Yoda Versus The Muse
Let me get to the guts of this right away: I don’t believe in the Muse. Or in her more earthly cousin, Inspiration.
I’ve written four novels (I sold three and used one for parts without showing it to anyone), and not one was powered by any outside force. I spent no time staring at a blinking cursor waiting for Inspiration to strike, lit not a single candle to “invite the Muse.” I chose to write, and then did.
Of all the hours I spent writing those four books, I would guess I felt “inspired” about 1% of the time; the other 99% was pure work. If I had written only when the Muse was with me, I would have zero novels to my name.
As far as I can tell, I’m in the minority on this point. I’ve read a stack of articles—I bet you have, too—on various ways to invite Inspiration to your writing sessions. Show up at the same time each day / play this kind of music / drink that kind of tea. Prepare a place for The Muse, in other words, and she will waft down from on high, settle on your fingers and allow the manuscript to flow easily out of you. And the corollary, of course: fail to do these things, and your book will grind to a halt.
It has never made sense to me. Why put your lifelong dream of writing into the hands of something completely outside your control? When your book is published, it will be your name under the title, not Inspiration’s, your photo on the jacket, not The Muse’s. You’re not about to give anyone else credit for your writing. So, why give them control over it?
I don’t believe in Yoda, either, of course, fictitious creature that he is, but I fully subscribe to what he tells Luke in The Empire Strikes Back:
“Do or do not. There is no try.”
I’ve been quoting the pointy-eared green guy to my children for the past decade or more as a means of getting them to do the thing they’re talking about, rather than coming up with reasons why they should put it off, or making excuses for why, even though they’ve tried to do it, they simply can’t.
To me, the talk by writers about waiting for Inspiration or the Muse to settle upon them and bless their writing sessions comes dangerously close, in some cases, to making excuses for not writing. “Oh, I really want to write. I’ve got a fantastic book in me, in fact. It’s just that when I sit down to type it out, nothing comes. So, I’m putting the project on hold until inspiration strikes. As soon as it does, I’ll knock that manuscript out before you can say two-book-deal-and-movie-rights.”
Balderdash, I say. (Because it’s more polite than what I really want to say, and I never know if my mother will be reading).
If you want to write, write. If you don’t want to write, don’t. But don’t spend any more time talking about how much you wish you could, and how hard you’ve tried, but darn it all, you simply can’t do it because every time you take pen in hand, the Muse flies away, and Inspiration won’t stick, and you, therefore, are incapable of proceeding.
You know how you write when the Muse is a no-show and Inspiration can’t find its way through your front door? You write. Pen in hand, sweeping across notebook. Or BICHOK: butt in chair, hands on keyboard.
Nike instructs us to “Just do it.” Yoda doesn’t give a flying Ewok whether we do it or not. “Don’t want to write? Fine,” Yoda would say, “don’t bother.” I’m with the wizened guy in the brown dress: I’m not inclined to push you to write if you don’t want to. Read instead. Play with the kids. Sleep an extra hour. All fine with me and Yoda. And all up to you. To you. Not to some ethereal concept like The Muse or Inspiration.
Write or write not. There is no I’d-love-to-write-and-I-swear-I-have-bestseller-in-me-but-anytime-I-try-I-find-myself-staring-at-a-blinking-cursor-because-I-can’t-seem-to-channel…
If I sound bossy, please know I’m directing this exhortation toward myself as much as to you. This is a physician-heal-thyself situation (minus the medical degree). For the past several weeks, I’ve been taking a break from my work in progress. I’ve had a very good reason for doing this: there’s something going on in my life—we’ll call it “X”—that requires my immediate and undivided attention.
When I’ve got a handle on X, I’ll resume my WIP. Nike might be disappointed in me, but I believe Yoda would nod his oversized head sympathetically and say, “Eh, no worries.” Sometimes things happen, and we decide writing has to take a back seat.
For some reason, though, I’ve spent much of the past weeks forgetting I have a choice in the matter, and whining to myself that because of the mental energy I’m using to deal with X, I lack the inspiration to write.
Say it with me: Balderdash!
If I give some effervescent power the right to control my writing break, when will the break end? When Inspiration rings my doorbell? When the Muse drifts in through the vent? What if those things never happen—does that mean I’ll never produce another book again? No way am I giving those vapory characters control over my writing.
Write or write not.
For now, I’m choosing “write not.” I am choosing it, so I can focus exclusively on X. And when X is sorted out, and I am ready to choose “write,” I will start writing.
Which are you choosing today?
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Julie Lawson Timmer grew up in Stratford, Ontario, Canada. She serves as in-house legal counsel to an automotive supplier near Ann Arbor, Michigan, where she lives with her husband and children. She is a devotee of hot yoga and CrossFit, and is the author of Five Days Left (Putnam 2014), Untethered (Putnam 2016) and Mrs. Saint and the Defectives (Lake Union, 2017).
Twitter: @JulieLTimmer
Facebook: https://www.
Category: How To and Tips, Women Writers
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You are so #WriteON! It’s our choice. That’s what I tell my clients: If you want to heal, grow and transform your self, put the pen to the page and write, write, write. Thank you Julie!