A writer is a very optimistic person. Thinking that they might write something they find worth reading, a publisher finds worth funding, a bookstore finds worth carrying, a patron finds worth purchasing, and a reader finds enjoyment in is a tall order.

When I was really young I wrote two “books.” They were each about five notebook pages long and had about a dozen staples on the left margin. They were picture books and I plumbed the depths of my Crayola crayon box to forge these works. One ordered and explained the solar system and the other told a short story about a witch that lived in an icy cave. Both were well-received.

By the time I was in seventh grade, I had written a seven notebook-long sci-fi/fantasy adventure story, complete with naval battles, ancient knights that popped out of special stones, and a one-armed ninja. It was ahead of its time.

I didn’t start writing long, continuous fiction again until November 2009 when I enrolled in NaNoWriMo, the National Novel-Writing Month. This online community with chapters all over the world asserted that the only thing standing between an aspiring author and their completed novel is a deadline. The challenge is to write a 50,000-word novel in 30 days. This means challengers must write at an average 1667 words per day (a number I know all too well). When I hit the 50k finish line, it turns out that all those words told only a fraction of the story. Hitting that goal was good enough for me for a while. The plot was bursting with surprises and twists to a point where I didn’t know where to go from there.

And then I stopped writing.

Oh! I could use a break for a couple of days, let the plot simmer for a while. What else was I going to do before inspiration comes knocking? First it was a week, then a few weeks, and then longer. Eventually I got curious and thought it was time to read the manuscript.

    As I read, it dawned on me that maybe this huge project I had undertaken was a fool’s errand. My inner editor, enjoying himself on an idyllic cruise since November 1st, had just returned. Allegedly I had left this place a mess. If I wasn’t careful, he was going to be changing and deleting things I might want to keep.

Debating about what to do got me thinking about “experts.” Their presence in our lives is unavoidable and, for better or worse, the process of becoming an expert is an elusive phenomenon. I pondered on how Jack Kerouac or J. K. Rowling went from here, with half a manuscript, to commanding the Beat Generation, or enjoying films and a theme park made in the image of their writing. Surely they didn’t hesitate at 50,000 words, but I’m also sure they didn’t know what the future had in store for them.

I feel people intimidate themselves out of exploring new ways to express themselves, for fear of not doing it well. On many occasions I have caught myself saying I can never “do” visual art, but you know, if I had a brush and paints and a canvas in front of me, I could make some visual art. I might make a lot of crappy watercolors before I make a good one, but I would have still explored it.

Considering the nature of the arts, arresting yourself to self-doubt and fear of not doing things expertly is caustic to your growth and the growth of the community. Consider the Chippewa Valley’s vibrant culture of music, jam-packed with artists of an entire spectrum of genres, music blogs, venues, radio shows, and concert series. There are a LOT of them (I know; I do Volume One’s community calendars).

I’ll be damned if I’m inclined to participate and then decide not to. So, as Jerry Garcia will have it, they “keep truckin’ on.”

Or, as local rockers Meridene will have it, “When you must test out the waters all on your own/the waves will sway … to strengthen your resilience.”

So I’m going to write a lot of bad fiction before I start writing good fiction, and I’m kind of OK with that. After a recent spring vacation I’ve captured the inspiration to continue writing my novel and the courage to self-impose a deadline for the first draft’s completion. In the same way, I, and the rest of the Chippewa Valley, are looking forward to you stepping up and contributing to the excellent and mutually uplifting local arts community. It is a lot easier than you think, and we are excited to see what you have in store for us.