Does the Muse Really Call? Thoughts from a Writer Who Hasn’t Written Much This Year

So, I don’t know about you but this year—writing wise wasn’t the best. Now, I know you’d be confused about this because, well, I’ve been updating this blog weirdly regularly for nearly eleven months now. But, to be honest with you, that’s like child’s play for me. I can easily churn out a blog a week. Seriously, it’s not that hard.

What’s hard is actually coming up with the topic and doing SEO research and all, and I actually did all that in the beginning of the new quarter. So, yeah. Blogging-wise this year’s been pretty great. But when it comes to my writing? Not really.

In fact, it’s actually around the time when I wrote my blog on writing short stories back in July I think that I actually started writing fiction again. So far, I’ve written only three short stories this year. And it’s going to be two years since I got published in any indie magazines. Not really. I lowkey have a personal goal of having forty-two (because it’s the answer to everything) short stories and creative nonfiction published before I reach out to a literary agent, but I’m not even halfway there yet.

And I want to say that I had stuff going on in my personal and professional lives, but that’s not really what it was. Because if I was hyper busy as I have been, I wouldn’t have been able to write weekly blogs on ATITW. 

It wasn’t a writer’s block either. Like, because I could write. I took on a freelance client for SEO earlier in the year as well. I think what I’m trying to say here is that the muse wouldn’t call me. And I know you’re confused about this, so let’s take a closer look at this.

How Does The Muse Call? (or, Why I Don’t Have Dementia But I Could If I Wanted to)

In hindsight, the title’s in poor taste especially since I do have dementia and schizophrenia and a bunch of other stuff in my family. But it actually does address a weird thing I’ve seen happening to me when it comes to writing fiction. 

I feel like the muse calls me. Which is a very inapt way of describing how the process is. Pretty sure other writers have felt this too (ChatGPT says they do; I didn’t ask for any sources). Basically, you’ll be doing something dumb—in my case, usually on a bus, in a cab, maybe while cooking and I won’t be thinking about anything in particular and it’ll just happen. Out of nowhere. 

This idea—some weird plot bunny—will come in my head and then it’ll consume me. Like, I need to have a pen, paper, my phone—anything that’ll let me write. I can’t not write in that instance. And it’s kind of inconvenient because this happens randomly. And sometimes the intensity of this urge will just be way too much, and I have to turn on my voice notes app and just start speaking. That’s how I’ve written the ending of my manuscript by the way—but we’ll come to that in a second.

I call it the Muse calling me. Which is extremely inaccurate but also kind of lowkey accurate if you consider the origins of the word muse.

What’s the Muse (or, Why’s the Muse the Muse?)

In the modern context, the word muse refers to a person who provides creative inspiration to people in the arts. You’ve probably heard of how Yoko Ono was John Lennon’s muse, how Uma Thurman was one for Quentin Tarantino, and the one I grew up hearing about—how Dora Maar was Pablo Picasso’s muse.

And while usually these relationships are romantic, this doesn’t always have to be the case. Of course, I do think there’s a connection between love and being inspired to write or paint or sing. It just felt weird in my situation because yeah, I have been in love (I guess I still am) but my writing’s never been inspired by a person. I don’t do that. In fact, the one time I wrote a piece inspired by someone (you can find that here. I’m naming it), it was pretty horrendous actually. I cringe when I think about it. It just wasn’t it and it was disrespectful to my late grandfather who I write about a lot because I’m not dealing with that trauma (my therapist highly advises that I should).

Even when I write about my grandparents and my family, it’s less to do from a place of them being a muse, and more to do with the fact that historically, my family’s been something of patrons of the arts. Like storytelling and poetry is kind of part and parcel of growing up in my family. 

The point is, there’s always been a calling—like a moment of inspiration for me where I’m compelled to write or the idea will slip away and I can’t convince myself to write fiction no matter what I do. So, I dug deeper and looked into it. 

The Greek Muses

Turns out, in ancient Greek religion and mythology, the Muses were the goddesses of literature, science, and the arts. And to top it all off, they were considered the source of all knowledge. Mortals would offer tributes to the muses to get inspiration from them. And while I knew the word muse came from the Greek muses, I always thought they were kind of like the Fates.

But that just tells you how completely unknowledgeable I am about Greek and Roman mythology. I’m sorry, I read about Loki in Journey into Unknown and got hooked on Norse mythology in my teen years. And then Tom Hiddleston decided to play Loki in the MCU, and that’s kind of where my brain stuck for a long time.

But that’s me going off topic. In the Hellenistic period the muses were standardised into nine, each representing various aspects and functions. 

The Nine Muses

• Calliope: epic poetry
• Clio: history
• Polyhymnia: hymn and mime
• Euterpe: flute
• Terpsichore: chorus and dance
• Erato: lyric poetry
• Melpomene: tragedy
• Thalia: light verse and comedy
• Urania: astronomy and astrology

They’re all considered to be the daughters of Zeus by the way. Some traditions actually also ascribe them to being daughters of Apollo. And some say there were originally three muses, and then it became four.

But what I found interesting was the way these muses have been talked about in Greek mythology. Like, clearly they represent inspiration. I just found the way this inspiration sparks that seemed to be sort of relatable.

What These Muses Represent (In the Modern Context)

So, clearly the Ancient Greeks thought any sort of inspiration that normal people got had something to do with the gods. And the reason behind this is probably because they couldn’t understand that inspiration comes from within. But what I found most interesting while I was reading up on the concept of muses was how weirdly accurate it kind of was.

Basically, artistic people would—as I’ve said—offer tributes to their specific muse for inspiration, and then they’d get it. I think this is a bit of a roundabout way of doing things. Like, they believed that if they interacted with these muses they’d get inspired. So, in a way, these muses were technically their muses (in the modern sense) and that’s why they got inspired.

But—as a simple writer with no background in mythology—I think it started off as a need to explain where inspiration would come from. As I’ve told you about my experience, it’s just this weird moment where I’m not thinking about it, where I’m not really doing anything important, it just happens. And they explained it by saying that oh, you got blessed by Calliope, Clio, and any of the other relevant muses.

And I guess some part of me probably remembered this bit about Greek mythology from middle school which is why I named the moment of inspiration “The Muse Calling Me.” 

When in reality, there’s no person muse. It’s just a eureka moment that probably comes to me because my brain stops buffering allowing the creativity to finally come through.

Because that’s what it was. After months of no writing, the weirdest thing happened to me. Let me set the stage.

The Muse Called Me Last Month (and I’m Halfway Done with the Final FINAL Edit of My Manuscript)

Last month, on October 31st (kinda poetic), I was chilling in my bedroom, almost dousing off after making this delicious chicken pot pie (let me know if you want the recipe) and lemon cake and devouring it with my sisters. 

There was nothing really happening in my mind. If anything, I was thinking of how boring Halloween’s become. Like, I don’t even go clubbing or to a party anymore. And then it hit me; kind of like a tidal wave, and suddenly that love triangle situation I’ve been talking about—yeah that. And I solved it! 

It’s like, this weirdly specific scene came to me, where my protagonist meets the “bad boy” in the love triangle and the story kicked off from there. I had to grab my phone, turn on the recorder, sit my younger sister down (because she was passing my room) and just started speaking.

It took me twenty seven minutes to outline, in detail, how I was changing not the story, but the structure of the first five chapters, how I was going to edit it to fit this new love triangle angle I’d gotten, and how every romantic scene would be. I even got the entire monologue of the climax (because it’s affected by our bad boy character) on.

It was like a dam bursting. And because of how clear it was, I’ve basically been flying through a chapter every three to four days. It’s lowkey crazy.

What Happens Now?

Well, for starters, I’m writing a lot. I’ve submitted a couple of short stories to two dozen magazines (three have already sent me their rejections), and I’m working on my manuscript.

But I guess, the moral of this little side blog is that inspiration really has no bounds. It can strike any time. If anything, I think it was more like Archimedes’ Eureka moment. Because this had been bothering me for the better part of the year that I’d enlisted the help of an actual author to edit my manuscript and I was not actually writing. Like, I’d be revisiting and rereading stuff but I hadn’t made the changes necessary to actually get the book done.

But yeah, the muse called me at Hallow’s Eve. For the first time in my life. This is the lore I’m running with.

And I wanted to share this with everyone. Next post’s about November’s reading list. Catch you then!

Cheers,

Sura x