Along the way of getting from here to there, I’ve come across a lot of things that I did not know how to do. A lot. And most of them were things I really, really needed to get a handle on.

Along the way of getting from here to there, I’ve come across a lot of things that I did not know how to do. A lot. And most of them were things I really, really needed to get a handle on.

Some, like, say, story structure for example, just made sense. Kind of important for writing stories, right? There are books and classes for that, and it was something I was actually interested in learning.

But then came all the graphics that needed to be designed. Crazy how many of those I needed. How about building an author website? That’s a thing and a half. Once a book is written, it needs formatting and … trust me; the list goes on and on.

And on! All the pieces of the distribution process need to be sorted out. Then there’s the stuff that pops out of nowhere just to taunt you because it can. This week I had to troubleshoot two different software services not speaking to each other. Fun times. You get the idea.

Oh, I forgot, there’re taxes, copyright law, licensing agreements, royalty structures… yeah, I really need to stop there.

When you work for Me, Myself, and I Inc. and things need to get done, there aren’t too many options. Either I hire someone to do those things for me or I sort out how to do them myself. One look at my budget and, well, we are heading for a DIY situation.

When a person who grew up having to rely on herself, for whom advice was as likely a sabotage as a legitimate offer of help, self-sufficiency is the default setting. In such cases, DIY begins with a blank sheet of paper and a great deal of panic. Where does one begin when trying to reinvent the wheel? More than likely, I’ll start with a square, or maybe a cube, and figure it out from there.

But it doesn’t have to be that way. One of my graduate professors, Dr. A, made a point of telling us that one of our most important assets was the ability to learn—which we had proven by making it into grad school in the first place.

So, buoyed by the knowledge that I could learn nearly anything—except maybe some of the upper-level calculus my would-be mechanical engineer studied, cause well, everyone has their limits, right?—I decided to put away the drafting equipment, throw out the sketch of a square, and see if there was anyone else out there who had offered advice on re-inventing the particular wheels I needed.

And so it began.

Drinking from the Firehose

Turns out there was pretty much nothing that someone else hadn’t wrestled with first.

The internet was my constant companion. How to articles. Expert advice columns. Tutorials, troubleshooting guides. Diagrams. Flowcharts. FAQs. Check lists. I sucked them all down, drinking from the firehose, trying not to drown.

There were moments I hated every second of slogging through all that information. Often times I felt stupid and overwhelmed by all the terms and instructions that I didn’t understand and had to look up. (I’m guessing I’m not the only one who hates feeling stupid. Or maybe I am and you guys are just sympathetically patting me on the head right now…)

Even with all the frustration, the truth was that those DIY articles etc, etc, actually did tell me how to get things done. Sometimes the instructions for getting into the deep bowels of my website felt like a terrifying form of black magic. Others had me looking up how to understand what I’d just read. All of them scared the socks off me.

But I had also learned to just say yes, even if I had to do it shaking in my boots. So, I grabbed an extra piece of chocolate and started at step one.

I am not a coder, but I’ve built several websites, debugged them, moved them to new servers, and dealt with security issues—all while screaming “I’m not a coder!” (I still do that regularly.) I built a digital store, learned how to format ebooks and rewrite the code in them (I’m still not a coder!) I’ve designed graphics, published a newsletter. And they are all working pretty well. There’s still a considerable list of things I need to learn. None of which I ever thought I could do.

But by seeking advice, actively asking for help when I’ve come to the end of myself, and following directions from people who have been there before, I did what I never thought I could do. And I’ll do it again. Afraid and not always entirely certain of what or why I am doing the things the instructions say to do.

So go out there, say yes, make peace with the fear, find good advice and see what unexpected things you can accomplish.