
I was relieved, but scared at the same time. What would this successful trader look like? Would she be approachable? Or would she be a reclusive introvert with no interest in helping me?
I was incredibly nervous but I made an appointment and went over to her mansion in Brighton. It was flipping huge! I brought a box of Mrs Field’s cookies with me as a peace offering and knocked on the gigantic cathedral-like front door. It swung open with a creak. I stood back and craned my neck upwards.
In the doorway was a tall, blonde, middle-aged lady with broad shoulders and a very strong Finnish accent. Her three poodles immediately jumped up on me, wagging their tails, and eager to grab their fair share of the cookies. I held them above my head, and half-walked, half-lurched into her home.
I clip-clopped down her incredibly long hallway. The whole house was decorated in ornate antique furniture. She offered me a tea. I gave her the cookies.
To say I was terrified was an understatement. I regretted not telling my friends where I was going, in case she was actually a mass murderer. She was huge, so could have easily over-powered me. I could feel my imagination running away with me.
The house seemed dark and a wee bit sinister. My heart was beating so loudly, that I barely understood her shrill question: “Why are you here?”
All of a sudden I had a case of verbal diarrhoea. I told her how I wanted to be a trader more than anything in the world. I said that I just knew I had a trader’s blood pumping through my veins, and all I needed was a mentor to help me work out the mysteries of the market. I told her I had ploughed my heart and soul into the markets for three years, but I was still losing money and I was sick of it.
She listened and watched me with her head on the side. Then, when I paused for a breath, she slammed her fist onto the kitchen table and barked: “Do you use candlesticks?”
I sat there, dumbfounded. I had absolutely no idea what she meant. Was I supposed to light candles before I began trading? Was it some sort of ‘ambience thing’?
She could tell I was confused. She lead me to her trading office and showed me a huge room, complete with a Reuters data terminal, and hand drawn 1-hour candlestick charts stuck over every wall. Without a word of explanation, she turned to her terminal, scribbled down some prices, and then started updating her hand drawn charts.
I was completely perplexed and stayed silent as I watched the master at work.
I was hooked. It was mesmerising. I had no idea what she was doing – but I sensed I had stumbled across something very special. That was the beginning of my love affair with candlestick charts.
Once she had finished the final chart, she fixed her pale blue eyes on me and said: “This is what a professional trader does. You have no trading plan. You don’t know what a candlestick chart is. You have no idea what you’re doing. You have no hope of making money. Either you get serious about this, and buy a book on candles or you will fail. It’s time for you to go now. Let yourself out. I have work to do.”
I couldn’t help feeling that I had vaguely disgusted her. She actually sneered at me. But… far out… look at her house! She lived all alone in that huge mansion, with all those poodles, practicing her black magic.
I wanted a piece of that action!
I decided to get serious.
I rushed home, ordered some trading books from the US, and I was in business. The light of the candles had penetrated my heart, and I was in love. Candles allowed me to spot trends, realise when reversals were likely to happen, and regain hope. Hope that I could be the type of trader that I wanted to become.
Fast forward a few years. Flash past the years I spent learning about candlesticks and trading before I quit my job in 1996. Move forward beyond the health issue that nearly crushed me where I couldn’t move my arms for a couple of years. Fast forward past the birth of my two children. Zap past when I become one of Australia’s best-selling authors of books on the sharemarket. Hurdle over the couple of decades that I’ve been running the Mentor Program in conjunction with my business partner – Chris Tate. Zoom right up until today. Here we are – you and I.
At my core, I’m a trader. I’ll bet you are too. That’s why you’re reading this blog, hoping I’ll be able to lead you to spectacular profits.
Every day, I watch pretty little green and red candles do battle on the chart, assess which side is winning, and back that side with my own money. Personally, I never look at any other type of chart, now that I’ve discovered the power of the candle.
This isn’t out of your reach. It’s just a matter of learning the right skills so you can live life on your own terms as a trader.
Grab your copy of The Secret of Candlestick Charting today, and I promise you, you’ll never look back.
Candlesticks turned the key for me. They have been a love affair that’s lasted more than half of my life. After falling in love with candles, I became a profitable trader. They helped me stick with trading, even when I felt like quitting. They enabled me to understand the soul of the market and trade with the trend. And… because they did that for me… I’ll bet you they can do that for you too!
Click here to learn how candlesticks can turn the key for your trading business.