Money doesn't actually talk. We do.

How to Become a Millionaire By 30…Sorta

I love Cinderella stories.

Whether it’s J-Lo rising from the Bronx or Rocky knocking out Mr. T., there’s something inherently wonderful about the idea of someone rising from scrubbing floors to being transported into that proverbial pumpkin.

So when I heard about Alan Corey, the 22-year-old basement-dwelling bro who met his goal of becoming a millionaire by the age of 30, my own impoverished twentysomething soul leapt for joy, but was skeptical. Was he a drug-dealer? Did he invest in Apple right before the iPod? Is he related to Mark Zuckerberg?

In his book A Million Bucks by 30, Corey reveals his secrets. Whether you choose to follow them or not is another matter.

First off, Corey is just flat-out wrong about some things. Example: He advises his 20-something peers to cancel all but one credit card. Cancelling cards is NOT what you should do because it shortens your credit history, thus damaging your credit score. Tuck unwanted cards away in a drawer or if you’re really freaked out about binge shopping, cut ‘em up.

He also advises people to steer from credit cards completely, which could mean missing out on cash back rewards (a.k.a. free money). If he and his soon-to-be-millionaire disciples have enough discipline to eat ramen for weeks on end (which Corey does), then can’t they handle keeping tabs on how much they’ve spent? Maybe he’ll correct such errors in his inevitable sequel “A Gazillion Bucks by 40.”

Factual follies aside, Corey was already ahead of the pack when he started his millionaire quest at 22. He was armed with his degree, no student-loan debt and $10,000 in savings. He moves to New York to take a job that pays around $40,000 and lives in the projects reasoning that “it’s far better to start out in the projects than it is to end up there.”

Corey’s big secret? He takes budgeting to the extreme. He lived off of 39 percent of his modest income, investing the rest in 401ks, mutual funds and stashing other cash away to save for down payments on cheap real estate. He bought crummy apartments in developing neighborhoods, repaired them and rented them out, then expanded his real estate empire to owning a bar, all while staying at his humdrum 9-5 job. He also subsidized his income with appearance fees from various reality TV shows, proclaiming himself a “fame whore” and lied his way into such quality programming as The Jerry Springer Show.

Leaving the ethics of using deception to gain fame aside, I appreciate the spirit of Corey’s book and his consciousness of his own economic situation. It’s nice to know that–in an era of rising tuition, a crappy job market and a bleak retirement savings future–living as a troll under a bridge isn’t necessary. But it’s also important to remember that there is no one way to become a millionaire. Although he’s got over $600,000 in equity by the end, he’s still got hefty mortgages.

Some of his tips are great (scout out happy hours and open bars), some are extreme (eating off of $2 a day) and some are just kooky (habitually taking umbrellas from lost and founds). I guess these are the grittier, lesser-told parts of the Cinderella story. His lists of advice nuggets are by far the most entertaining part of his story, as the rest of his writing is peppered with puns and exclamations like “What the Fran Drescher is happening to me?” and “Jesus H. Lopez!” So he’s not an Ernest Hemingway, or even a Danielle Steele. But don’t read his story for the literary merit; try and suck whatever helpful info you can out of it.

The final verdict: Check this book out at the library rather than forking over the $13.95. After all, that’s what Corey would do.

-Mary Pilon