Interviewing for a Muse

The small talk trails off; the candidate perches expectantly on the edge of the chair. “I suppose you’d like to know a bit more about the position.” The earnest young face smiles, the earnest young head nods.

“Well, it’s an irregular sort of job,” I begin hesitantly. “There are no regular hours, and no real responsibilities. Mostly, it’s a job for daydreamers and whimsy-seekers. A person who likes to think of all sorts of things and nothing would like this job. Usually, it involves talking and texting and emailing as we wander from one thing to another. Sometimes, you’ll get a fragment of manuscript to read and react to. Sometimes it will be brilliant. And then it’s ok to say so. Other times it will be horribly bad. And then it’s not ok to say so. Well, at least not straight out. Only enough to hint that the idea is good, but the delivery could be better.”

What are the requirements for a muse anyway? Is there a job description?

Clio, Thalia, Erato, Euterpe, Polyhymnia, Calliope, Terpsichore, Urania, Melpomene. In ancient times, these nine daughters of Zeus were revered as the inspiration for the creation of literature and art. Their legacy trickled down through the ages and our language today: . . . amuse .. .  musing . . . music . . . museum. For a mere mortal, being visited by a muse was a chance to live up to your best. So when a muse departs it’s no small inconvenience. And how, in today’s frenetic world, do you find another?

Someone who has a sense of whimsy, I’ve found. Someone who takes the time to actually read a rambling email, full of sparks and flourish that may contain the kernels of a concept that, carefully honed, could become the nucleus of something later on. Someone who has a sense of the ridiculous, to blithely follow –or lead—a conversation along a random trajectory where a phrase or idea sparks another and another until a conflagration of creativity consumes the mind and produces something new. A muse features a gentle soul, for these nascent ideas can be fragile, easily destroyed by ridicule or indifference.

Sometimes, I’ve found, the best muse can be a companion who never speaks a word but remains by your side, across easy terrain and hard, until the end is in sight and the work is done.

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