The myth of the muse

The muse is not a person. The muse is a habit. People who wait for inspiration get a thin trickle. People who show up at the same desk, at the same hour, with the same pencil get a flood.

This is not because the second group is more talented. It’s because they have stopped negotiating with themselves about whether today is a writing day. Every day is a writing day. The work decides what it wants to be when it wants to be.

“I write only when inspiration strikes. Fortunately, it strikes every morning at nine o’clock sharp.” — W. Somerset Maugham

The mythology around the muse exists for one reason: it lets us off the hook on the days when nothing comes. But the days when nothing comes are exactly the days the work gets done. The good days are when you collect the harvest. The hard days are when you plant.

Most writers are looking for permission. The muse is the permission they invent because they’re afraid to give it to themselves. You don’t need her. You need a chair.