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In Xanadu did Kubla Khan

A stately pleasure-dome decree :

Where Alph, the sacred river, ran

Through caverns measureless to man

Down to a sunless sea.

Samuel Taylor Coleridge’s poem, Kubla Khan, is considered a masterpiece, but it is a masterpiece that will forever be unfinished, because while he was writing it, just as his muse was at it’s soaring height there was a knock on his door. The Man from Porlock knocked, had to be answered, and by the time this mysterious visitor left the poem was cold ashes in Coleridge’s mind. It would be published unfinished with the blame being laid on The Man from Porlock. The idea being that once interrupted the muse had never returned to help him complete the poem. That can happen, actually, but it’s usually more a delay than a complete defeat. Of course, I’m a novelist, not a poet, so maybe there is a difference in the muse for one as opposed to the other. Maybe the muse of a novelist must be made of stouter, more long wearing, stuff just to complete hundreds, thousands, of pages?

But I’ll totally agree with Coleridge on one thing, one small interruption of mer minutes either in person, or on the phone, can destroy hours of momentum in front of the keyboard. There does seem to be a rising tide to writing, and if you miss the peak of the wave your literary board wipes out and you’re rolled along the sand, pounded to pieces by the weight of words unwritten. Sometimes, you just miss the wave all together and you’re left sitting on your board floating, watching the curling, grace, of your idea roll by with no way to catch it. The wave passes and flows into the sea of other lost ideas, and sometimes it is truly swallowed forever, but most of the time another wave will come and you can catch that one, and it will carry you to shore, through exciting moments, and finally breathless safety on land.

But what constitutes an invasion from Porlock for a writer? People are the biggest threat to your creative efforts. The death of your novel is very like any murder, you are over 80% more likely to be harmed by those nearest and dearest under your own roof than any stranger. The love of your life can either be a great asset, almost a muse in themselves, or a muse-killer. Some artists work better when they are in love, that first flush of hormones and thrills. Some artists work better when they are depressed from a break up. Some artists work better with a steady relationship and are completely distracted by either too many highs, or too many lows. I find that either depression or steadiness works best for me. That rush of being in overwhelming lust distracts me, because I’d rather be playing with real people than imaginary ones. *grin* If I were a painter, or used real people as jumping off points for characters I think it would work for me, because I would be able to write and still think obsessively about my beloved. Though sometimes, your love life goes so badly no amount of muse aid can fight their way through the snarling mess of your emotions. So depression only works so well and then it becomes a gloomy wall that you can’t write through. I suppose I prefer a steady relationship. Now steady for me tends to be more passionate and lusty than most. My married friends stopped talking to me long ago about sex in our marriages, because that fire is necessary for me as a person, and as an artist sex is part of what feeds my muse. I’ve never fallen into that long time married slump about sex. I do have to be careful to remember that date night isn’t just about sex, and talking and actually doing other things together is just as important to a long term relationship. One compromise about that first rush of lust that I’ve found works for me is a long distance relationship. I can be in that first flush of lust/dating but I can’t actually do anything about it so I can throw the energy into my writing, but if the object of my affection is at hand then I’d rather be playing for real than on paper. Can you really blame me?

Next up is simply spouses or live-in lovers and how any person that lives with you can impact your ability to write in other ways. Your live-in person is within their rights to want help with the dishes, childcare, and other mundane duties, but all of it can be a muse-killer. Some significant others are better at helping your muse thrive, and some writers are better than others at dealing with domestic interruptions, but rarely are the people you live with neutral to your writing process. I’ll cover that and children in the next part of this blog. For now, today, I need this blog not to become just another invader from Porlock that keeps me from making progress on the current novel.