I don't actually believe in the writing muse. I joke about her, and blame my bad days on her, but I'm not really into sitting yoga-style to conjure a misty angel in opulescent skirts before waxing poetic.
By the time I sit down to write, I've usually plotted my book pretty heavy so I know (or should know) where I'm going. Sort of like doing a major outline with dark purple crayon before filling it in with the lighter lavander.
It doesn't always work, but I think that comes from trying to go in the wrong direction more than anything else.
I tend to procrastinate (a lot, lol) so I think I'd be in bigger trouble if I bought into the whole muse thing. And I'm super susceptible to imagination so it might spill over into other areas of my life.
Cook dinner? No...the muse isn't striking me. Yard work...sorry. No muse. Laundry? Now that would be worth having the wench around for!
I could give her a name, like Mable, and she could wear an apron and have chapped hands from scrubbing toilets. A mustache even...poor Mable. She works her fingers to the bone, and for what??? Minimum wage and no respect...my luck, Mable would quit, leaving me mounds of mythical laundry. No ironed shirts and no muse.
So the muse isn't for me, not really, but I will tell you what motivates me: the next goal. The next deadline - self-imposed or editor-mandated, I work for that great feeling of completing a project.
I know - lame. The make-believe muse is much more fun!