That was the conundrum I found myself in when I started writing my latest thriller, The Deepest Fake.

(Live-writing My Thriller Novel.)

As a practicing physician, I’ve always felt confident fictionalizing medical topics, where my background lends an air of authority, deserved or not. But when The Deepest Fake plunged me into the world of artificial intelligence, I couldn’t rely on my day job anymore. Readers wouldn’t, and shouldn’t, give me the same benefit of the doubt. I’m, at best, tech literate adjacent.

Through researching and writing this book, I stumbled on some important lessons—many of them the hard way—about weaving AI and emerging technology into a story that feels authentic. The biggest takeaway? I didn’t have to be a neural network engineer to tell a convincing story about the human consequences of high-tech innovation.

Readers expect credibility, but in fiction, they don’t need a deep technical breakdown of the subject matter. In other words, they don’t have to see under the hood to enjoy the ride. Overexplaining science slows the pace and pulls readers out of the story. Instead of delving into cloud infrastructure, I opted to show the emotional fallout from a deepfake: the devastation, helplessness, and shame of a victim whose voice and image have been twisted beyond their control.

All genre fiction—whether it’s historical romance, legal thriller, or Nordic noir—requires some world-building. That challenge becomes even trickier with AI and technology, where it’s easy to overwhelm or confuse readers. What helped me most was using the characters to explain the science to one another, rather than rely on the narrator. Dialogue gave me the freedom to simplify, generalize, and take creative liberties.

For example, instead of paragraphs of prose explaining the complexities of AI versus artificial general intelligence—the kind that could truly think and reason—I let the characters unpack it in conversation. Paraphrased, it sounds like this:

“So Generative AI doesn’t really ‘think’ for itself?”
“Exactly. It stitches complex patterns together. As convincing as it is, it only simulates intelligence and creativity. True general intelligence—like you or me—actually understands and decides. Unlike AI, it has agency. And we’re not there yet. Thank God.”

After all, I wasn’t trying to teach computer science. I was exploring how big, abstract ideas can tear through ordinary lives.

Another common trap in writing about AI is chasing headlines. But advances in the field happen so quickly that today’s breakthroughs would probably feel passé before the book even hits the shelves. I found it better to treat tech news as inspiration rather than a blueprint—to let it spark “what if?” scenarios while making sure the plot still stands on its own.

For instance, when I first read about so-called “deathbots”—AI chatbots trained on a person’s digital footprint to simulate posthumous conversations—I was floored. The idea of interacting with a digital echo of a lost loved one, almost like having a Zoom call with the dead, was both fascinating and deeply unsettling. But rather than fixate on how the technology actually works, I found myself asking more personal questions: What if this tool unraveled someone’s life? What if it became the gateway to an even greater deception?

Another key lesson I learned is that while technology always marches—sometimes rockets—forward, the underlying themes remain unchanged. Deepfakes may one day give way to even more immersive deceptions, but the deeper questions (who controls the truth, who profits from lies) are perennial. Technology may provide the means, but it’s rarely the motive or the killer, though it does make for a convincing red herring.

Click to continue.

One other key takeaway: Technology can enhance a story’s atmosphere, much like setting does, but it can’t replace character or plot. Consider Jurassic Park: Those genetically re-engineered dinosaurs hooked us, but the story’s heart lay in its tension, stakes, and complex, believable characters. The same holds true for stories about AI. Without fully realized people, even the flashiest innovation falls flat.

In the end, what matters most is emotional resonance. A character willing to risk everything—their life, their identity, their integrity—will always be more memorable than the most sophisticated technology or gadgetry. That’s true even in the Bond franchise. What gave the AI real impact in my story was anchoring it in the characters’ emotions, struggles, and sometimes survival. That made it matter to me and, hopefully, to my readers.

As for where AI is headed, I’m as curious as I am cautious. The possibilities are thrilling, but the risks are just as real. And terrifying. I wanted to bring that tension into my story. To do that, I needed the right lens: a Cassandra, a protagonist who speaks the truth but isn’t believed by those around her. Through her voice, I could explore my own doubts, questions, and hopes.

What I’ve learned is this: When you root complex technology in genuine human stakes, it becomes not just plausible; it becomes meaningful. And that approach works far beyond AI. By focusing on the universal elements of story—trust, betrayal, identity, connection—you can write with confidence about any fast-changing field, even one outside your expertise.

Quick Tips for Writing Fiction Involving Emerging Tech

• Let dialogue do the heavy lifting. Use character conversations to explain complex ideas in natural, relatable ways.
• Don’t chase headlines. Let recent news inspire you, but don’t tether your plot to tech that might age out quickly.
• Focus on emotion. Highlight the personal consequences of the technology—where the stakes feel real.
• Keep it light but plausible. Do your research, but don’t overload the narrative with jargon.
• Lean on timeless themes. Whether your subject is AI, biotech, or law, the emotional core—trust, betrayal, fear, hope—will always resonate.

Check out Daniel Kalla’s The Deepest Fake here:

Bookshop | Amazon

(WD uses affiliate links)

The post How a Deepfake Thriller Taught Me to Write Realistic AI appeared first on Writer's Digest.

(5 Ways to Write Better Copy Than ChatGPT.)

So my first recommendation to my fellow copywriters is to figure out your AI policy, make it plain to see for the companies you write for, and post it on your site.

Mine reads:

“ChatGPT does not write copy for me or my clients.

“It never has. And I will never allow it to do so.

“I occasionally, though not very often, turn to ChatGPT for ideas, research, and outlines.

“But I do NOT use ChatGPT—or any other AI tool—to write copy.

“Either for my client projects. Or for my own products.

“No prompting. And no ‘training’ ChatGPT to write in my (or any other) voice.

“Nor do I subcontract to other copywriters—or have ‘copy cubs,’ ghostwriters, or anyone else write copy for my clients.

“When clients hire me, I write every word of the copy myself.

“In fact, I have written all the copy—for my clients and my little info marketing business—all by my lonesome, for more than 4 decades.

“And dozens of these clients say it has worked out pretty well for them—and for me—so far”:

https://www.bly.com/newsite/Pages/testimonials.php

*****

I will probably soon add a bit more explanation of the limited ways in which I do use ChatGPT, which are:

• For web search—in addition to, but not instead of, Google.
• To come up with multiple points for either making or proving a logical argument.
• Asking for further details or clarification of things I already think, believe, or know.
• Vetting of “big idea” promotions, most often for investment advisories but also for alternative health and certain other offers.

For example, when there was talk of Iran blocking the Strait of Hormuz, a strong promotion for a stock newsletter promotion on oil occurred to me and many other writers.

With a few queries to ChatGPT, I quickly got logical and cogent arguments of how this blockage would affect global oil supply, the U.S. stock markets, energy, and prices for gasoline and heating oil—with trends, forecasts, and conclusions backed by facts and data.

Then ChatGPT asked me whether I wanted specific stocks to invest in and also which ones to sell now—which I did. In short, everything a copywriter needs to write a strong promo on the effects of the current geopolitical situation on energy stock investing. That ChatGPT came up with loads of good ideas, information, data, and proof points vetted the big idea in a positive way.

On the other hand, if ChatGPT had produced a paucity of evidence or worse, thought the idea was weak and told me so, I would have concluded that the big idea had not passed the vetting process. So the odds of a winning Strait of Hormuz oil profits opportunity and a promotion based on it would have been too thin, weak, and risky.

Click to continue.

The post How I Use ChatGPT in My Copywriting appeared first on Writer's Digest.

(3 Ways to Fall in Love With Book Marketing.)

I’m 60 years old with zero coding experience, but I stumbled onto a technological solution that’s been working well for me. Instead of me pitching my books, one of my fictional characters does it—naturally, authentically, and with a personality that keeps readers engaged.

Here’s how it happened, why it works, and how any author can set this up in a weekend.

The $100 Wake-Up Call

Like most authors, I’ve always been intimidated by website technology. When someone quoted me $100 to change an image on my site, I had a realization: If I can write a book, I’m smart enough to change an image in Squarespace. (Also, I’m cheap.)

Two weeks later, with the help of ChatGPT, I had completely rebuilt my website from scratch. I no longer owned a basic domain—I created a state-of-the-art platform. It was now engineered for AI search discovery, complete with schema, code injections, and widgets for social media and book reviews. The project cost me nothing, versus the $5,000 I would have spent to hire it out. And honestly? The learning curve wasn’t as steep as you might expect.

But the real breakthrough wasn’t technical—it was creative.

Enter Uncle Gunny

Thomas “Uncle Gunny” Barnett is the gruff, no-nonsense military-veteran sidekick from my thriller series. He’s got a razor-sharp wit and zero patience for small talk. In my books, he’s the character with the most distinctive voice.

So I put him to work.

Now, when visitors land on my website, they can chat directly with Gunny. They ask about my books, and he responds in perfect character—complete with his signature one-liners and military-style directness. I still have traditional FAQ and “About the Author” pages, but Gunny has become the more popular way for visitors to get information—especially for people who haven’t read the books yet. Instead of scanning static content, they get to interact with someone from the fictional universe itself.

Here’s what I mean. When a visitor asks “What do you do around here?” Gunny responds: “I keep the peace, buttercup. Answer questions about Emma Noble and the books. Make sure you don’t get lost. And I get cigars if you subscribe to the newsletter. Keeps me busy.”

How This Idea Evolved (And Why It Works)

Let’s just say I have a ‘curiosity’ problem. I was researching what I needed to include on my website to be more discoverable by AI search engines. Apparently, a virtual assistant helps with that. But what’s the point of having a generic AI bot on an author’s website when you’ve only written two novels? That’s when I realized the perfect virtual assistant was already sitting in the pages of my own book: Uncle Gunny could handle the job with personality to spare.

When he recommends my newsletter, it doesn’t feel like marketing. It feels like advice from a friend—albeit a friend who doesn’t sugarcoat anything and calls you “buttercup.”

This approach seems to solve three fundamental author marketing problems:

The authenticity problem: Instead of me awkwardly promoting my own work, a character does it naturally as part of their personality.

The engagement problem: Readers can ask follow-up questions, explore character backstories, and dive deeper into the fictional world between books.

The soft-sell problem: Newsletter signups and book recommendations flow organically from conversations about the stories and characters.

It’s still early days but the feedback has been great. It’s improved the bounce rate on my site. People are sticking around a little longer than they used to, engaging with the character and exploring the fictional world I created…without spoilers.

Something Authors Already Have

Here’s what I’m starting to realize. Every author faces the same marketing challenges, and I’m not saying this solves all of them by any stretch—but it might be a step in the right direction. Our characters already have personalities that engage readers. They have distinctive voices and relationships that drive our stories forward. I’m seeing that readers enjoy tapping into their perspective and voice.

If that’s working…why not give them more?

In a world where AI is transforming every industry, authors might actually have a unique advantage. We’ve already built the fictional personalities that readers love. We’ve already done the hard part of creating compelling people.

Now we’ve got the technology to let them speak directly to our readers.

The Technology (Simpler Than You Think)

It takes a little work. But I promise, you don’t need to be tech-savvy to pull this off. I used ChatGPT as my coding assistant throughout the entire process. Whether I needed help writing character prompts, setting up boundaries, or figuring out how to integrate the chatbot into my website, ChatGPT walked me through every step. It’s like having a patient, knowledgeable friend who never gets frustrated when you ask the same question three different ways.

For hosting the character chatbot, I used a platform called Chatbase. It handles all the technical backend while providing a simple embed code that drops into my website—no coding required, just copy, paste, and customize the appearance. There’s also a playground feature where you can test your character before going live.

Total monthly cost: $40. Setup time: It took less than an afternoon.

Getting Started: A Practical Roadmap

Choose Your Character: You might consider choosing someone with a distinctive voice who could realistically serve as a “guide” to your work. I didn’t choose my protagonist because she’s too important to the series. Uncle Gunny was up to the task.

Define Their Role: Give them a comprehensive job description. Gunny serves as tour guide through my fictional world, book recommender, and newsletter host all rolled into one. The key is being clear about what they should and shouldn’t do within those roles. Your character’s role can always evolve as you get more comfortable with their performance.

Gather Source Material: Compile character descriptions, dialogue samples, and personality quirks. The more specific you are, the better the AI will capture their voice. Let them train on all the information on your website and the reviews of your work on Goodreads and Amazon—this gives the character context about how readers actually respond to your books.

Start Simple: Begin with basic Q&A about your work and characters. You can type in questions that you think visitors will ask frequently and tell your character exactly how to respond. Not only will this help you control the message, the AI learns from your style. You also have a choice to allow it creative freedom on a scale of 0-10. I chose 8. When the training was dialed in, it was good to go. Gunny is constantly surprising me.

Test Extensively: This step is crucial. Chat with your character from different angles. Make sure they stay in voice and handle unexpected questions gracefully. Ask them inappropriate and offensive questions. Really put them through the paces—you want to discover any boundary issues before your website visitors do.

Click to continue.

What’s Next?

Who knows? It’s all coming at us so quickly. Every week, it feels like we need to recalibrate what is now possible in the AI space. So, we’re confronted with an uncomfortable choice. Do we hide in the basement and hope this tornado of technology passes us by? Or do we find interesting ways to use it? Personally, I’m leaning into it, trying to figure out how I can make it work for me.

But I should be clear. There are boundaries. I will always be a writer of original fiction. I’m not an author that wants AI to auto-tune my distinctive voice. By its nature, AI is derivative—a cover band. I don’t know if it will ever be able to craft original, human emotion—but creatively, the question doesn’t interest me.

With Uncle Gunny, though? I’ve found a way that AI can serve both my readers and my marketing needs. And the best part? He’s doing all the heavy lifting.

Are you ready to put one of your characters to work? Who’s your Uncle Gunny?

Ready to meet Uncle Gunny yourself? Visit https://www.andrewbridgeman.com/ask-uncle-gunny and see character-driven marketing in action. Just don’t expect him to be overly polite about it.

The post How I Turned My Gruff, No-Nonsense Character Into My Best Marketing Tool (And How Any Author Can Do the Same—No Coding Required) appeared first on Writer's Digest.

(Think AI Is Bad for Authors? The Worst Is Yet to Come.)

While the authors defended their use of AI as brainstorming and editing help, the incident sparked outrage and exposed a growing crisis. Artificial intelligence isn’t just competing with human creativity—it is quietly replacing it, often without readers knowing.

But this controversy is only the beginning. Writers, artists, and even tech giants are taking a stand against how AI is being used, especially when it comes to scraping human-created content without consent. At the heart of this movement is a call for ethical use.

Like humans, AI learns by consuming existing information. In the case of large language models (LLMs), the type of AI most readers and writers interact with, that information often comes from sweeping the internet and pulling data from original works, including copyrighted materials. Most creators never gave permission for their work to be used this way. Worse, they haven’t been compensated, even as AI companies profit from powerful tools built on the backs of these third-party assets.

Organizations like the Authors Guild have taken a public stand. In January 2025, they launched a “Human Authored” certification system to help readers identify books created without AI. (For transparency, I’m a Guild member.) Their statement reads: “Generative technologies built illegally on vast amounts of copyrighted works without licenses, without giving authors any compensation or control over the use of their works, are used to cheaply and easily produce works that compete with and displace human-authored books, journalism, and other works.”

In short, authors’ original work is now being used to train the very tools that threaten to replace them.

Some platforms are starting to respond. Substack now allows users to block AI models from scraping content. Google has introduced tools for website owners to protect their content without harming search visibility. These are steps in the right direction, but as bots evolve, the tools to block them will need to evolve as well.

So, what can writers, authors, and illustrators do to protect their work from being used without consent? Here are a few practical actions:

1. Opt out where you can.

Platforms like Tumblr, DeviantArt, and Substack now offer settings to opt out of AI data training. These options are typically found in privacy settings under “AI training” or “AI bots.”

2. Add a statement to your copyright page.

If you self-publish, consider including a line such as: “This content is not available for AI training. All rights reserved.” While this may not stop all scraping, it makes your intent clear and could support future legal protections.

3. Use digital masking for art.

Graphic artists and illustrators are encouraged to make use of watermarks and lower resolution images when posting publicly. If you want your images to look appealing to the human eye while still adding a layer of protection against AI theft, consider using a digital masking tool. One popular option is Glaze, a free app developed by the University of Chicago. It helps by making changes to pixels that are hard to decipher by machine learning models but cannot be seen by humans. 

4. Block bots on your website.

You can choose to block AI Bots on your own website to protect your work. If you have a website or blog and use a website builder like GoDaddy, Wix, or Squarespace to manage it, there are ways to block AI bots with a few steps. With Squarespace it’s a simple toggle in the settings. With Wix and other builders it requires an edit of your robots.txt file. Call support and let them know that you would like to stop AI Bots from crawling specific pages of your website and they will assist. Be aware that blocking certain AI bots may prevent your content from appearing in AI-generated previews or summaries in tools like Google’s AI Overviews or other search assistant features. However, it typically will not affect your traditional search engine rankings or visibility.

5. Be strategic about what you share.

Your best defense is to be intentional about how you share your work online. Be mindful of what you post and where you post it. Writers might post only short excerpts or summaries on platforms that still allow scraping. Artists may want to watermark or lower the resolution of shared images. The key is to be intentional with how and where you publish online.

Ultimately, AI is not the threat. It is how it is being used. The issue is not the technology, it is the ethics of those behind it.

Click to continue.

The post How Writers Can Protect Their Work From AI Exploitation appeared first on Writer's Digest.

(Grammar rules for writers.)

Rather, we’re looking at bigger picture mistakes and mishaps, including the error of using too much exposition, hiding your pitch, or chasing trends. This week’s mistake is using AI.

It’s everywhere you look. It’s the first result when you Google a question. It’s being used to generate book recommendation lists, featuring books that don’t exist. Heck, Tom Cruise just saved the human race from its total destruction.

AI, it would seem, is inescapable, permeating and puncturing every industry. Executives with little to lose seem thrilled by its prospects: the money they could save, the “efficiency” of its speed, the belief in its comparable quality to something made by an actual person. Creatives, by and large, have urged caution at dabbling in artificially generated content, but some still embrace it.

The publishing industry is not without its AI woes. AI-generated prompts were recently left within published works from authors. Writer’s Digest’s own Jane Friedman had her name being printed on books she didn’t write, to name a few. It seems like everyone is clamoring to cut the messy middle of making art so they can enjoy the pretty, final product—that, and to blatantly steal the likeness of others to make a quick buck.

Let’s just get this out of the way: There is no ethical, moral, or imaginative way to use AI to make our stories better. Killing the creative process kills creativity. You cannot use AI to do the work for you and then take credit for simply asking the question.

Writing Mistake: Using AI

Let me start by saying that in a passive way, every single one of us has used AI for years. Whether it’s through Siri or checking our spelling and grammar before submitting a paper, mundane AI is nothing new—and there is an argument that these things are not the problem (aside from the environmental cost of AI overall, but that’s a conversation for another day). Of course, spellcheck is helpful. Even as I write this, the mistakes I’ve made have been caught and fixed. (Read that again: the mistakes I made). I’m glad for it. And I also learn from it—a grammar mistake I never knew I was making reveals itself, and so I try not to make that mistake again on my own. The more mistakes it catches, the less I make in the future, the less I need its engineering.

But AI should not be a shortcut for our creativity. It should not be responsible for our plots, for building our characters, for our dialogue, for stringing together sentences. I don’t think it should even be used for creative brainstorming. There’s this sense that the process we deserve is one that is smooth and seamless. Fellow writers, if that’s what you’re looking for, then I’m sorry but you chose the wrong artform.

The writing process is almost exclusively messy. It’s about making mistakes and leading your characters down the wrong road. It’s about hundreds of words that may ultimately be deleted. There is no linear way to write a novel, and in trying to eliminate the literal writing process, you’re not only doing a disservice to your creativity, but you’re also doing a disservice to yourself.

I’ve learned more about who I am as a writer and as a person from being in the messy middle of the writing process. I resolve some dormant disappointment from my past through journaling it out, and through that journaling, I create story. (For more about creating story from lived experiences, listen to my chat with literary agent Jessica Berg here.)

How Not To Use AI

Literally just don’t. There’s this overwhelming narrative that AI is inevitable, and AI relies on thinking we are powerless before it. But the truth is you can simply choose not to use it.

Embrace the challenge of the writing process. Not everything in our lives is meant to be convenient. Writing is inherently inconvenient. We carve out time in our busy days to write sometimes only a dozen words. So little of the cumulative work we do often ends up in the final product. But the more we write, the more we know about what we’re writing, and the more that seeps into our stories, even if not literally within them. A house cannot hold without a strong foundation, so too our stories crumble without our innate understanding of them. And to understand them, we have to get to know them, and we get to know them in that messy writing process.

New York Times-bestselling author Lauren Groff wrote my favorite book of all time, Fates and Furies. In a conversation with Charlie Rose in 2016, she said she wrote between 10-12 drafts of that novel long-hand. I won’t speak for you, but that is the work I strive to do, and I would rather never reach my publishing goals than to reach them by way of AI.

And yet. While I think AI will continue to be something we writers have to navigate, I am confident and optimistic that each of us can achieve our publishing goals without its interference. Believe in your ability to take an idea and turn it into something only you could conjure up. I certainly do.

The post Writing Mistakes Writers Make: Using AI appeared first on Writer's Digest.

(Think AI Is Bad for Authors? The Worst Is Yet to Come.)

Now, though, this AI future is solidly, and unavoidably, here. The robots have arrived, and they can write.

Any conversation about the future of publishing or writing in the last several months has included some consideration of AI, and not in a positive way. There are real concerns about plagiarism, the end of creativity, and of course, whether or not writers are even needed in a world where AI can churn out books upon books of content each day, without rest.

I sympathize with writers who look at what AI has wrought and cower in fear, or push back in anger, or throw up their hands, unsure what to do with yet another disruption to the industry. Most of us just want to write, and make a living doing it, however we can, and don’t care to make sense of whatever the heck a transformer is, and why it comes to us pre-trained, and how a combination of those things could be anything close to generative. At least, that’s how I feel.

But recently, I’ve also found myself relying more and more on AI in my work as a ghostwriter and writer, becoming a little more productive—maybe 5%—aligned with what Nate Silver calculated as his own AI-driven boost. This made me think a little deeper about how exactly everything will shake out with AI, and consider that maybe, possibly, it won’t be all bad. And that if I continue to keep my head stuck in the ground around all things AI, I might get left behind.

Reports of our AI dystopian future may be greatly exaggerated

Before I go any further, I want to be crystal clear about two things: First is that, in my opinion—which, also to be clear, is likely worth less than your average ephemeral hot take coming out of this digital soapbox we know as the internet—AI still suffers from major ethical concerns around plagiarism and data mining. AI operates in this way because the companies that developed the software rely on the theft-based dominant business model of the internet, as beautifully described by tech writers like Jaron Lanier. This decision is a choice that can be altered while still preserving the potential upside of the tool.

Second: I never use AI to write anything. I was at a writing conference and someone told me he used AI to craft a first draft of a piece he was working on, just to get away from the blank page. I thought this seemed suspect, but I figured I’d give it a try, because, generally speaking, I do not trust my own instincts about things, especially when it comes to my profession. I asked AI to write a blog post on a topic I was working on for a client, and oh boy, was it terrible. It took me longer to edit the first paragraph than it would have taken to write the first half of the piece on my own. So, I do not want to advocate for AI-based writing. Both for ethical reasons (see point #1, above) and practical concerns.

Where AI can help writers

However, I have found that for the supplemental parts of writing, AI can be quite useful. I work as a ghostwriter for business leaders, and I have been able to use AI to help with research, copyediting, and asking for words that mean the same thing, but slightly different (this used to be called a thesaurus).

At first I felt bad about doing this, because, you know, AI is bad, but then, instead of using AI, I went back to my old methods: Googling things. I realized how silly this was—I was preventing myself from using a powerful tool to improve my work, while using a different digital tool that might be just as bad, or possibly worse, depending on your opinions of Google (which has now integrated an AI search tool that I find not super effective).

Click to continue.

AI has already been helping writers

It was then I realized that I, a digital native that got the internet in my home when I was around 10 years old, have never written anything without the help of software trained on the writing of authors who came before.

I do not think I would have the career I do now without spellcheck, for example. I am a terrible, terrible speller. But that hasn’t really been a problem for me as a writer. The robots take care of any misspellings. Sure, you can say I could have gotten over this character deficit if I didn’t have spellcheck as a crutch, but to be honest, I don’t think that’s true. I can’t do Wordle, I’m terrible at the crossword. It’s just who I am.

Fitzgerald was also apparently pretty bad at spelling and grammar and he had the benefit of paying someone to take care of those petty mistakes for him. Spellcheck was able to bring that previously high-cost, labor intensive service to the masses.

In the same way, AI is simply a technological advancement with an uncertain future. We can choose to make it our own, and use it to be better and more creative writers. When I’m working with a sentence that’s particularly complex, I can ask AI: Is this sentence grammatically correct? It spits out an answer, and about half the time, it’s helpful. For someone who spends my day in a room alone, writing, this is a tremendous benefit.

So how can writers get started with AI?

I do not want to endorse a particular product, but in case you are interested, I will say that I do not use ChatGPT, but instead, Perplexity, which was developed, in part, to take on Google. Perplexity seems to be much better about research-related tasks and the things I do to supplement my writing, both creative and professional. (Although it has its own issues.)

If you are a writer and wondering if you should start to integrate AI into your workflows, I would say now is the time. Do not think of it as an existential threat, but a tool to be used. Much of the narrative on what it can do is overblown, so tread lightly and double check your work. But if you can boost your productivity by at least 5%, that gives you that much time to do more, or do less, or do whatever you want.

Also, don’t worry about AI coming for your job. I don’t know your job, exactly, so I can’t say that for certain it won’t happen, but in my case, as AI has spread, I’ve only gotten more and more work. At least half a dozen people in and around the tech industry have hired me to write about AI, which shows the people creating our AI future think there is still value in human writers. I don’t think that’s going to change.

The post AI Has Made Me a Better Writer, but not by Writing appeared first on Writer's Digest.

With all this talk about AI lately, it’s hard to know whether it’s ethical to use it as a writer, let alone how to use it. Having it write stories for you? Obviously not a good idea. But what about asking it to help you with a story outline?

I decided to conduct an experiment to try and answer these questions.

(AI Stole My Name: A Chat with Jane Friedman)

The Experiment

To explore this, I pulled up both Claude and ChatGPT and gave them the exact same task:

Create a story outline about a man who has been caught cheating on his girlfriend, who is a witch, and leaves him in the middle of the night taking all of her belongings except for a small black box. The man tries to throw the box away, but it appears back in his house. It has a siren call and one night, he wakes up finding himself naked and clutching the box to his chest. Afraid of what will happen to him if he opens it, he gives the box away at his company’s secret santa event. He’s been assigned to Lee (pronouns they/them), the new IT hire, and feels good to have it out of his house. Over the next few months, Lee’s behavior becomes more and more erratic. Meanwhile, the man’s computer and files start sabotaging him at work and he swears he sees Lee places around his home. Eventually, Lee causes a scene at work that ends in them being fired and then that night when the man goes home, Lee is lying in wait at his home, ending in a physical confrontation between them. Lee is faster and stronger than they should be, and the man ends up narrowly escaping them, wounded, running out into the street, only to be hit by an oncoming car. As he lays there, his ex gets out of the car, leisurely on the phone with 911, a smile on her face.

This is what Claude gave me:

And this is what ChatGPT gave me:

Analysis

You’ll note that the initial outline has a ton of details. I originally gave the AIs much less material, but there were hardly enough details in their answer to constitute an outline. That in itself is both a relief and problematic—I wouldn’t want AI to write my story for me, but how helpful is it if I have to have all the details already written down?

The first thing I noticed is that ChatGPT gave my characters names, as well as giving the male MC an age and Lee an “enigmatic presence.” Other than those embellishments, it has made up that Lee “seems fascinated by odd and mystical items” and the female antagonist a stereotypical villain speech scene that I would absolutely not include. This was annoying, because I had to comb the outline, change details, and remove things that didn’t align with my idea. Upside: I know from past dealings with this platform that some of the things ChatGPT puts into an outline are hysterical.

Claude, on the other hand, does not include any embellishments that I hadn’t included in the original prompt. This was much preferable, as it only utilized the information I gave it and simply organized the chaos of my thoughts into something more reasonable.

Both AI platforms gave me an organized outline, though ChatGPT has separated it into four distinct acts with three main points each while Claude has given me eight distinct parts with 2–4 main points each. Either could work if I were to start writing using them, and it does make me consider whether an 8-point story structure (which focuses on stasis, trigger, quest, surprise, critical choice, climax, reversal, and resolution) or a 4-act structure (which focuses on setup, rising action, crisis, and resolution) would better service my story.

Otherwise, they didn’t give me much to consider—no ideas for world-building, no room for subplots, etc. You could probably ask the AI to build those things into it as you flesh the story out, but you could also just copy/paste the initial outline into a Word document and keep planning that way.

(Is Journalism Under Threat From AI?)

Conclusion

So, is AI worthwhile to outline your stories?

This writer/editor says nah.

Without even considering the way that AI developers are training their programs, they’re not set up to do everything that a writer needs. You’re better off setting up shop with programs like The Novel Factory and Dabble, which have tons of features that help you keep track of your outlines, manage your notes, create a character bible, and even help you create and keep goals and organize writing sprints.

It’s a fun exercise, but for all the intricacies that go into plotting a story, it doesn’t seem like AI is currently up to the task of supporting writers through the outlining stage. 

Click to continue.

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(Using AI to Develop and Workshop Your Characters.)

The idea of machines crafting narratives evokes images of mass-produced, soulless stories, devoid of the rich tapestry of human experience and expression. There is a palpable and legitimate concern that AI could become a modern-day Frankenstein’s monster, consuming the very essence of what makes storytelling—like any art—so profoundly human. Yet, it is crucial to distinguish between the reckless ambition that drove Victor Frankenstein and the emerging interactive, collaborative approach now possible to writers.

Loss of creativity through an automated standardization of manuscript production are imminent dangers AI presents for writers; a slippery slope of convenience and word quantity that allows one to churn out words designed to achieve the quantitative aspects of our craft while sacrificing the imaginative contributions storytelling brings to our audiences. Critics of artificial intelligence are spot-on in arguing that computer generations are devoid of human creativity. The contention that human imagination and intuition are sacrificed for ease and speed is critically important when introducing technological advances into any artistic realm, including storytelling.

The dire outcome of an increasing reliance on technology in writing is the eventual homogenization and predictability of stories. Plots, characters, and themes are replicated as formulas designed for maximum efficiency, turning these tools and skills of authors into bland and uninspired programs and scripts developed solely for replication to achieve predetermined goals. The essence of the journey and adventure for readers in a compelling manuscript is replaced by automatic generation and formulaic repetition to meet goals, disregarding the purpose of engaging in this craft to create an epic journey for our audiences.

Despite concerns about AI replacing human creativity, it can serve as a powerful tool to enhance the writing process. Technology can and should be harnessed to strike a delicate balance of assisting writers in storytelling while still preserving the creativity and imagination inherent in the craft. Word processors, spell-check, and the Internet have all brought innovations and ease to the craft of writing. Artificial intelligence can exist as another tool in the arsenal allowing writers to better express their thoughts, as long as we take care not to allow too much control of the process.

Imagine an artist with a palette of endless colors, countless hues representing possibilities and avenues for artistic expression. AI can offer writers a wealth of inspiration, analyzing vast amounts of ideas to suggest intriguing plot twists, character nuances, and narrative arcs. These suggestions are not meant to dictate the story but to spark the writer’s imagination, much like a muse whispering ideas that might otherwise remain undiscovered.

The benefits of artificial intelligence extend beyond mere inspiration. Consider the data-driven process of analyzing and quantifying feedback on an author’s manuscript, a method reminiscent of the soulless grades and reports we’ve all encountered, like readability scores and statistical evaluations. Responding to art with such mechanical analytics can feel equally soulless. Instead, technology can and should act as a translator turning mathematical calculations into understandable, useful feedback. Like an ancient oracle interpreting the will of the gods, AI tools can improve the storytelling process by transforming complex analytical and data-driven feedback into clear, actionable advice designed to be understood by writers, instead of a cold report written for statisticians. This transformation helps writers refine their craft without being overwhelmed by technical jargon and regression analysis.

Writing a novel is like exploring a labyrinth, where each turn and corridor unveils a new potential plot point, character development, or thematic element. It is easy to lose one’s way amidst the myriad details. AI-powered tools can act as an Ariadne’s thread, assisting writers in maintaining continuity and coherence throughout their narrative journey. No longer should an author forget that one of the characters went on vacation in Chapter Two, only to mysteriously appear later in the story to create a plot hole. Artificial intelligence can help authors by ensuring no crucial detail is forgotten, allowing them to weave believable and consistent stories with confidence and clarity.

It is vital to address a danger accessible to writers investigating the tools provided by artificial intelligence: It is obscene to use AI to churn out computer-written books. The heart of storytelling lies in the lived experiences, emotions, and perspectives that only a human can bring. The role of any tool used to support writers is not to create dry and stodgy drivel presented as stories but to empower them to tell their own, enriched by the tools we provide. AI should be a supportive partner, not a domineering presence flooding bookshelves with uninspired words.

In the spirit of Mary Shelley’s cautionary tale, writers need to recognize that AI is neither inherently good nor evil. It is a tool, and, like any tool, its impact depends on how it is used—or misused. When wielded with care and respect, AI can support and illuminate the path of creativity, making the process more efficient and enjoyable without compromising the integrity of the writer’s humanity and authentic voice. Abused or relied upon without thought to automate writing beyond its capabilities, artificial intelligence risks becoming the very monster we fear.

AI offers an exciting frontier for writers struggling to find ways to enhance their creative process. We should strive to harness this technology to support and augment human creativity, ensuring that the art of storytelling remains rich, diverse, and deeply human. By embracing it as a supporting partner instead of using it to produce a computer-generated end product, we can continue to craft stories that resonate with authenticity and emotional depth, preserving the irreplaceable essence of what it means to be a storyteller in an age of innovation.

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(5 Mistakes Authors Should Avoid on TikTok.)

If the author hadn’t been paying attention, she might have missed the red flags signaling that @reads_jennifer’s Bookstagram account is “fake” (allegedly).

First, although @reads_jennifer has a large following and gets hundreds of likes on many posts, there are hardly ever any comments. This suspicious lack of engagement for an account with more than 27,000 followers suggests that many of the followers are bots or inactive accounts—in other words, followers that the account holder has purchased.

Second, our book publicity firm did a Google reverse image search on “Jennifer’s” profile picture, and it’s been used elsewhere (and not by anyone named Jennifer, we noticed). Actually, “Jennifer’s” profile picture appears to be stolen from an influencer named Yaren Ebru Kalan (again, allegedly).

A closer look at “Jennifer’s” posts reveals that the book covers are photoshopped onto stock backgrounds. The books have a one-dimensional, weightless quality in the photos, and the background remains totally identical while only the cover image changes. It’s unlikely that a physical book is present in any of these photos.

Next, we Googled some of the featured books. While we did find that the books are real, our search led us to two other Bookstagram accounts, @reads.grace and @reads.rachel. We noticed all three accounts are very similar, reviewing the same books, using the same phrasing in their respective reviews (such as “beacon of hope”and “holistic approach” in the last example) and using the same stock backgrounds between accounts. It’s possible that these three accounts—and more like them—are run by the same person or group.

And it’s equally possible that the featured reviews are AI-generated text, scraped straight from the books’ synopses.

Finally, after “Jennifer” expressed interest in featuring our author’s book on @reads_jennifer, she later revealed it cost $35 for a feature and asked for our author’s PayPal information in the chat. Big red flag! 

While some legitimate reviewers require payment for a feature, “Jennifer’s” DM’d PayPal request is reminiscent of classic online scam techniques—she reached out first, not mentioning payment until later. Given “Jennifer’s” seemingly fake user photo, fake book posts, fake followers, and by-the-numbers similarity to other accounts, a “Bookstagram scam” seems likely.

Here are 10 tips for how to spot—and deal with—a Bookstagram scam:

1. Check the influencer’s posts to make sure they’re getting engagement (diverse comments from legitimate users). Don’t just look at likes and follower counts—followers can be bought.
2. Check who has tagged the account. At the time of writing this, “Jennifer” seems to only be tagged by “Jennifer.” Compare this to our Books Forward account’s tagged section, where you can see we have been tagged by a variety of real Bookstagram friends.
3. Check the influencer’s Stories—Is there evidence of a real person posting diverse content? Or, are their Stories nothing but Amazon links, where they likely get affiliate commissions for book purchases?
4. Google the person’s name, account title, and/or email address if it’s available. A lack of viable results may be another red flag. When searched, a real person is typically referenced at least once or twice elsewhere online (another account, a blog, an article, etc).
5. Reverse image search the post images and/or profile photo on Google. If the same photo is appearing under multiple unrelated account names (or if their profile pic is very clearly of a real person unrelated to the Bookstagrammer), it’s probably been stolen.
6. If there are marked similarities between accounts that claim to be run by completely different influencers, then it’s likely those “influencers” do not exist.
7. Keep a sharp eye on the posts themselves—Are the photos too similar? Do they seem photoshopped or fake? While some legitimate influencers may photoshop some of their photos, real Bookstagrammers are receiving physical copies of books and usually featuring them!
8. Similarly, pay attention to the wording of the reviews. AI-generated text often has a certain formality to it, like an English major gunning for a good grade on their essay by using as many impressive words as possible. Could the text feasibly be an AI-rehash of the synopsis? Or does the Bookstagrammer inject their personality, opinions, and idiosyncrasies into the review, the way a real person posting on their real social media account for their real followers might do? This is a tricky one, but training your eye to spot AI-generated text is important and useful.
9. Be skeptical if a reviewer asks for your PayPal information, especially if they weren’t upfront about charging for a review in the first place.
10. Ignore, block, or report fake Bookstagram accounts to help prevent other authors from getting scammed in the future.

Does it matter if a Bookstagram account is “fake”, so long as the author gets featured? Sure, our author could have paid $35 to @reads_jennifer, and (presuming her payment info didn’t get stolen outright) may have gotten a potentially AI-generated review, with her cover photoshopped on a stock background on “Jennifer’s” account. But is that exposure really worth it? 

There is no real gain to being featured in front of fake followers and receiving little to no engagement on the post. If anything, scammy Bookstagram accounts crowd out legitimate influencer accounts.

Make sure you’re working with real Bookstagrammers: real readers who truly read the books they review. Who share them with engaged fans. And who won’t steal your money.

The post AI-generated Bookstagrammers Are Targeting Authors—and the Scam Could Cost Authors Money appeared first on Writer's Digest.

(Do AI Dream of Electric Deeps?)

Along with journalists grappling with AI-generated news stories, teachers trying to weed out essays their students didn’t write, and technologists warning of the existential threat to humanity of unregulated AI, the publishing industry has abruptly needed to understand the implications of this transformative technology. As both a full-time author and a 20-year veteran of Silicon Valley, including as a founder and executive at multiple AI-based software startups and investment funds, I have deep expertise and a unique vantage point from both sides on this subject.

My observation: Authors are absolutely right to worry about the negative impacts of AI, but it’s not for the reasons we think. And the worst implications may be yet to come.

The Most Prevalent Concerns of AI for Writers

To-date, the most prevalent concerns among authors about AI primarily fall into three main areas:

1. AI model training—Rightfully so, many authors worry that their writing, conceived through their creativity, skill, and hard work, is being systematically fed into large language models as the basis for training generative AI algorithms without their consent.
2. Lack of remuneration—Even more concerning is the prospect that tech companies will profit from the exploitation of proprietary literary work without any financial consideration paid to the author.
3. Production of AI-generated books—As generative AI models improve at a seemingly exponential rate, the prospect of an influx of AI-generated books could curtail the livelihood of professional writers, who already compete with the roughly two million books published by human beings each year.

While these concerns are absolutely valid and the publishing industry is taking appropriate measures to protect itself, I believe the biggest threat to authors from AI is still looming on the horizon. Let me explain.

In terms of AI model training, this concern reached a fever pitch in August when The Atlantic ran a series of revelatory articles by freelance writer Alex Reisner that disclosed which specific published books were being used in a dataset called Books3 to train AI engines like ChatGPT. Reisner even cleverly devised a tool for looking up specific authors and titles to determine if they are in the dataset.

In addition to the social media firestorm, thousands of authors (including myself) signed this open letter to the leaders of AI companies demanding permission and compensation for the use of copyrighted work. The urgency escalated in the fall with several class action lawsuits brought by a long list of bestselling authors as well as the Author’s Guild itself against OpenAI, the company behind ChatGPT. Further, publishers, including my own, have hastened to include legal disclaimers in their books explicitly prohibiting AI training without permission.

While these legal cases will help clarify a gray area in copyright law (essentially, whether scraping copyrighted work constitutes “fair use”), I’m not sure it’s the remedy authors are hoping for—which, let’s face it, for many authors amounts to a hope that the entire technology crawls back into the hell hole from which it came. What we as authors tend to imagine is an AI engine ingesting our writing and then spitting out something that infringes on our work. Though there have been some egregious examples of copyright infringement, such as the AI-generation of a new book in George R.R. Martin’s Game of Thrones series, existing copyright laws clearly prohibit such practices. It will never be permissible for AI to overtly mimic or outright plagiarize the work of established authors, just as it would be if such work were created by a human. Generative AI companies don’t want their platforms misused for such obviously illegal activity either. So, while it is appropriate for adversely impacted authors to defend themselves, I don’t see copyright infringement being an issue for the vast majority of authors.

The mere presence of copyrighted work in large language models is a more nuanced concern. As alarming as it may be if you’re, say, Michael Connelly, to discover 45 of your books in the Books3 training set, it’s still a minuscule drop in the proverbial ocean. The idea of artificial intelligence is that it mimics human intelligence, but at machine scale. Just like a child learning to read and write, the more the AI engine consumes, the better it understands. Generative AI companies aren’t hand-picking well-written books for training purposes. They want to train their engines on all the content ever generated by all humanity, that just happens to include all the best authors in the world, ever. From the vantage point of AI companies, the answer to “should this content go into the training data” is always yes, no matter what the content is. And, frankly, at some level, I want any generative AI tool in widespread use to have read Michael Connelly, as well as Michael Crichton, Michael Chabon, and any other Michael authors.

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Given the sheer scale of these large language models, the degree to which AI-generated content has been influenced by any one book or author is impossible to determine. Even the programmers of these AI engines cannot say the extent to which the output of a deep learning neural network is influenced by the inclusion of any particular piece of training data—that is the promise of software that operates in the same mysterious ways as the human brain. Every human author produces content that is subtly influenced by everything they’ve ever read, especially the authors they admire. It would be impossible for me to quantify how much these and other authors have influenced my own writing style, even though they indisputably have.

Which brings us to the question of compensation. If a specific piece of copyrighted material is only a tiny fraction of the input, and that material has an indeterminable impact on the output, how would one calculate an amount due to the author or publisher of that work? Again, I intuitively get the argument that it seems like there should be some compensation, but practically speaking it’s nearly impossible to devise a mathematic formula for how those royalty checks could be determined. Furthermore, given the scale, it’s hard to imagine those checks amounting to anything more than a cup of coffee, even for the biggest bestselling authors.

Finally, the concern that AI-generated content could marginalize human writers is also valid. As Mary Rasenberger, CEO of Authors Guild, summarized this concern when she said, “Creators are feeling an existential threat to their profession, so there’s a feeling of urgency.” Again, intuitively, I understand the worry that “AI could take over my job”—setting aside the fact that this exact worry of one’s job being automated has been prevalent among low-skilled, manual workers for decades. Now that same prospect exists for white-collar, well-educated, creative occupations as well. As authors, we are far from alone—AI is profoundly changing every job from computer programmer to investment banker. While I support the disclosure of AI-generated content, I don’t believe human authors are going to become extinct. Instead, I see AI as a productivity tool in the vein of offset printing, word processing, or digital publishing. Though some jobs and tasks may be rendered obsolete, new skills will emerge, writers will focus their energy on more high-value, creative work, and readers will continue to value human-generated, original content.

The Real AI Threat for Writers: Discovery Bias

Which brings us to a largely unforeseen threat of AI that has received little attention. As valid as the concerns listed above are, the biggest impact of AI on authors in the long run will have less to do with how content is generated than how it is discovered. To understand this threat, it’s informative to step back and consider why generative AI platforms are being created in the first place. Hint: It’s not so fans can auto-generate the next Colleen Hoover novel. The reason Microsoft has plunked down a $13 billion investment into OpenAI, and Alphabet (Google), Meta (Facebook & Instagram), and most other tech giants see OpenAI as an existential threat is the age-old question of how content is discovered. Technology markets tend to be a zero-sum game. And the current battle, arguably the only battle, being waged between these tech titans is how 7.9 billion people find things on the internet.

Since the advent of the printing press, control over what content we consume has been a source of power and wealth. For centuries, the arbiters of content discovery were primarily religious leaders. Then in the 18th and 19th centuries with the rise of newspapers and modern printing techniques, publishers became the gatekeepers for curating the best content. The emergence of radio and television in the 20th century gave us new means of discovering content, and for advertisers to find customers. With the arrival of the internet and its promise of all the world’s content now only a click away, each subsequent generation of tech companies has aspired to dominate content discovery. AOL and Yahoo tried to organize content into categories. Then Yahoo, and much more successfully Google, made content discoverable through a search engine—and turned it into a $1.8-trillion company. Later, Facebook made content discoverable through news feeds from our friends—becoming itself a $1-trillion company. The common thread through all these content discovery mechanisms? Advertising.

AI will fundamentally change how we discover content. And, therein, lies the biggest threat to authors. In a future of AI-curated content, whose content do you think will be discoverable? Short answer: Whoever pays for that privilege. AI is an advertiser’s dream. Rather than placing ads adjacent to Google search results or embedded in an Instagram feed, AI can just tell the user what to read, what to buy, what to do, without the pesky inconvenience of autonomous thought. This prospect of Discovery Bias will further concentrate the publishing industry into fewer and fewer bestselling authors—the ones with the name recognition, publicity teams, and promotional budgets to generate a self-perpetuating consumption loop. Readers, unwittingly subjugated to AI decision-making, will become more compartmentalized, discovering only authors who are “similar to author X,” as storylines, characters, and cover art become even more copycat. This Discovery Bias will happen not only in book sales but in every facet of the modern economy.

So far, OpenAI has claimed to shun advertising, but we’ve seen this movie before. What I see is a tried-and-true tech industry strategy: Offer a free service to amass a large audience, leverage users’ actions to train algorithms and develop a proprietary asset, then harness that audience and asset by selling it to advertisers. Every time you perform a search on Google, its algorithms learn based on what you click. Every time you post attributes on your profile or like something on Facebook, its algorithms learn what to feed you next and those attributes are sold out the back door as targeting for advertisers. OpenAI is doing the exact same thing with ChatGPT: building a user base and training its engine with human feedback. It’s only a matter of time before they sell that to advertisers. I can assure you, OpenAI is not performing a public service, conducting a science experiment, or operating a nonprofit. They are a for-profit corporation. Their recent public melodrama eradicated any lingering doubt about that. And advertising is their path to becoming a multi-trillion-dollar company.

Unfortunately for authors, nothing is going to put the generative AI genie back in the bottle. Like it or not, we are entering the age of artificial intelligence, and we will all need to adapt. Authors and the publishing industry are wise to be skeptical, informed, and vigilant to protect against the negative consequences of this technology. But we also shouldn’t be luddites pretending generative AI doesn’t, or shouldn’t, exist or failing to utilize it for our own benefit. The inherent limitation of generative AI—that it is, almost by definition, reductive and derivative in its outputs—is the opportunity we human authors should embrace: crafting stories that are original, emotional, and compelling. Stories that understand and examine the human condition, elicit empathy, and evoke everything from fear to love. That is still something that no technology can replicate.

The post Think AI Is Bad for Authors? The Worst Is Yet to Come appeared first on Writer's Digest.