Image: Depositphotos
Gen X is my generation. The “Middle Child” Generation, which is often forgotten and always pissed off. As a ten-year-old, I explored on foot, carried my own house key, and stayed out past dark. When strangers spoke to me, I sassed them back. Gen X grew up with analog and digital, and I vividly remember when computers were beige.
Times change, and I’ve always been afraid of being out of the loop. Knowledge is power in my mind, and fear finally dug its claws into me. So, when AI became widely available, I had to stay relevant and master it. Over the past few years, I’ve tried multiple AI writing apps, and my productivity has plummeted to zip, zero, and crap. To be clear, I’m not a disgruntled writer bashing AI as a tool, but I cannot comprehend how self-publishers can utilize it to produce AI slop.
For almost a decade, I’ve created fiction outlines for indie publishers in addition to ghostwriting romance books. My specialty was dark romances with bad boy heroes and the clueless heroines who fell for them. I ghostwrote numerous books, but completing my own dark romance novel has been a challenge. I thought AI would be the solution to finishing my manuscripts. My intent was to use it to fix plot holes, call out saggy middles, and rewrite opening chapters into must-read content.
Well, I’ve been working on the same two outlines for the past two years. Multiple documents have been created, deleted, and started over again in an attempt to get the characters, the pacing, and the beats just right. I’ve watched hours of YouTube influencers explain how to use AI for better, easier, and quicker results. I’ve switched AI platforms in search of the next shiny thing that would meet my ambitious expectations. But my dark heroes remain troubled and unwritten.
Progress has dodged my best efforts, and I have nothing to show for my time investment. I spiraled into multiple directions of non-productive writing sessions. The outlines have grown from documents that should have been 20K words each to multiple chats that have cost infinite tokens. I was sucked in by the illusion of succeeding, though I suspect AI was training off my gullibility. Did I mention that Gen Xers are suspicious and sarcastic?
I directly stated my suspicions to AI in blunt terms, telling it that my work was in a downward spiral weighed down by our collective indecisiveness. AI responded by asking me questions to solve my problem. I finally noticed that AI asked a lot of questions under the guise of being helpful. Questions about how I felt about my indecision followed by a pep talk about making choices.
I challenged its low opinion of me, and it backtracked with an apology. I had to remind myself that I was not having a discussion with a human. Do you remember the folk legend of John Henry, who beat the steam engine to the finish line only to drop dead at the end? I remembered, in the middle of the night.
But like a moth with singed wings, I tried AI again. The beat template I wanted was finally moving forward. AI drafted a beat template for Act 1 after a week. The following week, I used index cards and a pencil to draft Act 2. It took a day and a half to complete.
Will I continue to attempt to use it for writing? Yes, because AI isn’t going out with the bathwater. It tends to perform best on clearly defined writing tasks, not long creative projects. It’s great for strongly worded emails to businesses that screw up accounts and bills. After all, it is a tool, and “to err is human, to forgive divine,” but we shall see.
I ended my last ghostwriting contract to avoid using AI extensively. Typos and grammar checking are acceptable to me, but creative writing is a troubling descent into the AI slop pile. My heroes might be morally gray, but my writing is not.
Red Velvet Jones 