I attended more of the recent Writers Conference at UND this past week than I have in years. It was time to get more connected. I had the chance to interact with Chuck Klosterman at both his reading and later that evening during the John Little Tribute at Whitey's. While I had only begun to read his books, what he had to say (and his way of saying it) affected me with a hopefully permanent new kind of confidence.

I asked at the reading if he'd ever encountered the question, in writing of his life in North Dakota, "who would be interested in this?" His answer was simple, in his entertaining manner of dissemination. He told me he writes the books that he would want to read, and I should do the same for myself.

I wondered what circumstances make this so profound to me. It's not unlikely I might have come across this notion before or could have come up with myself. I suspect the perceived authority of hearing it from a celebrity of pop cultural commentary, someone only four years older than me with shared experience as a small town North Dakotan, and a variety of factors more than I can expound on right now, made him the man for the job.

I've always been a self-conscious entertainer. Since writing papers and performing in speech and theater in high school, I've been taught me to know my audience. Basic social etiquette relies on reading people in order to behave appropriately. Somewhere along the line, I got wired to respond to the whims of others, often placing my own interests as secondary, alternate options. I don't completely ignore my impulses, but where the opinion of others is concerned, I've been too willing to take a back seat.

It's like I tricked myself out of ambition.

I feel different now, in all my creative endeavors. The road to achievement seems less riddled with contingent criticisms and doubts about my ability to discern the value of my own work. It's still a concept I need to nurture, but it's a start. So, thank you, Chuck Klosterman, for appearing as the catalyst I so needed.