My Own Personal Genius

After church yesterday, I came in and flipped on the local NPR station as I often do. I listen as I cook. Radiolab was mid-show when I tuned in, so I don't have a lot of context for what came earlier.  I was, however, absolutely fascinated by two interviews about the creative process.  The first was with a musician, who shall remain nameless because I tuned in mid-interview and can't find it on the web. The other was with best-selling author Elizabeth Gilbert of Eat, Pray, Love fame.

My fascination was with their separate descriptions of controlling the creative process--what I will describe as managing the muse.  Gilbert described the difference in how we talk about "genius," as something a person is, opposed to what the ancient Greeks did, which was something we have.  Having a genius feels rich, maybe even decadent.  Having a genius at my personal disposal offers limitless possibilities.

Both artists described talking to the muse as something one masters. The musician described being in heavy traffic when a marvelous song just came to him.  He said that he told the muse, or as Gilbert would say the genius, that it was obvious that he was in traffic and couldn't capture the song.  He ordered it to come back when he could write it down, if it was to be his song...and it did.  He literally acted as if the muse was his servant.

Gilbert told similar stories, but I was most interested in the one about the title of her popular Eat, Pray, Love book.  She said throughout the writing and even through editing and proofing she could only come up with a "working title" that she knew wasn't right.  She told of an extensive process of soliciting input from many friends, but she knew that none of them were correct.  It was only when she told her muse to give her a title that she awakened the next morning with Eat, Pray, Love, and instantly knew it was the title for which she'd been waiting.

This grabbed my attention because I have had a compelling relationship with titles of my books, both written and those still incubating. I have often had the inspiration for a book that felt like it wanted to pour out of me right now but inconveniences of daily life, like earning my paycheck, got in the way.  Unlike Gilbert, I most often get the title before I get the book.  Years ago I started a folder on my computer called "Books in the Making," and when I had one of these inspirations, I'd start a new document and write a paragraph or two to jog my memory when I have time to write.

It's not like I have had an excess of writing time in recent years, but on the occasions when I have set aside writing time, reading the files has not recaptured the energy of the inspiration that I'd had earlier.  In fact, if I can remember any of it, what remains is a lukewarm trite topic.  Where was the idea that was so great?

I am truly intrigued by the concept of ordering "my genius" to hold that energy and come back to me when I have time to at least write a chapter or two to warm the groove.  I can promise you that I will do so the next time I have an inspiration.  In the meantime, I expect that I will need to build a little "mastering my genius" muscle to figure out how to make the concept work for me, but doing so is a task that I am up to.  In fact, I am actually looking forward to it.  Do you suppose I can name "my genius?"