Words are the basic units of storytelling. We put them together to form sentences. See? I just created three, right there. Boom. Easy. Thank you and good night.

Knocking out thousands of words to get your reader from Plot Point A to Plot Point B is the equivalent of travelling in a straight line at high speed. With a rudimentary grasp of the basics, anyone can do it.

But what if you want to write something more crafted, more beautiful, or more clever? Something that transcends everyday language and which might catch a cynical submission editor's eye? Then pull up a chair, because I've got three linguistic experiments for you.

Experiment with person and tense

Let's start off with an easy one. Pick a random novel off a shelf. Chances are it is written in the third person, past tense — "Jack crept down the dark hallway." It might be written in the third person, present tense — "Jacinda tiptoes up the creaky stairs." Or the first person, past — "I ran through the mall knocking down kids and old timers like skittles." Or even the first person, present — "I crawl along the bloodstained carpet."

These four variations are the most common combinations of person and tense. And with good reason — they're accessible.

To torture my driving analogy, these person/tense combinations put the reader firmly in the passenger seat and help them enjoy the ride.

Conventional writing wisdom tells us that no single combination is better than any other; there's just writer / reader preference. But once we've found our preference, our voice, it's easy to get stuck in a rut.

So, technique one is simple — experiment with person and tense. If you always write in first, swap to third. And vice versa. Or — crazy idea — why not try writing in the second person? "You edge around the door and see the doctor medically removing the audience's preconceptions…" Second-person present is particularly common in multi-path stories. Remember reading Choose Your Own Adventures as a kid? Well, there are interactive markets out there for adults, too.

And if that feels too comfortable, why not push things further and try the second person, future? "You will edge around the door…"

But why stop there? If you are writing speculative fiction and your protagonist is an alien, maybe they have a different sense of 'self' or 'other' than human language can easily express.

Try "Me walks," "Them scurry," "Us thinking," to create dissonance whilst keeping your writing broadly accessible.

Even if you revert to the second person, past or first person, present, you will have broadened your experience of writing different perspectives, and that can only be a good thing.

Experiment with constrained writing

Imagine an artwork that goes on and on and on. It covers the walls and the ceilings and the floor and even the windows. The artwork is limitless. It has no end. Where do we look? What do we notice? What is the painter trying to tell us, dammit? Now imagine a painting in an art gallery. All the walls are matt white. The painting is small. It is constrained by its frame. The artist had to choose what to make the focal point of the piece and concentrate all their effort on realising it. This is the same idea at work in constrained writing.

The poets amongst you will be familiar with constrained writing. Poetry is full of constraints: iambic pentameter, dactylic hexameter, Sapphic stanza, sonnet, limerick, haiku — all these forms have their own rules.

Rigid rules and forms may seem counter-intuitive to novelists and short story writers, but by creating restrictions and slowing down the writing pace, you can actually stimulate creative thinking.

Analogy alert! It's like driving in a straight line, but only now you're doing it in reverse. There's a mirroring process at play and your brain has to work harder.

There are several different types of constrained writing and I'll describe three for you to try.

Write in English-Prime

English-Prime, or E-Prime as it is also known, is a form of controlled language which excludes the verb 'to be' and all of its conjugations and contractions (be, is, am, are, was, were, been, and being). Proponents argue that writing or editing in E-Prime can clarify thinking and strengthen writing. The phrase "Jack's face is wrinkly" becomes "The years have etched themselves on Jack's face. Each wrinkle hints at hardship," in E-Prime.

Take a piece you have already written and edit it into E-Prime. You will find it interesting and frustrating, but your writing muscles will thank you for the challenge. When you have finished, check your work here: E-Prime Checker

Use no word more than once

Take the 'avoid repetition' rule to extremes and use no word more than once. This is a great technique for writers of flash fiction. The more you write, the harder it becomes and the more you have to concentrate to ensure your prose doesn't descend into gibberish.

Write entirely without verbs

This technique flies in the face of the "use strong verbs" rule, but it can be done. In 2004, a French author, writing under the name Michel Thaler, published a 233-page novel, Le Train de Nulle Part, which contained no verbs. He is quoted as saying, "Take away the verbs and the language speaks for itself." Try it and see if you agree.

Experiment with non-standard English

Conventional wisdom warns us against using too much dialect in our writing. However, what if you turn this advice on its head? Many famous literary works owe their enduring appeal to non-standard English: Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain, A Clockwork Orange by Anthony Burgess, The Color Purple by Alice Walker, The Commitments by Roddy Doyle… the list goes on.

The link between language and identity is complex.

Our vocabulary, accent and register can reflect where we grew up, our education, our work, our communities and our social identities. A housewife may speak differently from a dockworker… But there is an additional layer to explore here.

In sociolinguistics, code-switching occurs when a speaker changes from one linguistic code — a language, dialect or linguistic variety — to another, depending on the social context or conversational setting. I remember listening to my mother on the phone and being confused and angry about how fake-posh she sounded talking to someone "socially superior", like the doctor or the bank manager. Should we be ashamed of our working-class accent? I wondered. The answer was, of course, no, but I wouldn't learn that for many years.

Barack Obama is a master at code-switching. Listen to footage of him speaking to different audiences and hear how his vocabulary, rhythm and register shift depending on who he is addressing. These shifts are natural. They're normal.

Explore these subtle shifts and differences during your character development. Show the reader how uncomfortable your teenage protagonist feels speaking to the Principal through changes in his speech patterns. Show how good the cop is at reading people by the way she shifts linguistic gears when speaking to a perp, a victim, or her boss.

Become a master code-switcher like Barack and your characters — and your readers — will thank you.

Try writing in Anglish

Remember I mentioned King Harold II in the title? Well, here he is, finally. If Harold had beaten William the Conqueror at Hastings in 1066, English might have evolved very differently and some people have imagined what it might look and sound like. The answer was "Anglish", a form of English linguistic purism that favours native or Germanic vocabulary over loanwords, particularly those derived from French, Latin and Greek.

It's a re-imagining of the language which asks, "What might we be speaking and writing today if the Norman conquest of England in 1066 had never happened?"

This rich linguistic seam is just waiting to be tapped, with a little work and a good wordbook or dictionary. The vocabulary is beautiful and startling, familiar and yet alien. Instead of "coast", you might encounter "searim." "Telescope" becomes "farlooker." Familiar ideas are recast using Germanic roots and revived or newly coined words. This is a great technique for fantasy writers, and those writing historical re-imaginings.

Try writing in Scots

Fool around with the mysterious cousin of stuffy, formal English! Scots — the language of Robert Burns — is to English what Norwegian is to Danish. They share a common ancestor, but they have evolved to be very different languages. In 2017, Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone was translated into Scots and the result is simply fabulous. Get yourself a copy and you will fall in love with this language, and the characters, anew.

But, if ye dinnae speak Scots, dinnae fash yersel aboot it. Maist Sassenach wull be able tae figure it oot, mibbie wi' hulp fae an online translator.

It may feel "old fashioned" at first — and reading Harry Potter will certainly help dispel that notion — but Scots is a modern, living language. It can lend itself to post-apocalyptic works, where, thanks to climate change or nuclear disaster, the Highlands are all that's left of Great Britain, for example. Or a Space Opera populated with Scottish astronauts… You are only constrained by your own imagination.

If you are not familiar with them, then writing in Anglish, or Scots, or Newspeak, or a Creole language is the equivalent of driving a classic car backwards through an obstacle course. It certainly won't be a high-octane drag race. And you might be asking yourself, "what's the point?"

As with all experiments, the objectives are to learn, to discover, to expand our understanding. Couple that with the self-expression gifted to us by writing and you have a powerful formula for that most alchemical ideal — art.

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