How To Write Palatable, Praise-Worthy Trash For MFA Programs

Have you ever wanted to write prose worthy of being accepted into a MFA program? Do you lack the skill to engage in meaningful reflection, but want to write a book perfect for Apple users and Target shoppers?

Then congratulations! You are spiritually aligned with an entire subgenre of contemporary literature where trauma is stylized, philosophy is truncated to an Instagram caption, and suffering is praised for its aesthetics (be vulnerable, but not too vulnerable! we can't expect much from our readers).

In this guide, I will walk you through a formula for writing prose that belongs in this literary subculture. Don't worry - it won't take too much effort. We just need to lobotomize both ourselves and our readers; your writing will ascend in acclaim the more you master the art of covert pretentiousness.

Pick Something Mundane And Perceive It Closely

First, you need to pick a thing or location and describe it vividly. Your sentences must be short, borderline fragmented, or otherwise you risk your reader using the full capacity of their brain.

Your subject must be boring in the most aesthetically dangerous way possible. Consider, for example, a grocery aisle. But even this enters the realm of cognitive demand, so let's pick something that appeals to recency bias: a cup.

Oregon nights are beautiful. The moon illuminates the dark night, breathing life into silent forests, with her quiet glow. I hold my cup and feel its warmth. For a moment, I am whole.

Wonderful! You've written the start to a prize-winning MFA piece. Nothing in the sentence actually means anything, but the reader will assume profundity because you never risked clarity.

Assign A Higher Meaning To The Mundane

But wait. How will our story about a cup move the story forward? How can we curate our suffering into an aesthetic that Target shoppers would adore?

Well, it's quite simple!

Using fragmented thoughts, gesture towards trauma, abandonment, or grief. But only briefly with less than 14 words, otherwise your prose becomes overwrought.

Oregon nights are beautiful. The moon illuminates the dark night, breathing life into silent forests with her quiet glow. I hold my cup and feel its warmth. For a moment, I am whole.

The cup cools in my hand. I think of him.

Perfect! You've transformed caffeine into grief, worthy of being read in every Starbucks lounge.

And that's the trick: you never say who he is. It could be your ex, it could be your dad, it could be God. It doesn't matter. All that matters is that the cup cooled, and you felt something.

Congrats, your object is emotionally charged, spiritually suggestive, and totally devoid of narrative weight.

That's the formula! Just repeat this for everything you write.

Advanced Technique: Relate The Mundane To Something Abstract

Now that you are now capable of writing prose worthy of being quoted in a literary circlejerk, in less than five minutes, it is time for you to learn an advanced technique.

Pick an abstract, vague thing and somehow connect every mundane object to it.

For example, we might start our book like this:

Suppose I were to begin by saying that I had fallen in love with a color.

Excellent! This is how you immediately signal:

  1. You're fragile in a curated, aesthetic way
  2. Your metaphors will be emotionally overdetermined but narratively underdeveloped
  3. You will be conflating symbolic abstraction and actual pain for the next 240 paragraphs

Now that you picked your abstract stand-in (a longing, a winter, a hunger, a color, pick anything vague!), it's time for the sacred ritual of repetition-as-meaning.

You are not writing a story. You are meditating, but only in the Instagram Reels sense of the word.

Every moon is blue.

Every cup is blue.

Every failed relationship becomes blue.

Your family dying becomes blue, because the real deal is too much for our readers.

And when the reader is finally towards the end of the book, you reward them with something pretentious:

Blue has no arms.

You will be called brave.

You will be praised for your precision.

You will be invited to read your story at an indie bookstore while someone weeps into an overpriced blended coffee.

Additional Tips

  1. About every two chapters, quote a philosopher and engage with their idea superficially. The reader will be amazed at how intelligent you are.
  2. Avoid picking the color blue. That color has been put to death.
  3. Use a circular structure to sound profound. If your story started with visiting your mom's warm home, end the story by visiting your mom's grave.
  4. You must have a distinct voice, but just barely. If the admissions committee can't trace your influences, then they don't know what to do with you. Just copy Maggie Nelson or something but with a twist.