
Shakespeare died today.
I mean, 393 years ago today. You know. I just thought it might have more impact if I started this post on that sort of stark tone. Like Albert Camus in The Stranger. But I think he might have done it better. Well, Matthew Ward did it better, when he translated L’Etranger’s iconic opening sentence as “Maman died today.”
I have a sort of problem with writing, in that I tend to emulate the writer who I’ve most recently read. On the one hand, it gives me an ever-changing tone (both writing and speaking) that is by measures repulsive and refreshing. On the other, I need only read any book by an author in a genre I am trying to write, and I am suddenly and quite magically able to write like them. Doesn’t matter if it’s Stephen King or Shakespeare. I’m not sure if that’s quite how a muse is supposed to work. But it is one of the ways that it has worked for me as an individual and a writer. Would-be writer. Will-be writer.
That being said, this post is on finding your muse. I can’t offer much worldly advice, to be honest. I’m not a published author (other than by virtue of these blog posts). But I’m thoroughly convinced that whether or not you choose to admit or even recognize it, writers have muses—forces behind their work that empower and strengthen their writing. The trick, then, is to discover which one (or ones) do that for you. To that end, I’ve offered a list of ten questions and statements that might inspire you to find a muse of your own, or recognize one that you might unconsciously already have. All in honor of our dear, departed Shakespeare, whose spirit lingers still.

- When you want to understand the nature of dying, death, and life beyond death on a cold, rainy night while you’re curled up on the couch, what book do you turn to?
- You have one of those days where you wish you were still in school so you could learn something, anything that doesn’t have to do with pop culture and celebrities—so you decide to pick up a book by this author.
- The world is a big, bright, beautiful place today. You know just the person to express the world’s music and art and color and love and peace (and all that jazz).
- You’re really into escapism right now, and you’re in the mood for (a) the grim, dystopian future world that our society might become, or (b) a big, fat tome of fantasy in another world altogether, where pointy ears generally means you’re a Fay. Which do you choose, and by what author?
- Writing can be inspired by images: landscape photography, fashion sketches, comic book drawings, ancient sculpture or graffiti art. You find a coffee-book table with one of these subjects that’s heavy enough to give any potential attackers a concussion. Whose art does it feature?
- When was the last time Hollywood made a scary movie that kept you up late at night, terrified that it was coming to get you if you turned out the lights or opened the closet? You pick up a book by this author instead.
- “She Blinded Me with Science!” isn’t just a classic eighties hit by Thomas Dolby. It’s become the mantra you incessantly hum in your head when you dive into a book like this author’s.
- Maybe you were never into poetry and a Shakespearean sonnet puts unpleasant thoughts in your head, but you do remember that one haunting or funny or silly or weird poem that stayed in your head far beyond the first time you read it. Who wrote that poem?
- Ah, childhood. It’s so wasted on children! Remember that series you read and re-read and begged your parents to buy for you in its shiny boxed set? The one you’re planning on sharing with your kids or nieces and nephews (once they put down that video game controller…)?
- Silence is golden. Sometimes. But sometimes a little music is all you need to get you started. You’re browsing iTunes or Pandora or a good old-fashioned radio station until you find the perfect music by this artist.
Feel free to share with us who your muses are, or give us and our readers a few ideas to help find them. And in honor of Shakespeare, a personal muse of mine:
“The remarkable thing about Shakespeare is that he is really very good—in spite of all the people who say he is very good.” — Robert Graves