“Coral” is on the record as saying,
“If I can generate a book in a day, and you need six months to write a book, who’s going to win the race?” she said.
To which I say this. If there is a race, dahling, then I HAVE ALREADY WON IT because without stealing all the stuff I’ve ever written (and I know they have I have seen the lists) you couldn’t have even left the starting blocks. You have never written a word. You have “generated” pure unadulterate (and stolen) slop.
The end of this “race” is potentially unspeakable. People who get forcefed your slop might get turned off reading altogether. In which case they will stop reading… everything. Your slop included, milady. There goes your goddamn cash cow. And its price will have only been the creative soul of humanity.
Stories are not “content”. They are created out of a human mind, a human heart, a human soul. All AI can do is regurgitate that into pablum but if it doesn’t exist… FIRST… then AI has nothing to work with at all. As I said, if there’s a race, I’ve already won it – I am a writer, and I have written, and i have “generated” nothing that is not my own. I have worked and paid dues to have my name on that book cover. You, with your AI “generated” slop, have not. AI work can’t even be copyrighted.
You, “Coral”, are not a writer. No matter what you tell yourself, you never will be.
NEVER.
Wendig says it so much more perfectly than I currently can:
“And they don’t even want to be writers. Because if they wanted to be writers, guess what? They’d fucking write! They’d want to write! Because writing, even on the worst day, the hardest day, is glorious. Even when the words suck and you break your teeth from grinding them so hard, it’s still a powerful, formative experience where you take all that you know and have been and have dreamed and are afraid of — you take all of that and you turn it into something else. You crystallize it. You coalesce it. You turn all this stuff that exists invisibly in your mind and make it visible on the page, inventing new people and new worlds and strange situations and you reach for revelations about love and hate and jealousy and all the ideas both big and small. You take nothing and you make something.
So powerful.
But AI acolytes don’t do any of that.”
AMEN, my brother. Preach.
Please, go read Chuck Wendig’s whole rant. It’s a thing of beauty
And then go and do something else. Go buy a book an actual book, a book written and edited and formatted and designed and MADE by real humans, people the imprints of whose hands and minds and hearts you can see on every page, in every wordl Leave us a review. As Chuck said, “Make us humans happy, please and thank you.”
If there is a race, as I said, I and people like me – the people who write, the people who have written, the people who live with and love words like friends and lovers and children, the people in whom a true story fountain exists and from which they gather their tales with what is sometimes a leaky colander and try and make sense out of it all and then share the final perfect (or at least as good as we can make it) jewel of it with you – those people – we were already here. We’ve always been here. We do not need to “race” at all. And least of all do we need to race with people who do not even understand that there is no race.
Read Real Books Written By Real People.
Please.
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