That Time I Spent Entirely Too Much Time and Money Building a Crappy Guitar

I built a guitar from scratch once. It was terrible.

The Backstory

We were replacing our old dining room table, and I noticed that it was just about half the thickness of an electric guitar. I realized I could probably cut two blanks out of it, glue them together, and have a nice body blank to work with. So, rather than send it to the landfill, I decided to reuse it in a unique way: I’d build an electric guitar and call it the Tablecaster.

I wasn’t entirely new to making guitars at that point. Several years prior to that, I’d started making cigar-box guitars. I’d never much worked with tools before, and I decided it was important for me to learn how to use basic tools. I stumbled across cigar-box guitars and decided to give them a try.

Although I would never claim that I’m especially handy or good with tools (more on that later), I did make over two dozen instruments and sold a number of them as well.

We were replacing our old dining room table, and I realized I could probably cut two blanks out of it, glue them together, and have a nice body to work with.

But cigar-box guitars, it turns out, are a far cry from a full-sized electric guitar.

And so it was that I found myself in my garage one day with a guitar body blank and a vague sense of dread.

The Obstacles

Here’s the deal: I am self-taught in many areas. When I started making cigar-box instruments, I knew nothing about anything. Neither had I ever met anyone who built any kind of instrument. I had to figure it out as I went. So when I started on a full-size guitar, I was right back to square one.

And so it was that I found myself in my garage one day with a guitar body blank and a vague sense of dread.

I sketched out a few drawings and had some ideas about the finished product, but the process more closely resembled treading water while the Titanic sank. From the get-go, the build was a series of problems to overcome, some of which seemed insurmountable.

I had never met anyone who had built any kind of instrument. I had to figure it out as I went.

The first, and biggest, issue was my bandsaw. It was a cheap Harbor Freight model and I probably didn’t have it set up right (self-taught, remember). The upshot was the saw would not (and still does not) cut a straight line — it ran all over the place. This made cutting the body to shape extremely difficult. But I somehow got it done.

The next issue was weight. The table body was massively too heavy, so I used my drill press and a 1” bit to hog out most of the inside to make it a semi-hollow instead of a solid body. That meant I needed a cap, which I had to glue up, all the while half-guessing how to do it the “right” way.

I sketched out a few drawings and had some ideas about the finished product, but the process more closely resembled treading water while the Titanic sank.

Routing out the neck slot was the next challenge because I was not experienced with a router (or how terrifying they are!) and precision was the name of the game. It took a long time and a lot of walking away in frustration before that task was done.

The neck had its own challenges. I actually was doing a halfway decent job at first. I figured out how to route out a straight line for the truss rod and got that installed. But I made a few big mistakes. First, the headstock ended up being too small — the tuners barely fit. More importantly, because of my lousy bandsaw, I cut one side of the neck too narrow, which meant the high E string was too close to the edge of the fretboard.

There were a number of times when I honestly thought there was no way I could finish it. The problems were too big and I wasn’t skilled enough.

Finishing the guitar presented even more challenges. Although I used center lines, my pickups were slightly off-center. And I used a bone nut that I poorly shaped, resulting in a guitar with too-high action that was hard to play. I don’t even want to talk about the electronics, but suffice it to say I eventually got them working.

The Results

At the end of the build, I was rewarded with a costly, time-consuming guitar that could actually make sound through an amplifier (yay!) but certainly wasn’t up to even the most basic level of quality. From that perspective, the whole thing was kind of a flop. It wasn’t going to be my main guitar like I had hoped. It mainly looked good on the wall, if you kept your distance (and maybe didn’t have your glasses on).

At the end of the build, I was rewarded with a costly, time-consuming guitar that could actually play but certainly wasn’t up to even the most basic level of quality.

So yeah, as a guitar, it stunk. But I’d like to think the project was a success in many other ways.

First, in the middle of making the guitar, there were a number of times when I honestly thought there was no way I could finish it. The problems were too big and I wasn’t skilled enough. Yet I did finish. I had objective evidence that I could do hard things. This knowledge has served me very well over the ensuing years.

Second, I learned a ton about tools and guitar-making. If I were to make another guitar completely from scratch (which I would like to do at some point), it would probably end up much better than the first one. And if I committed to making a number of them, I have no doubt there would come a point where I was making passable instruments.

So yeah, the guitar stunk. But it was a success in many other ways.

(I have since made a guitar using a factory-made neck and put together a few kit guitars. They’ve turned out decently.)

Third, it helped with my ability to make basic repairs. I set up all of my own guitars, and I even just swapped out a plastic nut and saddle for bone on one of my acoustic guitars. I can level frets, adjust truss rods, and lower or raise the action without having to pay a guitar tech to do it. I can even do some basic electronics work if I must.

Fourth, I appreciate good craftsmanship so much more now. I stand amazed when I come across any guitar that is well made. Craftspeople like luthiers often do not get enough credit for how amazing they are and the work they do.

I can now perform basic repairs and set up my own guitars. I can level frets, adjust truss rods, swap out nuts, and lower or raise the action without having to pay a guitar tech to do it.

In the end, whenever I look at my handmade guitar hanging in the closet, I have a mix of feelings. The honest truth is the guitar is just not very good. But I am proud of the fact that I did as good of a job as I did while basically going in blind with not a ton of natural talent to work with.

And as driven as I am in my life to produce results, the guitar serves as a constant reminder that I can’t always control the outcome, and I can’t always guarantee perfect work. But I can keep moving forward in spite of obstacles and always give every endeavor my best effort. If nothing else, having a tangible reminder like this was worth the battle, even if I didn’t accomplish exactly what I set out to do.