
A shop to run
It starts as a garage with one bench and a stack of reclaimed pine. Orders go up on the cork board, guitars move from bench to bench, rent comes due every season.
Grow it into a storefront, then a workshop. Hire a kid who wants to learn. Hang spare guitars on the wall for walk-ins.

Build what they hear
Every order is a sound. Warm or bright, a long ring or a hard attack. Pick the woods and the parts and watch the shape on the wheel move toward theirs.
Then there's the person. One wants a sunburst. One can't stand a shiny guitar. One is allergic to rosewood. Nell will help with a design once a season. The rest is up to you.

Your hands at the bench
Ten short jobs. Saw a billet and open it like a book to see the figure inside. Wind a pickup to the count without snapping the wire. Carve braces on the beat, bend the sides over a hot pipe, tap the top until it rings true.
Good work makes a better guitar, and it pays on the spot.

Then you play it
Every guitar gets a first strum, and it sounds like what you built. Pick it up and play it on your keyboard or controller. Everything stays in the town's key, so whatever you play sounds like music.
Customers will play you a lick and ask for it back. Get it right and they tell you more about the sound they're after.
Five towns, five sounds
Each town has its own customers, its own wood and its own scale to play in.
A river town. Cypress in the backwater. Half of them play slide.
Above the snow line. Spruce grows slow up here, and the grain comes in tight.
The city. The rent is high and the amps are higher.
The coast. Good wood washes up. So do customers.
A dry hill above the olives. They build guitars face-down here, the old way.

Two at the bench
Hand a second controller to whoever's on the couch. One heats the pipe while the other bends. One spins the winder while the other lays the wire. When there's nothing on the bench, someone can sweep.

A family trade
A career runs a few years. Then you hang up the apron, choose who takes the shop, and pack three things into a trunk for them.
Every generation unlocks something for the next: a new town, an old trick, a way to start. When it gets easy, there's the Ladder.
