Almost everyone looks back on their youth and thinks, “I wish I knew then what I know now …” Finding Happy is a book for young adults who want to know right now what it is so many wish they had known back then. What is happy, anyway? Where do you find it?
Filled with gripping adventures and misadventures — from daredevil filmmaking in Africa and Asia to earning a full college scholarship after being completely unable to answer the entrance exam essay question — this book demonstrates just how possible the seemingly impossible often is.
We had a chance to talk with author Peter Samuelson — producer, entrepreneur and master storyteller — to discuss what went into creating the book as well as some of his philanthropic work.
Once you’ve written a book called Finding Happy, what’s the first thing that comes to mind that makes you happy?
The short-term answer is chocolate ice cream. The medium-term answer is chocolate ice cream often. More seriously, in Finding Happy, I explain that the main sources of long-term happiness are unconditional love and service — lifting others up, helping them find agency, power and joy.
I teach a class in the First Star Academies, which I founded for teens in foster care, called “Random Acts of Kindness and Pay It Forward.” Thanks to a generous donor, each student gets $200 and must write an essay proposing how to give it away. Then they revisit their gift to see if it made a difference.
One wrote, “My mom did some bad things, and she’ll be in prison for two more years, three months, seven days. I know she hates the shampoo, so I’m putting money in her prison account for better toiletries — because I love her.” Another added $10 of their own to save three dogs from euthanasia: “I looked into the eyes of a puppy that had been badly beaten and saw my own eyes.”
These students grow emotionally by realizing someone else has it worse, by helping, and seeing, that they matter. That’s most of the meaning of life.
Why this book now?
The world is often fierce and bewildering, especially for young people. Social media compounds their confusion. Through mentoring, I’ve developed a sense of pattern recognition to guess which of two dozen challenges might be affecting someone. So I wrote a chapter on each — for example, “What’s a good risk vs. a bad one? How can you Tell the Difference?” — and illustrated it with stories from my own life, including missteps as a film producer and human being.
You worked with Steven Spielberg in one of your foundations. What was that like?
Steven is one of only three true geniuses I’ve ever met. The producer of ET, Kathy Kennedy, introduced us. I was told I’d have 20 minutes in Steven’s office. Two hours later, he said, “I’m in. What do you want me to do?” I told him about our new charity, Starbright (now Starlight), and that he’d be chairman. He insisted on donating himself before asking others. When I hesitated to suggest an amount, he said I couldn’t leave. Finally, I said, “Two and a half million dollars,” and he said yes.
I walked out in a daze, hid behind a tree and called my wife. She said, “You’re not safe to drive. I’ll come get you.” Experiences like sitting with Steven on the floor at Children’s Hospital, helping kids discuss avatars, have been a rare privilege.
How important is empathy in storytelling?
Empathy is the goal. Stories move hearts — they can make people laugh, cry, feel compassion and want to help. If you do it well, then you can collaborate with them to achieve great things.
What’s one message you’d give to young people?
Ambition is good. If you’re sitting in a dark envelope, poke around. If the pencil breaks through, pull it back and poke elsewhere. Don’t waste your life sitting still. Life is experimentation and ambition.
I also advise having a Plan B. If your dream is high-risk — acting, directing — best to also build a way to pay rent. But don’t give up your dream. That’s the story you’re meant to write.
What’s your favorite restaurant in L.A.?
Nate and Al’s. An institution. I’ve been going since 1974. It hasn’t changed much, and that’s part of the charm.
I was close with a waitress there who had been a nurse in Cedars-Sinai’s ER. I used to joke, “You’ve always worked in cardiology — first healing people, now feeding them things bad for their hearts.” When she passed away, I went to her funeral expecting two dozen people. There were hundreds. Everyone knew her from Nate and Al’s. We each wore a bagel on a string around our necks.
What book is on your nightstand?
I’m developing a series with Marlee Matlin and Shoshannah Stern about the Deaf community’s civil rights journey. Glenn Close recommended Far From the Tree by Andrew Solomon. It includes a powerful chapter on Deaf culture, but the book is broader — it’s about identity and difference. It reminded me that civil rights is a team sport: if we want others to stand up for us, we must stand for them.
Favorite film based on a book?
Immodestly, the film my brother and I produced: Wilde, based on Richard Ellmann’s biography of Oscar Wilde, starring Stephen Fry, Jude Law and Vanessa Redgrave. It turned out beautifully and, I believe, pushed LGBTQ civil rights forward. As a period film, it never ages!
Favorite author?
William Shakespeare. I’d give a limb to have lunch with him. He knew more about humanity than any hundred philosophers and psychologists combined.
What do you hope readers take away from Finding Happy?
The great Rabbi Maimonides described the top level of the soul — the N’shuma — as a club for those who try to do good. He describes what happens when members meet: They feel they’ve known each other for 1,000 years. They say, “Hineni — Here I am. What shall we do to make the world better?” That is community through good deeds.
People think charity is selfless. It’s not. I met my wife through charity. My kids grew up well through charity. I’ve found extraordinary happiness through the seven nonprofits I founded, which together have raised over a billion dollars for seriously ill children, foster kids and the homeless.
The joy I’ve received far outweighs the burden. I love my life. I believe generosity allows us to live forever — through the ripples we create. When you lift up others, and they do the same, they carry your torch through generations. Eventually, our bodies give up, but good deeds — and maybe a few of the two dozen films I’ve produced — live on.
Did you find your happy yet?