I Want to Write Like That!
Have you ever read a story and thought, Wow! I wish I’d come up with that…
Or gotten inspired by a rush of creative motivation? I want to write like that!
I read a lot of flash and microfiction—stories that can be read in just a few minutes—but I can’t always digest the stories that quickly. I am drawn to short prose that invites me to read a piece over and over, often allowing for multiple—or deepening—interpretations. I want to write like that!
Where once I may have felt envy at another writer’s talent and imagination, I now glean inspiration from such stories; they remind me of the endless flexibility of fiction and urge me to boost my own creativity so I can come up with something just as clever, profound, or inventive.
A recent favorite story of mine is “A Contented Sun Rises” by Joe Artz. I love this piece for many reasons: the originality, the specific details, and the way I am immersed immediately into the strange little world Joe has created. I can visualize it, feel it. I want to write like that!
I will admit that I’m somewhat biased because Joe is a friend of mine, but the story was a finalist in Cleaver’s 2022 flash fiction contest, so I’m clearly not alone in my assessment. And having previously been in a writing group with Joe, I know that this story is not an outlier; Joe has an uncanny knack for regularly creating intriguing literary worlds.
Other recent stories I’ve read that pulled me in, prompting me to read them several times, include these two micros: “E.T.” by Linda Lowe and “Mother Knows Best” by Cheryl Snell. When I read a story that gets my brain’s synapses firing with excitement, I’m compelled to write. Story ideas come flooding in.
In short, creativity begets more creativity.
I’ve studied the subject of creativity quite a bit, first approaching it—and even writing a blog post about it—in 2019 when I was working on the critical-essay aspect of my MFA graduation requirements. I know that creativity can be developed, honed, and improved upon over time. The question one may ask is how?
The answer will be different for everybody, of course, but I’ve found that there’s actually a lot to learn—about both creativity and writing—from magnetic poetry.
Magnetic Poetry
In high school (and into college), my friends and I frequented Borders Books (remember them?). Borders had everything: a coffee shop, live music on the weekends, and, of course, books!
They also had magnetic poetry, which I was a bit obsessed with.
Magnetic poetry might not seem like such a novelty now, but circa 1994, it was (at least for me). (I read recently that magnetic poetry first appeared in 1993, but I wasn’t able to verify that.) At Borders, they had the poetry out so that you could “play” with it, and there was also a book of poems written with magnetic poetry that you could look through. As someone who fancied herself a budding writer, I wanted my own set. But the sets were kind of pricey, particularly for a high school/college kid with meager income/savings.
A few years later, though, a poet/musician boyfriend and I bought a set of magnetic poetry together—to share. We divided the set up so that we each had an even number of words, and then we’d sit for hours at this coffeehouse called Picasso’s, drinking coffee and/or tea and writing (both with and without the aid of magnetic poetry).
Twenty-five years later and I still have that magnetic poetry set (I think the boyfriend eventually gave me his share, too). I’ve since bought a couple of other set variations as well, including a dog lovers’ version.
Much as I do when I read a compelling story, I feel a surge of excitement when I rearrange the word magnets on my refrigerator to create something strange, new, different. Creative.
Lessons from Magnetic Poetry
1. Constraint Can Heighten Creativity
Many who know me (and my writing) know that I thrive on certain writing constraints, e.g., Write a story in exactly 50 words, or exactly 100 words.
With its limited word options, magnetic poetry offered me one of my earliest creative writing constraints.
Research heavily supports the idea of constraints aiding creativity. In a Harvard Business Review article called “Why Constraints Are Good for Innovation,” the authors write, “Constraints can foster innovation when they represent a motivating challenge and focus efforts on a more narrowly defined way forward.” While the article is talking about business-related innovation, the tenets can apply to writing as well (and not just creative writing).
Another article, “How Constraints Force Your Brain to Be More Creative,” discusses how constraints allow you alternate perspectives. Doing something because it’s familiar or because that’s the way you’ve always done it is akin to following the path of least resistance, which research shows can impede creativity. With my own writing, the more I rejected “convention,” the more comfortable I felt in my writing voice. I began to trust my creative instincts. And from there, my writing really began to evolve; I felt freer and more imaginative.
Yet another article further posits that barriers can “lead to breakthroughs.” Often when I revisit a story that I’ve put away because it’s just not working, I implement barriers of some sort in an effort to revive it. For example, I have a 20-page story from about eight years ago that I’m working on making a flash piece, as it’s a core story for the flash-fiction collection I’m working on. The story doesn’t work as a long story, and I’ve known that for years. Drastically editing it enthralls me, partly because it’s a problem that needs to be solved creatively. I am motivated by this challenge, excited by it!
Writers, of course, have long been experimenting with constraints. Perhaps you’ve heard of Gadsby, the 1939 novel by Ernest Vincent Wright that does not include any words using the letter e.
And in his bestselling book (which I highly recommend) A Swim in a Pond in the Rain: In Which Four Russians Give a Master Class on Writing, Reading, and Life, George Saunders has an exercise in which he challenges readers to write a (precisely) 200-word story using only 50 different words. Saunders writes how this exercise—which he uses with his students—“shuts down that way of thinking [how we should write] by keeping [the mind] busy with the practicalities of the exercise, which leaves the rest of the mind asking, ‘Well, what else have we got?’ That is: ‘What other writers might be in here?’” (p. 402)
In some ways, being confined to 50 words isn’t all that different than using magnetic poetry.
2. Unique Word Combinations Abound
At its core, creative writing is about expression—about creative expression. But one of the challenges is finding fresh and original ways to express one’s thoughts and ideas. This is one of the reasons that beginning writers are often told to avoid cliches. (“Avoid cliches” is actually misleading advice, but that’s a whole different rabbit hole.)
Word Pairing Exercise
Try this. Make a list of adjectives.
e.g., red, lovely, startling, crazy, damp, stingy, brazen, wicked, melancholy
Now make a list of nouns.
e.g., truck, doll, dog, locomotive, cape, box, summer, breeze, giggle
Connect one of your adjectives to a noun in an unexpected, original pairing.
e.g., a startling summer, a stingy breeze
Or add to your lists and mix and match.
e.g., a startling summer breeze, a stingy summer breeze, a red giggle, a melancholy giggle
It doesn’t matter if the phrase is logical or not. The idea is to spark your imagination, get the creative juices flowing.
In April, I attended the 2023 Midwest Literary Walk in Chelsea, Michigan. I wrote down a few lines that especially interested me as the authors read; poet Tyehimba Jess used this phrase: “like rain on blue prayers.” Author/musician Kristin Hersh used this one: “scribble my fingers across the strings.” Both phrases are fresh and exciting to me, even after I’ve read them multiple times.
In this Substack post, author Kathryn Kulpa writes about how just a few words, phrases, or interesting pairings can inspire longer pieces.
3. An Extensive Vocabulary Is Not Essential
Having a robust vocabulary can certainly be beneficial to a writer, but it is not a requirement for creating profound and innovative work. The words in a magnetic poetry set aren’t generally difficult words; they certainly won’t help you prepare for the GRE.
Much of the creative work I read and enjoy doesn’t use fancy obscure words. It’s more about how the words work together, how they create tone or a distinct voice. Being cognizant about word choice and being curious about language are key skills for a writer, and this is something that magnetic poetry can highlight.
My tenth-grade English teacher bombarded us with a lot of rules for our (academic) writing. I recall that for at least one essay we had to label each sentence as either simple, complex, compound, or compound-complex. The exercise had several goals. It helped ensure, first, that we didn’t have fragments or run-on sentences, but it was also meant to draw our attention to sentence structure variety. That is to say, the teacher would require a certain number of each type of sentence, e.g., at least one compound-complex sentence.
For almost every essay, my teacher also had us do a le mot juste exercise. We only had to show our work for one word, but I’m sure it was her hope that we paid close attention to word choice throughout. For one particular word in the essay, we had to show that we had looked up several word choices and then write a short explanation as to why we picked the word we did—why it was the most appropriate word for the context. Le mot juste. (Additionally, we were never allowed to use the words people or thing(s) in our essays.) Her rules forced us to write more precisely, more specifically. Perhaps I learned some new vocabulary in the process, too, but that wasn’t necessarily the point of the exercise; the exercise was more focused on connotation and appropriateness.
I have a collection of poems that were written (by various writers) using magnetic poetry. Some of the poems are funny. Some are deep. Most all of them are interesting. Even with every poet in that book using the same selection of words, the voices and styles are unique, distinct.
Rather than a specific prompt, I leave you with a call to action of sorts. Find ways to implement constraints in your writing, and observe what happens. Do you find it helpful to the creative process?
This is the third time I read your post - you offer so much insight here, Jessica!
The writers I most wish I could emulate are Barbara Brown Taylor and Becca Stevens. They have such a natural way of sharing deep spiritual ideas, with good stories to support their thoughts.
I love your idea and agree that creativity can be enhanced by constraints. Limited word counts help me to find the essentials in my writing. I have also been trying poetry, and feel much like a novice, but the attempts then inspire other writing. At one time I also had magnetic words, but never really experimented with them. I may need to purchase a new set!
Thank you always for your helpful and motivating words.