I met my muse for the very first time

[dnoftz]

I've never really believed in the concept of a "muse." To be honest, I've always rolled my eyes a little bit when other writers start talking about their muse like it's a roommate that lives down the hall. I am a left-brained logical person, and the concept of having a muse just made no sense.

When I decided to begin work on my sweet spot map for Lesson 2, I approached it with (surprise, surprise) a logical and methodical plan to complete it by the end of the week. I would work on one "segment" of the map each evening for 10 - 20 minutes. After 6 days, I would have the exercise completed.

So I sat down planning to work on "I fear." For the first 10 minutes or so, I was only writing down the mundane and obvious. But I quickly realized that this was a necessary step. I was clearing away the vines, old branches, and dead leaves that were concealing a vast stone wall in my mind. Once all the garbage was cleared away, I punched a small hole in that wall. And through that hole, I heard whispering.

Suddenly I was writing thoughts for all 6 segments at the same time. I was messy. I drew lines connecting thoughts that did not appear to be related. I contradicted myself. And I wrote down things that surprised me.

I met my muse for the very first time as I listed to her faint whisperings coming through that stone wall. That's right... I said "her." Since I'm a man, I had just assumed that if I did have a muse, it would be a "he." I can't explain why, but I feel the need to refer to my muse as "she." I'm not sure if that really means anything, and I'm not sure if it is unusual, but it certainly is interesting.

I also realized that I will never really complete my sweet spot map. It will continue to change and grow over time. My challenge will be to finish knocking down that wall.

Amazing.

--Dave

[djmills]

Well done. You will find a lot of us commented in old threads about looking and listening for our muses.

I couldn't believe my muse would actually talk when I asked a question but I listened and once started, I now can't shut my muse up.

Hope you enjoy the rest of the course as much as the sweet spot lesson.

[Cat-Gerlach]

Thumbs up!

I am a very, very logical person, too and I was soooooooo amazed when I realized my muse had a personality. I had been communicating with her before but this was so much different. It is a joy now.

[Holly-Think]

So I sat down planning to work on "I fear." For the first 10 minutes or so, I was only writing down the mundane and obvious. But I quickly realized that this was a necessary step. I was clearing away the vines, old branches, and dead leaves that were concealing a vast stone wall in my mind. Once all the garbage was cleared away, I punched a small hole in that wall. And through that hole, I heard whispering.

Suddenly I was writing thoughts for all 6 segments at the same time. I was messy. I drew lines connecting thoughts that did not appear to be related. I contradicted myself. And I wrote down things that surprised me.

I met my muse for the very first time as I listed to her faint whisperings coming through that stone wall. That's right... I said "her." Since I'm a man, I had just assumed that if I did have a muse, it would be a "he." I can't explain why, but I feel the need to refer to my muse as "she." I'm not sure if that really means anything, and I'm not sure if it is unusual, but it certainly is interesting.

--Dave

Awesome! That's the way it worked for me, too. (The way it still works, actually). A lot of logical, orderly stuff followed by a rush of material I couldn't explain and didn't expect... and then connections that floored me.

And my muse trends male, with occasional dips to the feminine. I find myself thinking of it as "he" or "she" or "it" depending on circumstances, and it changes from project to project, and sometimes from character to character.

The mind is an astonishingly flexible thing, and a really cool toy.

[marti-v]

How exciting, Dave!

They say two heads are better than one. How lucky we are as writers that both "heads" are in the same cranium!

[anschau]

Dave, you note made me teary, and by the way, my muse is definitely male, though I am a female.

[pattyloof]

I met mine for the first time also. I always thought the muse thing was (to be honest) dumb. But there she is.

[Nymph_Arme]

Yeah, I too met mine for the first time, I was also doing the Sweet Spot Map and three unrelated words came to me. Dark, Secretative and Likes Shiny Things, a bit odd and worring when I was doing the "Things I get Shivers from..." Section

As a writer, I must admit I'm a odd one, I have NVLD - Which stands for Non-Verbal Learning Disorder, I am a small percentage of people who can not visualise, I do have very, very visual dreams - Like I was someone else leading another life somewhere.

My mind is constantly talking, I was born deaf and feared for a long time after my op, that I'd never hear again, So most of my mind Lives on the right side and my creative Imagination. I hear all the details which describes all my stories in enough detail, that I don't worry much about not being able to see.

Although I do have programs that I can play with to help me visualise when I need them; Bryce, Daz Studio, Poser, and Pro fantasy.

So Corvus popped up, out of the blue, from seemingly no-where. When I typed into Google - Dark, Secretative and likes Shiny things, I found about half way down an article on Native American Totems, I already knew mine was a Crow, so when I re-read the "Get Your Muse to Speak Louder Article" my muse gave me those three words again.

So know I the following things about my Muse - It's a male Raven, and his name is Corvus, he like the Dark, being hidden, Secreative and Mysterious and he loves Shiny Things.

Time to have fun with my stories, now I know my muse he's given me a lot of ideas for my current projects, as finally I've learnt to listen.

Thanks for starting this thread and thank you Holly for letting me finally meet my muse.

[Holly-Think]

Nymph_Arme--- You're welcome. And congratulations. Coming face to face with your muse is amazing stuff.

It's always fascinating to me to consider that there are two of me inside my head, connected by that thin, fibrous band of tissue, who each know things the other doesn't in ways the other doesn't---and my job as the coherent whole is to get both of their ideas on paper.

[RavenCorbie]

Holly - I know what you mean! Although I've thought for a long time that I actually have millions, possibly an infinite, number of personalities in my head, it still amazes me when I think about it consciously.

And Nymph_Arme - one of mine is a male Raven, too, and like your Corvus, he is dark, secretive, and loves shiny things!

[Nymph_Arme]

Hi RavenCorbie, I'm glad I'm not too mad thinking my muse has a personality, although I did wish he hadn't shown up in the "Things I get Shivers from" on my sweet spot map

But hey I can't complain, I've found him now and he likes calling the ideas I get from him, his shiny things hum....

I do think, that our muses also show themselves in our stories, which I think gives our stories a more unique perspective. For example, one of my characters has a penny whistle, which just happens to be made entirely from Brass (like mine), which just happens to be shiny...

Sorry Holly, I'm borrowing your one for a mintue. Holly has references to wings in some of her stories, no wonder when her muse shows it's self sometimes as a Blue Jay.

I'm sure as you look at your stories, you'll find little parts of you and you muse, that add nice quirks, although all my stories have Chocolate in them, no matter where in the universe or whenever the time frame, or what Genre the stories are, Chocolate always, always shows up.

Sorry for my ramble, just thought it would be interesting to point out

[kitkat]

I've known my Muse for a long time... we just haven't always gotten along. I'm a woman and my Muse (a she) is surly, tenacious, passionate, headstrong and a fountain of ideas... which has always overwhelmed me and stalled out a lot of projects. During the Lesson in which we are supposed to name and create a visual reference for our muses, mine flat out refused to partake in the process. The intriguing thing is that since starting this course, she's reigned herself in. We actually have a better two-way relationship now. She blurts less and I'm thankful for that. For all of you meeting your Muse for the first time, how exciting. Enjoy the early stages of this new relationship. It's the type of awakening few people get to experience. Happy writing!

[Ivye]

Sorry, I'm late with this, but I just had to add my two cents.
Other logical person, here, so I know where Dave is coming from.
I started out thinking the "muse" concept cute and ornamental, not a really practical thing, not something that would influence my writing.
And then, when I started working on it... nothing happened at first.
"See? What did I tell you?" My conscious mind (who, by the way, happens to be a Hussar, alternating bright red and blue dolmans), was feeling smug. "We can make up all the muses we want. We've always done it, haven't we?"
And I fully agreed with the Conscious Hussar, and went my way, and considered owls (I love owls), or tiny elephants (same as above), or elizabethan playwrights' shadows, or gorgeous disembodied voices, or silent movie divas...
So, when the Will o'the Wisp happened, it was really unexpected.
And really persistent, and wouldn't go away, no matter what, because it was my Muse, thank you very much.
I say "it", because I don't know better. I don't know its (his? her? but no, I somehow don't think it's a she) name, and we still don't trust each other very much. I think because the Wisp is real... well, you know what I mean here. It's no cute, obliging, made up, imaginary friend. It won't come for tea and chit-chat. It doesn't even talk (or whisper) in any way.
It show up, points to something it likes, and wants, and pesters me until I give in. Then the Wisp will sporadically light the way to the playthings I'm supposed to find, then will leave me in the dark with the playthings, and I will have to find my way home alone - well, not alone: the Conscious Hussar is on the door, holding a lamp and shouting for me.
See why I don't trust the creature yet? Why I so want the Conscious Hussar, instead?
But still, it's there, and won't go away, or leave me alone. Or cease to throw ideas my way.
Let's say we're still studying each other, for the moment.