REVIEWS & ARTICLES May 2025
PAST ISSUES: (click on the archive buttons to read previous essays and reviews)
In the April archive button to read the article: “The Art of Editing Fiction, Nonfiction, Poetry, and Poetic Prose”.
In the February archive: “Conversing with Art Through Active Imagination: A Creative Writing Exercise” and “A Brief History of Ekphrastic Writing” with a unique video example by Phil Taggart.
In the January archive: A brief book review of The Hatred of Poetry by Ben Lerner, which I highly recommend reading
ARCHIVE
Mini-Stories, Micro-Poems, & the Literary Challenges of Ai
Mark Waldman
Sometimes the briefest poem and the shortest story can capture depths of emotion that longer literary pieces often fail to do. In our recent gathering of “Writers in the Gallery” participants were given the challenge to capture – in the fewest words possible – the essence of the burnt objects in the “Trans/Formation” exhibit at Studio Channel Islands, which continues through the month of May. The results are featured in the “Poetry & Prose” section of this month’s issue.
Participants were encouraged to use Jung’s Active Imagination strategy by putting themselves into a deep, almost trance-like state of relaxed mindful awareness, and then wandering through the gallery, inviting a specific piece to intuitively call out and speak to them. It was a powerful experience, evoking tears and bringing out surprisingly excellent work, even from those who had little writing experience.
There’s a long history of crafting brief literary works, especially in the world of poetry, and these strategies – especially Haiku – are often used in writing workshops. Historically Haiku emerged from an earlier Japanese tradition called renga (連歌, “linked poetry”) where different poets would collaborate by adding new stanzas to a poem structured around a specific number of syllables. Each stanza contained three lines, with 5 syllables in the first line, 7 in the second, and 5 in the third. The second verse would have two lines, each with 7 syllables. They rarely rhymed and usually focused on nature or a moment of contemplative observation. Here’s the opening excerpt from one of the most famous renga sequences, “Minase Sangin Hyakuin” (Three Poets at Minase), composed in 1488 by three master poets: Sōgi, Shōhaku, and Sōchō. The entire poem has 100 verses:
Verse 1 (Sōgi) – 5-7-5:
In the autumn rain
Water seeping through the roof
Wets my sleeve as well
Verse 2 (Shōhaku) – 7-7:
No place to escape
At the mountain hermitage
Verse 3 (Sōchō) – 5-7-5:
Moonlight filtering
Through gaps in the cypress thatch
Cold upon my mat
Verse 4 (Sōgi) – 7-7:
Frost has settled deep
On the late chrysanthemums
Verse 5 (Shōhaku) – 5-7-5:
Winds from distant peaks
Bring the scent of fallen leaves
Filling the valley
Each verse connects to the previous one while introducing new imagery and slightly shifting the focus. This collaborative approach created poems with greater thematic range than individual compositions could achieve, while the linking requirements demanded both creativity and sensitivity to the contributions of others. Today, variations of collaborative writing in groups is often used in workshops to deepen an individual’s skill in mastering differing elements of prosody: rhythm, cadence, melody, etc.
Renga began as aristocratic entertainment practiced between 794-1185 AD, and reached its artistic peak between 1336-1573. In the 17th Century, Matsuo Bashō (1644-1694) focused on just using the first verse of renga, called “hokku”, turning into what is now called “haiku”. Other brief forms of Japanese poetry include Tanka (developed in the 7th and 8th centuries) and Senryū (emerging in the 18th Century), which focused more on human nature rather than nature and seasons.
Other ancient cultures also developed structured brief poetic forms:
- In 600 BCE, the Chinese Book of Songs contained concise verses, and between 618-907, China developed the “jueju” consisting of four lines with strict tonal patterns.
- Ancient Greece and Rome had epigrams dating back to at least the 7th century BCE. These brief poems were initially inscriptions on monuments but evolved into a literary form emphasizing wit and brevity.
- Sanskrit literature, dating back to at least the 1st millennium BCE, included many four-line verses with specific metrical requirements.
- Middle Eastern traditions developed concise forms such as the ruba’i (quatrain), most famously used by Omar Khayyam, Rumi, and Kafer.
Brevity in Prose & Poetry in the 20th Century
Imagism was a brief but influential poetic movement that emerged around 1912-1917, primarily in London and America. It represented a sharp break from Victorian and Romantic poetry, emphasizing precision, clarity, and the power of the concentrated image. No word should be used that does not contribute directly to the theme, and each word was to be carefully selected, using common speech. Here are several famous examples:
“In a Station of the Metro” by Ezra Pound (1913):
The apparition of these faces in the crowd;
Petals on a wet, black bough.
“The Red Wheelbarrow” by William Carlos Williams (1923):
so much depends
upon
a red wheel
barrow
glazed with rain
water
beside the white
chickens
The Imagists’ focus on compression, clarity, and concrete imagery significantly influenced modern poetry and shares philosophical connections with haiku and other brief poetic forms. Their emphasis on precision and economy of language established principles that continue to remain central to contemporary poetry.
Micropoetry emerged in the late 1990s and has been attributed the popularity of social media platforms, particularly with Twitter’s launch in 2006. The platform’s original 140-character limit (later expanded to 280) created a natural environment for extremely concise poetry.
Flash Fiction gained prominence in the 1990s and is used to describe stories under 1000 words, and its roots stretch back to ancient forms like fables and parables. The 19th century saw authors like Poe and Chekhov experimenting with brevity, and today it continues to be a popular form represented in many anthologies.
Microfiction typically refers to even shorter narratives, often under 300 words. Its conscious use as a literary technique gained traction in the late 20th century, with anthologies dedicated to these concise forms.
The 100-Word Story
The 100-Word Story gained popularity in the early 21st Century, challenging writers to create a complete narrative arc within exactly 100 words, demanding precision and impactful language. The term “drabble” also refers to a 100-word story, originating from a Monty Python game. Today there are many online challenges and competitions. Here is the 2nd place winner of the 2024 100-word Microfiction Challenge 2024 put on by https://www.nycmidnight.com/ :
Step One: Remove the Stem
by Rachel Henderson (100 words)
Carved myself another man today.
Handsomest yet – moon eyes and buttonhole nostrils – crooked, licorice-whip grin. Toothless. Perfect for kisses.
The kitchen is a wreck. Pulpy mounds and splatter everywhere. Didn’t lay down enough newspaper this time – I was too eager to meet my scooped-out guy, couldn’t wait to run my fingers across his slick skin, light a candle behind his mouth.
Christ, is he handsome now.
They’re always better hollow. He’ll slough and slip eventually, like the others. Reek. But I’ll love him anyway, because I carved this man and made him sweet.
Sweet and, finally, silent.
Rachel Henderson lives in New Orleans, where she spends her free time writing horror fiction and playing bagpipes.
The 6-Word Story
The 6-Word Story also became popular in the early 21st Century, but was falsely attributed Ernest Hemingway (“For sale: baby shoes, never worn.”) The inspiration grew out of a late 19th Century advertisement offering a baby crib for sale, never used. In 2006 SMITH Magazine launched the “Six-Word Memoir” project, inviting people to submit their life stories in exactly six words. This initiative generated tremendous interest, leading to several published collections including Not Quite What I Was Planning: Six-Word Memoirs by Writers Famous and Obscure in 2008.
The Mediocre Poetry of Artificial Intelligence
Many of us who are actively involved with “Writers in the Gallery” and “Poetry in the Gallery” (hosted by Sean Colletti) have taken a great interest in the strengths and weaknesses of using different ai platforms for writing. I once used it to create a summary of the new field of network neuroscience for a book I was developing, and it did a better job than I could have done. It was clear and concise but it also “hallucinated”, making up things that didn’t even exist in the academic literature, so one has to literally be an expert in the field and to also double-check the accuracy of every sentence. Still, I and many of my colleagues have created excellent essays and blogs using ai’s contribution as a starting point. Even this article includes many sentences written by ai.
But when it comes to poetry, fiction, and other forms of literature, profound mediocrity is often the result and most writers can quickly identify the source. There are, however, rare exceptions. I once asked ai to write a Haiku about zombies. Of the dozens it generated, there was one I very much enjoyed:
Zombie in the night,
Shambling through the moonlit streets,
Hunger never sates.
Here’s what Google’s Gemini ai generated when I asked it to offer tips for writing micro-stories:
Precision and economy are the keys. Focus on a single moment, character, emotion, compelling image, or idea. Select vivid, evocative words that perform multiple functions. Begin with a draft that exceeds 100 words, then ruthlessly edit, removing anything nonessential. Use implied information—what’s unsaid often carries weight. Consider unexpected endings that reframe the story. Vary the structure of the sentences for impact, and remember that punctuation and structure create rhythm in minimal space. Every syllable counts.
Then I asked it to create a poem out of the above information:
To birth a hundred worlds with words so few
Ditch the well-worn path, the tired view.
Seek connections where the strange takes root –
A whispered secret, unexpected fruit.
Where images collide and vibrantly clash,
A sudden scent, a memory’s sharp flash.
Each word a brushstroke, so keenly placed,
Concise the rhythm, strongly embraced.
Uncommon words that twist and gleam,
Like something sacred in a darkened dream.
Pruned with care, where essence stands alone,
A tiny cosmos, utterly your own.
Finally, I asked Gemini ai to give advice written in the style of e.e. cummings:
little word-blooms
sprout quick
don’t
choke
with big thoughts
break lines
like broken wings
let white space
sing
(no need
for
all
the
rules)
just feel it
small & true
a|
glimpse
a
wink
a
sudden
blue
I will leave it to you to evaluate the quality of these pieces, but it raises many questions, like this one: Will ai be able to “improve” on its ability to create higher quality works? But what about a reader who is beginning to read poetry? Will they have the skill to discern the difference between a great and mediocre poem? I don’t think so, and that is a concern that every writer must find a way to address.