I’ve mentioned before that I’m friends with quite a few artists. Lately, I’ve seen quite a few of them share thoughts about artificial intelligence generating “art.”
Feelings range from machine-learned art taking jobs and stealing styles to it all being just another tool.
AI Writing
I friend recently posted a work of micro fiction on Facebook. He asked, “Can you tell which parts I wrote and which parts were written by a machine?”
The story was written in a very matter-o-fact style. Knowing this friend’s writing, I guessed the first and last lines of the story were his, only to discover he wrote only the first line — the rest was written by OpenAI’s playground.
While most of the story was rigid, it was clear — with a little touching up — one could create a readable story in no time.
An Experiment
Of course, I had to give it a try. I fed OpenAI this line: Emil always feared the ice cream shop on the corner of Elm and Main and clicked the Submit button.
This is the result:
Emil always feared the ice cream shop on the corner of Elm and Main.
He was never sure what it was that scared him about the place. Maybe it was the eerie red and black sign that hung in the window, or the way the security bars always seemed to be rattling, even when there was no wind. Whatever the reason, Emil had never mustered up the courage to go inside.
One summer day, however, his friends talked him into it. They said there was nothing to be afraid of, and that the ice cream was the best in town. Emil reluctantly agreed, and they went in.
The inside of the shop was just as he remembered it: dark, musty, and with an unsettling feeling in the air. But his friends were right—the ice cream was delicious.
After that day, Emil no longer feared the ice cream shop on the corner of Elm and Main. He realized that sometimes the things we’re afraid of turn out to be nothing at all.
Clearly, there are issues. Emil is terrified of the shop, but the algorithm mentioned it was “just as he remembered it.”
Nothing to write home about.
Still, with a minute or two of cleanup, you have a solid prompt that’s easy to turn into a serviceable story.
Touched Up
Here’s the story with a very quick clean up:
Emil always feared the ice cream shop on the corner of Elm and Main.
He was never sure what it was that scared him about the place. Maybe it was the eerie red and black sign that hung in the window, or the way the security bars always seemed to be rattling, even when there was no wind. Whatever the reason, Emil had never mustered up the courage to go inside.
One summer day, his friends talked him into entering Hell’s Cones. They said there was nothing to be afraid of, and that the ice cream was the best in town. Emil reluctantly agreed, and they went in.
The inside of the shop was just as he imagined it: dark, musty, and with an unsettling feeling in the air. But his friends were right—the ice cream was delicious.
After that day, Emil no longer feared the ice cream shop on the corner of Elm and Main; in fact, he craved all it offered. The day he was too busy to stop by, his stomach felt like he had swallowed embers. He couldn’t wait to get back in line with the others, all desperate to quench the pain within.
It was only then, knowing he could never skip another day, that Emil realized he should have trusted his gut…
On my own, with the first line I created, I would have spent more time working on a story I’m sure would have been completely different from this…but in a fraction of the time, I have something better than some stories I’ve read.
Should This Be Feared?
It’s easy to read the initial output and say, “Writers have little to worry about.” But this technology is only going to get better.
Right now, with a little dedication, decent stories can be created in a fraction of the time it takes even a fast writer to do their thing. For some people who write to formulas and race the clock, the technology is already good enough to match what’s being produced today.
In a matter of years, if not sooner, I’m sure a handful of prompts will produce a better first draft of a novel than what many of us meat-bag humans can produce. With some touching up (and eventually, not even that being necessary), technology will create better novels faster than those written by fast writers today.
So should writers fear this?
Maybe?
What’s In a Story?
This is where I’m supposed to say humans will always have the creative edge because they are human and know what humans like. What makes a story for many is voice, and that’s not as easy to replicate. But it doesn’t mean it won’t happen.
As a reader, I’m not interested in AI stories. Part of that is that I like the authors I read — not just what they write, but their interviews and other things that better connect me to the stories they tell.
Maybe a day will come when someone says they are writing stories, but are actually having machine learning generate their books. Maybe an “author” will let algorithms do most of the work and they will be the personality behind their stories and I will be fooled.
But it would be a hard act to keep up; it seems like it would be easy to see through the human, in that case, even better than the stories. For many, though, a story is more than just words: it’s the person behind it appearing at book festivals and interviews and so many other things an algorithm can’t do.
As a Writer
I think most people who want to write will still put in the effort. Or maybe someone comes along and part of the charm is knowing they generated an AI novel they then revised into something their own. In that sense, it could be like a writing duo where one writer is better at drafting and the other, revising.
But mostly, I think writers want to challenge themselves — not push a button and call it done.
Perhaps some people will generate stories and sell them and make more money than writers creating stories from their heads. And people will say it’s not fair that someone who’s not a writer is making money selling books, when actual writers aren’t.
But publishing has never been fair. For as long as its been a thing, there are voices that have been ignored and writers who make it more by playing the right games than writing the right books.
Most of us, I think, will keep writing our stories no matter what the future brings…
fin
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One More Example
If you want one more example of a line I fed OpenAI and what it produced…and what I did in a few minutes after the “story” was generated, here you go.
My line was: The thing in the corner stretched and made its was toward Bobby’s bed.
AI Draft:
The thing in the corner stretched and made its way toward Bobby’s bed.
Bobby’s heart started to race as he watched the thing slither across the floor. He tried to scream, but no sound came out.
The thing reached Bobby’s bed and started to climb up.
Bobby felt paralyzed by fear. He could do nothing but watch as the thing crawled closer and closer to him.
Suddenly, the thing was right on top of him, its vile breath washing over his face. Bobby tried to scream again, but still no sound came out.
The thing opened its mouth, revealing sharp, jagged teeth. Bobby knew that he was about to die.
And then, the thing spoke.
“Bobby,” it said in a hissing voice, “I’ve come for you.”
My Touch-Up
The thing in the corner stretched and made its way toward Bobby’s bed.
Bobby’s heart raced as he watched the thing slither across the floor. He tried to scream, but he was paralyzed with fear.
The thing reached Bobby’s bed and climbed up. He could do nothing but watch as it crawled across his legs and on top of him, its vile breath washing over his face. Bobby tried to scream again, but still: no sound came out.
The thing opened its mouth, revealing sharp, jagged teeth. Bobby knew he was about to die.
And then, the thing spoke.
“Bobby,” it said in a hissing voice, “you really need to cover your feet.”
The thing pulled Bobby’s blanket over his toes.
“You don’t want to give the monster beneath the bed an easy, late-night snack.”
From below, Bobby heard a whisper: “This is why we all hate you, Kevin!”
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Image Credit: “Photo realistic image of a writer at his desk” fed into Midjourney AI.
