Using Creative Writing in the EFL Classroom
Writing in any language is one of the most difficult
skills to acquire, particularly in a second-language (L2). For teachers,
it is time-consuming, both to prepare and assess. For these reasons, it is
often one of the most ignored skills in an EFL classroom. When writing is
taught to L2 learners, as Stephen Davies discusses in English Teaching
Forum, it is generally restricted to “fill-in-the-blank exercises
which focus on accuracy rather than the composing process."1 This type
of accuracy, as Davies notes, is certainly desirable in many
instances. But creative writing—which focuses on communication and
self-expression—carries many other benefits. What are these benefits?
And are there other compelling reasons to include creative writing as part
of an EFL curriculum? In this paper I will explore these questions,
providing both a theoretical context and real-life examples from my own
classroom.
A definition of creative writing
In many obvious but important ways, creative writing is
linked to literary studies in that it involves learning techniques such as
characterization, foreshadowing, symbolism, etc. But while the purpose of
literary studies is to understand the work of others, the purpose of
creative writing is to create one’s own work.
What, exactly, is that work? My definition is simple and
deliberately broad: creative writing is any writing whose primary aims are
to tell a story, express or elicit an emotion, or both.
I could certainly add more—for example, that its
central mode is primarily metaphoric—but it would not define the term
any more clearly. The above definition also implicitly states what
creative writing is not: something concerned with an unemotional telling
of facts, such as business writing, scientific reports, and most
journalism. Even writing that tells a story and elicits an emotional
response is not creative writing if its primary aims are different (such
as advertising, which always hopes to sell something). To be sure,
creative writing includes what you would expect—fiction, poetry, essays,
and drama—but it also includes works as disparate as letters, diaries,
speeches, transcribed oral histories, and even some journalism (that which
is commonly called “magazine style”).
Thinking of it in this way allows us to see creative
writing not as the work of a few talented specialists but as the
inevitable result of a natural human need to communicate—a need which,
while natural, also has its own “rules” that make some writing more
entertaining, convincing, or emotionally affective than others.
Reasons to teach creative writing in an EFL class
In “Seven Reasons Why Children Should Write
Stories”—which, it must be noted, applies to any kind of creative
writing—Gail Tompkins states the following reasons to write:
1. to entertain
2. to foster artistic expression
3. to explore the functions and values of writing
4. to stimulate imagination
5. to clarify thinking
6. to search for identity
7. to learn to read and write2
It should be clear that all of these are excellent
reasons to teach creative writing, but I would like to add the following
reasons why it is especially appropriate in an EFL classroom:
1. you are probably using it already
2. it is an excellent way to incorporate writing,
reading, speaking, and listening skills together
3. critical thinking is built into it
4. it is an opportunity to teach cultural lessons
5. it provides a chance to do something perceived as
“fun” while still requiring a lot of work from your students
I now want to look at each of the reasons more closely,
for this will also allow me to outline more clearly how creative writing
may be incorporated into the classroom.
You are probably using creative writing already
A common assignment in an EFL class is to have students
write dialogues together. Journals are another commonly used tool. Both
are examples of creative writing. With a little imagination, it is easy to
see how these may be consciously incorporated into a larger and
well-designed unit. For example, while a dialogue itself is not a complete
work, it is a building block in larger works; stories, essays, and poems
(among others) all utilize dialogue.
By my definition, creative writing includes not only the
usual stories, essays, and poems but also works such as folktales,
character sketches, and song lyrics, all commonly used in EFL classrooms.
Any time you utilize these, you open the possibility of having your
students attempt to create their own examples.
Creative writing incorporates writing, reading,
speaking, and listening skills together
This may not be readily apparent on the surface, but in
particular it relates to my beliefs on how creative writing should be
taught. While certain important literary figures have eloquently stated
there is no need to combine reading with writing (poet Richard Hugo
perhaps foremost among them), I believe it is necessary, perhaps even
essential in the early stages of writing acquisition, particularly for L2
learners. Reading the work of others not only provides good models to
learn from, even imitate, it can help enrich vocabulary by providing new
words in a meaningful context, and it stimulates thinking and discussion.
But even if you choose not to introduce a writing
exercise by reading published material, it is still good practice to have
your students learn to read from their own works. This can be a painful
experience for some of them, and as teachers we should be sensitive to
this. However, I have found that, as in many other cases in the classroom,
modeling the desired behavior makes a tremendous positive impact. Students
are invariably more willing to read their own work after I read mine (I
always try to do the exercises with them or at least bring previously
written material with me). Thus writing, reading, speaking, and listening
are all linked by a single activity.
Critical thinking is built into creative writing
Critical thinking is a process by which disparate facts
are consumed, analyzed, evaluated, rejected or assimilated, and
ultimately, if the latter, applied in some way. It is focused on
exploration, not finding definitive answers, and it thus forms the basis
for all higher learning. Unfortunately, most learning involves lower-order
thinking such as rote memorization of facts, and this is what students are
accustomed to. Such lower-order thinking has its evident value in
providing the base for higher-order thinking. However, learning must go
beyond that for humans, and human knowledge, to grow.
Creative writing forces students to think in ways they
are not accustomed to thinking. There are no ready-made answers to the
questions, “What should my character say in this situation?” or
“What rhymes with rose but conveys a feeling of sadness?” Students
must ponder the problem, search not only their mental warehouses of facts
but also their imaginations, and with all their skill and bravery commit
to an act of creation: putting words to paper.
Creative writing provides an opportunity to teach
cultural lessons
Writing does not exist apart from culture. The
individual forms of writing all have their own unique beginnings and
history; thus a unit on sonnets naturally should include a lesson on its
development from Renaissance Italy to Shakespeare’s England to today.
And it is almost impossible to teach a lesson on haiku, a Japanese poetic
form, without a cultural lesson on Japan.
I have found that students in Kazakhstan are used to and
thus heavily favor traditional Russian poetry, which rhymes, has meter, is
written on special themes (nature, patriotism, love, etc.), and utilizes a
special poetic language. Haiku, however, has none of these qualities, and
so students sometimes resist it. Yet it is more than 500 years old (with
roots even older) and is considered the definitive form of Japanese
poetry. Why? How does the simplicity of its style reflect the Zen
philosophy so influential in Japan? What does it say about the nature of
its people? Exploring these questions offers not only excellent
sociological and historical lessons, it can lead to many interesting
discussions as well.
Creative writing provides a chance to do something
perceived as “fun” while still requiring a lot of work from your
students
Many students are initially afraid of any kind of
assignment that involves the word “creative,” certain that the word
does not describe them. This can even lead to outright resistance. But
completing one creative writing assignment often quickly disabuses them of
those feelings. Students often cite creative writing as the most enjoyable
part of my classes. But any writer can tell you that writing requires a
lot of work, and this is especially true for most L2 learners. The
difference is that the skills they learn and exercise through creative
writing are often absorbed and exhibited unconsciously. Students learn
without always knowing that they are learning, but the repetition demanded
by good writing practice ensures that the learning is deep.
To summarize, in analyzing the work of others, a writer
then learns the tools of his or her trade. Like any occupation, it
requires practice. The best writers write a lot, often every day, though
there is certainly no formula or magical word limit guaranteeing success.
I can, however, offer this simple acronym: RAW (read, analyze, and write).
1. Read—anything. I personally believe that
students learn more by reading from the best models, though it is, of
course, important to choose quality readings appropriate to your class’s
language level.
2. Analyze—the work of
others and their own work. In fact, analyzing the work of others will help
students better analyze their own work. Teachers should provide the
guidelines, encouragement, and space in which to practice.
3. Write—writing begins in
the imagination, but it is also product-driven (that is, an action aimed
at producing a physical artifact), a process of vision and revision. In
other words, writers must be dreamers and doers, artists and craftsmen.
Two classroom examples
I would like to look closely at two different exercises
in order to better illustrates my main points. Both were taught here in
Kazakhstan.
The first was to have my students each find a rock then
write about how their rocks were like their mothers. I took care not to
explain the assignment before the students choose their rocks; I wanted
their choices to be made unconsciously. Once back in class, this exercise
required pre-teaching the following terms: similes, metaphors, dead
metaphors, worn-out metaphors (clichés), mixed metaphors,
personification, and sensory description (description related to the five
senses of sight, sound, touch, taste, and smell).
Next I had my students brainstorm ideas about their
rocks using sensory description. We created lists of words and phrases on
the blackboard under five headings, one for each sense. Only then did I
tell my students what the exercise was. Initially they resisted.
“How can we compare our mothers to something as rude
as stones?” they asked. Their resistance only strengthened my belief
that this exercise would stretch their minds in new ways, help them make
connections they never would have previously considered. They did.
Not surprisingly, the connections they made were highly
individual. One student wrote, “The velvet surface of the rock [is] like
my mother’s tender and velvet skin. The odour of the stone is fresh and
clean. My mom smells the same. When I touch this stone I feel warmth. It
is like my mother’s hands: warm and tender.” Another described her
stone as “small, oval, and warm, because I held it in my hands. While I
was holding it I remembered how in my childhood my Mom used to hold me
like that when I was afraid.” A third student noted that her stone’s
red and white colors represent “my mother’s mood which always changes:
red-hot, white-calm.”
The above examples all came from homework assignments,
but one student, in the space of the few minutes we had left of class
time, was able to compose a complete poem:
My mother like this stone
Will never be alone.
She has friends, a lot,
Like this stone has many spots.
Sometimes she’s strict like stone
Sometimes she’s kind in tone.
The second assignment involved writing haikus as a
group. A haiku is a three-line poem based on syllables, its three lines
alternating between five, seven, and five syllables. Additionally, the lines
together should do three things: 1. present a clear physical picture, 2.
create a distinct emotion, and 3. end by suggesting a “spiritual”
insight, or a moment when the meaning of the poem suddenly becomes clear.
The first class I taught this to was not my strongest
class, and predictably they resisted the assignment. I persisted and asked
them what they wanted their haiku to be about. “First bell,” they
answered. “Good,” I said, “now we need a clear physical picture,”
and after several attempts we agreed on this first line: “Pupils in
black and white.” Next we wanted to create a distinct emotion. “What
do these pupils feel like?” I asked. “Scared,” my students
responded. “It’s not poetically interesting to write ‘They felt
scared,’” I told them. “What are they scared of?” “Getting bad
marks,” came the answer. That led to the next line, “unknowing of the
future.” Finally, we needed to make the meaning of the poem clear. I
tried to get them to think concretely by telling me again what first bell
looked like, what exactly the children were doing. They were giving
presents to their teachers, I was told. I asked why. In the hopes that
their teachers will be nice to them. Suddenly a line someone had suggested
earlier came back, and the poem was finished:
Pupils in black and white
unknowing of the future
flowers in their hands.
When we read this poem out loud, it was clear that it
conveys a clear picture, distinct emotion, and “spiritual” insight.
Not only that, it does all these things in a subtle, complex, and
beautiful way. It is a portrait of first bell that anyone in Kazakhstan
can recognize without ever using the words “first bell,” “first day
of school,” or even “school,” and it captures all the day’s
anxiousness and expectation without using those words, either. But in the
end the stark (“black and white”) uncertainly of the pupils gives way
to the colorful hope of the flowers in their hands. In this case, the
students not only completed an assignment. They created art.
Some additional guidelines
To be an effective teacher of creative writing, you must
unreservedly believe in the inherent talent in all your students—that
is, you must be essentially democratic. Thus my most basic assumption is
that good writing is not the result of genius (though that can help) but
rather continual practice, and that its effects, when properly analyzed
and understood, can be used by all of us to a greater effect.
But while you should treat your students with respect,
they in turn should respect you and the classroom. To help ensure that
restlessness or—worse—outright boredom does not break out, I recommend
the following:
1. Set the ground rules. Students, at least
in the United States, sometimes interpret creative writing to mean
“anything goes,” but I personally do not allow my students to write
anything overtly pornographic, violent, or derogatory to any gender,
religion, race, etc. Due to different cultural expectations, this has not
been an issue in my classes in Kazakhstan. Still, make it clear from the
beginning what you expect in order to avoid getting the unexpected.
2. Make your assignments specific.
Even with creative writing, I recommend always assigning a minimum page
limit. In poetry it can even be useful to recommended a minimum line
limit. I have found that students prefer to have something to aim for. It
also gives you as teacher a basis for objective grading. For example, the
assignment “write a dialogue” is broad and unimaginative. But the
assignment “write a three-page dialogue between two characters focusing
on a conflict that is never directly mentioned” not only teaches the
students about the character motives that drive dialogue, it provide a
basis for objective grading.
3. Try to combine reading with your writing assignments.
Students often feel intimidated by writing, and providing a model to
follow gives them something concrete to begin from. It also provides the
teacher with an opportunity not only to teach technical aspects of writing
but cultural or other lessons as well. Concerning the example above,
Ernest Hemingway’s “Hills Like White Elephants” makes a perfect
pre-writing reading assignment. This story also lends itself well to a
discussion on gender roles.
