Chapter 1

What is a Muse?

“Tell me, O muse, of that ingenious hero who travelled far and wide after he had sacked the famous town of Troy.” Homer, The Odyssey

The Classical Muse

The word muse derives from the Greek mousa, meaning a poet’s inspiration or genius, and the concept springs from Classical Greek mythology. At Delphi and Sicyon lived the Three Muses, to whom a man could appeal for spiritual inspiration. Around 700–730 BCE, the Greek epic poet Hesiod created a tradition of the Nine Muses in Theogony that we accept today. Theogony refers to “the genealogy or birth of the gods,” and his name, Hēsiodos, means he who sends forth the voice.

These Nine Muses are the daughters of Zeus and the Titan, Mnemosyne, Goddess of Memory (mnemonics are memory devices). All are associated with artistic and creative endeavors. Calliope, for example, can influence a poet’s ability to write epic poetry. The beloved Erato (think erotic) can help conjure love poetry, while Melpomene influences tragedy and Thalia, comedy.

A man—and in those days, authors were men—would appeal to a particular goddess for inspiration. And so, Homer begins his epic poem, The Odyssey, with an Invocation to the Goddess: “Tell me, O muse, of that ingenious hero who travelled far and wide after he had sacked the famous town of Troy.”

The Odyssey, if we believe classicist and translator E. V. Rieu, was the first novel in Western Literature with its “well-knit plot, its psychological interest, and its interplay of characters” (Intro to the 1946 edition).

Composed in Greek Ionia in the Eighth Century BCE, The Odyssey could well be considered the first epic fantasy novel with its monsters, gods, and supernatural villains who thwart the hero, Odysseus, on his ten-year journey home from the Trojan War. The tale certainly follows the mythological structure of “The Hero’s Journey,” something we’ll delve into in more detail in a later chapter.

As a child, I was obsessed with mythological movies. Ulysses (1954) and Jason and the Argonauts (1963) were two films I watched repeatedly on Sunday afternoons. I was steeped in “The Hero’s Journey” long before I discovered comparative mythologist Joseph Campbell and The Power of Myth in my thirties.

It’s important to note that the classical relationship between man and muse originally occurred on a spiritual level, because later, after the advent of traditional religion, Goddess worship was derailed and the notion of the muse changed.

The Changing Muse

Later, a mortal woman, usually an individual the author adored and held in high esteem, became a poet’s muse. He may have lusted after her. He may have been romantically involved with her. He may have been obsessed with her. And though his love was often unrequited, his passion drove him to create with and for his muse, the source of his inspiration.

Italian poet Dante’s muse Beatrice served as an inspiration in the twelfth century, and two centuries later, Petrarch wrote love sonnets with the lady Laura in mind. In this same fashion, the Romantic poets often chose a beautiful woman as their muse. And in the nineteenth century, W.B. Yeats, who was mad for Maud Gonne, wrote countless poems to conjure her love, which, sadly, he never attained. He then turned his attention to her daughter, Iseult, and she became his muse. Unfortunately, when he proposed, daughter, like mother, refused him.

The Contemporary Muse

Fortunately, times have changed again. Men are no longer the only published authors, and women are no longer the only muses. At a time when anyone and everyone can write and publish, the muse can take as many shapes as the medium.

Comparative mythologist Joseph Campbell has been one of my muses for thirty years. His wisdom has guided me through life, and his teachings on the “Hero’s Journey” are ingrained in my psyche. Among the gold nuggets he offers is this: When you’re caught by an author, songwriter, or poet, explore everything you can created by them.

Another of my muses is singer-songwriter Peter Gabriel, and I’m experiencing his music in a whole new way as I dive into the sound and meaning of his songs. Peter Gabriel’s voice inspired Conall Ceol, one of my favorite characters in To Kill a King and To Dance with Destiny. Conall is a sensitive warrior and gifted Druid bard from Iron Age Ireland. This is Estrada’s reaction when he first hears him sing:

“One August, Estrada had come upon a six-hundred-year-old yellow cedar tree that had been split by lightning only moments before. Its flesh was shredded in long furls, and its raw, smoky perfume caught in his throat and brought tears to his eyes. Electricity shook the leaves like a shaman’s rattle. Somewhere between smoke and brandied sap, its sticky blood drizzled down the rasps. He folded forward into its golden smoke. He thought of it now as he listened to Conall’s voice. It caught his gut like an iron fist and drew him in. Leaning over, he closed his eyes. He wanted more. He wanted to curl into Conall’s yellow cedar soul and steam. “—To Kill a King

In essence, artists who were once inspired by the muses themselves can become your muse. This is how literature continues to flow through generations. Words, beats, and images transcend time and space in this ongoing conversation.

So, if your feet are stuck in the sand, pull them out and dive into the pool where others have swum before. Soak up the inspiration of your creative mentors.

In writing this book, I find myself traveling back to the words of my own muses. You’ll find them sprinkled throughout this book, in quotes, in wisdom, and in words. Now, like never before, you have at your fingertips a vast array of inspiration. In releasing and allowing these voices to resonate, you’ll embark on a journey Ulysses would have adored.

I propose that there is not just one muse for every artist but several who wear many guises—the muse within and the muse without. Regardless of gender, culture, or religion, the muse awaits and need only be invoked. This book will help you find and write with your muse.