I read once how Robert Frost was up an entire night in June, 1922, writing his long poem “New Hampshire.” When morning came, he got up and went outside to see the sunrise and to breathe in the fresh air. Suddenly, the poem “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening” came to his mind in a rush, and he hurried to write it down before the words vanished. Think of that, the words had come to him as though from someplace other than his conscious mind. I believe this is where the idea of a muse comes from, those mythological creatures who were the source of inspiration for somebody engaged in the creative arts. As Steven Pressfield, the author of historical fiction, non-fiction, and screenplays has said:
When we sit down each day and do our work, power concentrates around us. The Muse takes note of our dedication. She approves. We have earned favor in her sight.
While I was writing my novel, An Unknown Soldier, I often had the sense it was being given to me by a muse, a deeper part of myself that I was mostly not conscious of. At times, an idea for a paragraph or a chapter came to me almost fully developed. Other times, I had to labor for several days to find the right word or combination of words. And I learned to quickly write down the gift once it was given, even if it was the middle of the night. More than once, a line or a word I thought I would remember until I got to my computer or a piece of paper had been lost when I awakened in the morning. I came to realize a muse doesn’t like to be ignored; her gifts must be acknowledged the moment they are offered.
David James Madden