Empty Cups and Silent Muses February 27, 2019 I believe it was Jung who described the creative urge as a kind of neurosis, and said that it expressed itself two ways. In one, the artist filled up with energy like a cup filling with water, then emptied himself all in one burst, and so had to wait until the cup refilled before he could go back to work. In the other, the artist had a cup of creative energy that was full but the incoming energy overflowed the rim, and so had to be dealt with constantly. I'm firmly the second kind of artist. I write every day, and have a minimum daily word count. Paradoxically, though, there are times when I--like the first kind of writer--feel my cup has run dry. So how does someone who's a daily writer deal with those times when they feel they have no creative energy, when the muse has gone silent? One method is, of course, to take page from the first kind of artist and take a break from writing, be it for a couple of hours or a couple of days. This has worked for me from time to time. I get up and do the dishes and a couple of loads of laundry and suddenly, the problem that had left me at a dead end resolves itself and I can sit back down and pick up writing where I left off. Or sometimes, I'll purposefully and consciously schedule a day in which I don't write at all, but run errands or spring clean the house or sit on the couch and read. But so far, the longest break that hasn't been forced upon me by circumstances has been about two days. Then the urge to write overpowers me. The most common method I use is to simply just continue writing. Sometimes I stick with my current project, knowing that the muse will take what I've written and return it back to me in a better form later. Sometimes I pick an entirely different project--or no project at all--and write, knowing that even if the muse isn't around, the writing I do do is practice that will make me a better translator of her inspiration into words, and that the pages I've written will become the raw material of some later story or essay. This is the writerly equivalent of scales on the piano or a bit of noodling out a new melody. As for you fill/empty-type writers, I'm afraid I don't have any practical suggestions for what to do when the muse doesn't seem to come back as rapidly as you'd hoped. Perhaps try writing "dry," since I believe it's possible to go back and forth between the two types of writer (or even to be both types, depending on the project and genre). In any case, have confidence that the muse will return and that the cup will fill up again. Because it will. (c) 2019 by Andrew Gudgel email: contact [at] andrewgudgel.com