Calling All Muses

I recently downloaded Sara Groves’ excellent album (CD? What do we call it these days?) Floodplain, and one of the songs, I’ve Been Here Before, stopped me in my tracks. It begins with these words:

I’ve been here before

Staring at a blank page, waiting for a touch

Chasing down a muse that don’t like me much

All I can say is that Sara has been peeking in my windows.

That last line, especially, gets me every time. I don’t know about you, but I have chased that muse around like Tom the cat chasing Jerry the mouse. Sara has finally confirmed it—that muse doesn’t like me much!

I have stared at a blank page for a long, long time willing words to appear. I have waited for inspiration, for God to make a proclamation through me. Unfortunately, I have also decided to give up and go eat some chocolate.

On the other hand, sometimes inspiration hits like a tornado, and I run to the keyboard. Okay, okay—I never run. Like Julie Andrews in The Princess Diaries, I “hasten.” During those times when it seems like God downloads it right into my head, writing is effortless and fun.

Too bad those times are few and far between. More often than not, I have to make it happen, stringing words together and hoping they make sense. God provides the inspiration, but I have to put in the perspiration.

My dear friend, author Sandra Aldrich, does a presentation titled “The Muse Does Not Exist.” In it she busts the myth of the muse, that magical (albeit, mythical) being that supposedly implants flowery prose into our minds. Sandra is a proponent of good ol’ hard work, of toiling away until a piece finally comes together.

Let’s face it. Nothing beats B-I-C: Butt-In-Chair time. When we put in the right time and effort into a piece, writing can seem like the last verse of Sara’s exceptional tune:

I’ve been here before

Quiet in a pasture, honey on my tongue

Resting by still waters

I’ve been here before

Feasting at a table in a barren land

Saying I’ll never doubt, never doubt again

Do yourself a favor and get your hands on Floodplain. Warning: it might convict and challenge you to become a better writer.