My Writing "Daemon"

Last year, I came across this video by author Elizabeth Gilbert on nurturing creative "genius." I recommend it for anyone interested in creativity, especially writers, or for anyone who wouldn't mind a little insight into what goes through the minds of creative people at times.

I don't remember most of her talk, but I keep returning to the concept of "genius" that she mentions, one that the ancients and Renaissance artists understood and described. In the former connotation of this word, Ms. Gilbert reminds us, "genius" was akin to an external, mischievous spirit (hence the relationship to the word "genii"). In this sense, creativity was an uncontrollable and unpredictable gift that could be both blessing and tormentor. Yet, what a freeing concept! There was no such thing as "writer's block" or "inspiration" as we think of it today -- that is, something to agonize and wrestle with until you get it to do your bidding with the attendant sense of failure when you can't. If your "genius" didn't visit, she didn't visit. Not really your fault. 

Lately, I've been thinking about this concept when considering the plethora of books and accomplished writers that exist in the world. No matter what I write, I'm always going to feel humbled at the literal genius I experience when I read many authors. Humble and grateful that my own "genii" deigns to visit me on occasion, as long as I put out the welcome mat. Snacks are good too. And some music. My "genii" is demanding.

It occurred to me yesterday that I could borrow from Philip Pullman's His Dark Materials trilogy in thinking about this unpredictable and powerful creature. I'm not comfortable with considering that my soul lives outside my body as they do for the humans in that trilogy (he calls them "daemons"), but I love the idea of having a creative spirit in animal form walking, loping, or flying beside me. I also love the idea of that animal being highly mutable, changing form along with its fickle creative impulses. Yet if I follow the analogy, I suppose my "daemon" has settled into final form even if I don't know what animal it is. 

I rather suspect my "daemon" or "genii" is more like Jonathan Stroud's Bartimaeus than an animal. Devilishly tricky and likely to leave me in the lurch, laughing the whole time.