Writing Steve Job's Obituary for CNET

It was 12:43am and I was playing an Xbox puzzle game with and old school friend. I got a text message through the service ifttt telling me Mac Rumors had been updated. It said Steve Jobs had passed away.

I felt sick, for the wrong reason. I had been asked to write a Steve Jobs obituary two weeks before, and it wasn't ready. For some reason, it didn't feel pressing -- I didn't think his death was looming, despite his decision to step down as Apple CEO one month before. But it was.

I drove too fast down wet country lanes to get home. I ran to my laptop, and with the document and research already open, I rewrote the passionless draft with something authentic. Then I wrote a shorter obituary for another client.

Then I asked myself if it was really alright to be profiting from the death of one of my heroes.

Afterwards, as I browsed twitter and watched the world shake with reverence, I remembered writing my first email to Steve earlier the same day. I asked how I could be a better salesman. After all, he found a way to sell thin air to a mass market through iTunes and the App Store. 

He told Stanford University graduates to stay hungry, and stay foolish. Thinking about that, obituaries I wrote and profited from did not seem so callous.

I want to be the best at Apple reporting, and because of the drive he inspired in me since watching the first iPhone announcement, I was in a position to do that for two really huge websites. I'm comfortable knowing that my take on Steve's life and influence did him and those readers justice.

So I've decided my next challenge is to be amazing at sales. Door to door, in conversation, over email, anything. Some deep rooted instinct tells me I should try to be great at it.

It's an example of Steve's influence on my life; he was a walking example being the best. 

Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and others have greatness thrust upon them. Steve is an icon because of all three.