There it is, glaring at you: the blank page symbolising the beginning and end of a project. It tends to cause the near overwhelming urge to crawl back to bed. How does one possibly fight this chillingly blank stare? Unleash your secret weapon. It's time to set your Muse against the fear of the Blank Page.
Who or what is a Muse? Most simply, it is someone else to blame. And sometimes that is enough.
In the ancient Greek world, there were nine Muses. Although they were often portrayed as scantily clad women, inspiring through the arousal of sexual desire was not their primary purpose. Instead, they were both the embodiment and the sponsors of the arts. You could only produce great art if the Muses chose to grant you the necessary skill and inspiration.
In various forms throughout history, the Muse has been used as an entity that bestows inspiration and passion upon an individual (rather than arousing it within them). This is a very important distinction of roles. It was your responsibility to be open and willing to work when the inspiration was given, but it was her/his/its responsibility to give you that inspiration. If you sit down and work, and yet nothing good comes out, well that's not your fault. Your Muse is simply throwing a sick day. You are, of course, responsible for doing everything you can to win the fair Muse over, but you can't expect any more from yourself than this.
In recent history, artists have tried to internalised and take responsibility for this creative element, and the result is the tortured artist. In contemporary times, it is the writer's fault if they cannot produce inspired work on demand. This is stressful enough to make anyone curl up and whimper. It instils and magnifies the fear of failure that can cripple a writer, that fear which causes much of the writer's block in the world.
As such, one of the most important and effective exercises for the developing writer is to find and identify your Muse. Something external to yourself that has the ability to grant you inspiration when it wants, and only requires that you sit down and faithfully work (perhaps directing it a sonnet or two in thanks). Then, unseen, it will infuse its inspirations into your work, and together you will create something great. If the work you produce is not great? Well, your Muse was clearly away at the time of construction.
Take a moment now to discover your Muse. My personal faith works well for me, and you need to find that which works best for you. Give it personality, and characteristics with which you can interact. Sit and make a deal with it: your part is to turn up and start writing on demand (and to woo it on occassion); their part is to bless the process and take responsibility for the outcome.
In general, I have found cats make good Muses. There is something in the way they carry themselves that suggests they have the ability to grant inspiration (it certainly explains why they love sitting on keyboards so much, and perhaps why there are so many photos of them online). They also have egos big enough to take your successes or failures in their stride.
Perhaps you could imagine your Muse is the spirit of your favourite writer, or perhaps Botticelli's Venus, the spirit of new-born art. Whoever she is, her role is to be an external being, there to assure you of some higher meaning to your work, and to remind you to relax and let the words come.
As unusual as it sounds, I urge you to undertake this activity right now. Search for an answer that will work for you and has a strong personal meaning. Either real or imaginary, designate someone else to take the pressure and stress of the creative process, so you can just enjoy having fun.
Who or what is a Muse? Most simply, it is someone else to blame. And sometimes that is enough.
In the ancient Greek world, there were nine Muses. Although they were often portrayed as scantily clad women, inspiring through the arousal of sexual desire was not their primary purpose. Instead, they were both the embodiment and the sponsors of the arts. You could only produce great art if the Muses chose to grant you the necessary skill and inspiration.
In various forms throughout history, the Muse has been used as an entity that bestows inspiration and passion upon an individual (rather than arousing it within them). This is a very important distinction of roles. It was your responsibility to be open and willing to work when the inspiration was given, but it was her/his/its responsibility to give you that inspiration. If you sit down and work, and yet nothing good comes out, well that's not your fault. Your Muse is simply throwing a sick day. You are, of course, responsible for doing everything you can to win the fair Muse over, but you can't expect any more from yourself than this.
In recent history, artists have tried to internalised and take responsibility for this creative element, and the result is the tortured artist. In contemporary times, it is the writer's fault if they cannot produce inspired work on demand. This is stressful enough to make anyone curl up and whimper. It instils and magnifies the fear of failure that can cripple a writer, that fear which causes much of the writer's block in the world.
As such, one of the most important and effective exercises for the developing writer is to find and identify your Muse. Something external to yourself that has the ability to grant you inspiration when it wants, and only requires that you sit down and faithfully work (perhaps directing it a sonnet or two in thanks). Then, unseen, it will infuse its inspirations into your work, and together you will create something great. If the work you produce is not great? Well, your Muse was clearly away at the time of construction.
Take a moment now to discover your Muse. My personal faith works well for me, and you need to find that which works best for you. Give it personality, and characteristics with which you can interact. Sit and make a deal with it: your part is to turn up and start writing on demand (and to woo it on occassion); their part is to bless the process and take responsibility for the outcome.
In general, I have found cats make good Muses. There is something in the way they carry themselves that suggests they have the ability to grant inspiration (it certainly explains why they love sitting on keyboards so much, and perhaps why there are so many photos of them online). They also have egos big enough to take your successes or failures in their stride.
Perhaps you could imagine your Muse is the spirit of your favourite writer, or perhaps Botticelli's Venus, the spirit of new-born art. Whoever she is, her role is to be an external being, there to assure you of some higher meaning to your work, and to remind you to relax and let the words come.
As unusual as it sounds, I urge you to undertake this activity right now. Search for an answer that will work for you and has a strong personal meaning. Either real or imaginary, designate someone else to take the pressure and stress of the creative process, so you can just enjoy having fun.
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