Following the Muse, part 2

Before, I discussed how the muse speaks, what I do when she does, and why I tend to be very sorry if I don't.  As I wrote that post, I began to realize just how much of a problem it can be to follow the muse willy-nilly, because as I said later in that post, this tends to net you several projects in various states of completion, and a muse itching to start something new. 

Now for a creative like me, this is both a blessing and a curse.  Most creatives I know always have this nagging fear at the back of their mind that the project they're working on will be their last, and when they're done with it, the muse won't visit, they won't know what to do next, and that will be the end of things.  The longer we create, however, the more we realize this isn't the case, but that fear never leaves, and so when the muse visits, we tend to pay attention.

The curse, of course, is that none of my publishers, choirs, or readers want creative projects that are only half-way finished.  That means that, at some point, all those half-way finished projects need to become finished projects.

Here's what I'm talking about:  I currently have a string orchestra piece finished except for final editing; one violin solo (part of a set of three) done except for final editing, another ready for me to add markings and dynamics, and another that isn't even started yet; and a set of three bell arrangements where one of the three is totally done and the other two haven't even been started yet.

Also here is a proof of a handbell piece I need to have corrected and back to the publisher by September 8 (two weeks from today), as well as instructions on two pieces he'd like from me (though those, thankfully, aren't due till next summer).  I also have one piece I need to add a part to for the Raleigh Ringers, and another publisher who wants me to make some changes to a piece before they'll accept it.

I also have the back of a handbell catalog where I sketched an idea for a piece that came to me while I was driving, and a SAB choir arrangement I got half-way through before my wife said it was too hard for her group at school, so I set it aside to finish it later.

These last two things -- they're the key.  The muse called me to write, so I wrote what she gave me.  Now she's gone, but I don't panic, because I know the muse's visit is just the first part of the thing.  The muse gives great ideas, but the completion of the work, that falls squarely on my shoulders.  The muse is like a supervisor who comes in, tells me what needs to be done, then leaves me alone to do it.  She might poke her head in occasionally and make a suggestion or two, but I've earned enough of her trust that she's going to let me go, only checking on me every so often to be polite. 

The truth of the matter is, the creative process is, as the old adage goes, one percent inspiration and ninety-nine percent perspiration.  The muse is the one percent (though it's more like ten or fifteen, at least), getting me started, and then it's up to me to put in my hard work and finish what she started.  When she visits, I write down what she tells me, or just enough so I remember what she said, and then I'm free to go off and work on what needs done, knowing that I listened to my muse and will do the work she gave me when the time is right.  This is why writers carry around notebooks with them wherever they go, and why I keep a book of manuscript paper near at hand at all times.  When the muse calls, I want to jot down what she tells me and have it handy so when I'm ready to do the work, I don't have to go crawling back to her and ask her to tell me again, because I know from experience, she won't.

The muse visits only infrequently, and not for very long at a time.  When she does come, it's of such supreme importance that I stop what I'm doing and focus, because I know in five or ten or twenty minutes, she'll be gone, and I'll go back to what I need to be working on.  As long as I keep working, finishing some projects and pushing others farther toward the edge of completion, I know she'll keep visiting me when I need her to, and will give me exactly what I need to keep going.

In the next part of Following the Muse, I'll talk about how you find your muse if you've lost her, or how to get her back on your side if you've offended her.