In recent years, artificial intelligence has made its mark on many industries, from healthcare to finance, but one of the most striking developments is its encroachment on the world of creative writing. As AI systems like ChatGPT become more advanced, the boundaries between human and machine-generated content blur. We’re left wondering, are we witnessing the dawn of a new creative era, or are we simply setting ourselves up for an intellectual shortcut that could undermine the craft of storytelling?

The impact of AI on literature, journalism, and speculative fiction is already apparent. Authors are using AI as a tool to assist with everything from generating ideas to drafting full-length novels. While this opens up exciting possibilities for writers who may struggle with writer’s block, it also raises a host of questions about authenticity. Can a machine, devoid of lived experience, truly capture the nuances of human emotion or the subtleties of cultural context? AI may be adept at mimicking patterns of language, but does it understand the story it tells? And even more importantly, does it feel the story?

Journalism, a field traditionally built on human insight and investigative rigor, is also seeing a dramatic shift. AI-driven tools can now write articles with stunning speed, churning out copy on everything from politics to sports. The convenience is undeniable. Newsrooms, under pressure from tight deadlines and dwindling resources, find AI a helpful ally in meeting the demand for continuous content. But there’s a worrying undercurrent here: Can we trust a machine to provide the nuanced, ethical, and context-rich reporting that we need in an increasingly complex world? The thought of an algorithm determining what’s “newsworthy” is chilling, particularly when considering how data-driven models often fail to detect or represent bias, or how they may inadvertently amplify misinformation.

Perhaps the most exciting, and also the most concerning, role AI is playing is in speculative fiction. Writers have long used the genre to explore what might happen in the future, and with AI capable of generating entire worlds and characters in minutes, the scope for innovation is limitless. But there’s a risk that AI-generated speculative fiction will end up being more formulaic than fantastic. If every story is based on pre-existing patterns or data sets, will we lose the very essence of speculative fiction – the wild, unexpected ideas that challenge our assumptions about the world? The creative chaos that makes the genre so thrilling could give way to an artificial predictability that lacks true human imagination.

At the heart of these concerns is the broader issue of creativity itself. Writing, like all art, is a deeply personal expression. It reflects the writer’s experiences, their worldview, their struggles. Can an AI, which operates purely on patterns and algorithms, truly replicate this? Even if it can produce a perfectly structured story, does it have the soul that comes from a human hand? There is something to be said for the imperfections in art – the missed commas, the stray metaphors, the oddities that make it feel real. AI, by its very nature, smooths out those edges.

At this point I should perhaps clarify my own use of AI tools. I am a storyteller by nature, and this blog is only one of many creative outlets.  I tend to use AI in a consistent manner – for researching a topic when I feel I need more information, and then to edit my first rough draft. I always edit/rewrite my published work as I find AI to have questionable grammar and horrible punctuation. If this changes, I will write a piece about it, and mention my new process in the About section.

So, as we hurtle toward this AI-infused future, we must ask ourselves, what is the value of a story? Is it the perfect sentence, the perfect insight, or is it the unique perspective of the person telling it? AI is undoubtedly changing the landscape of creative writing, but whether it enriches or diminishes the craft remains to be seen. As writers, readers, and cultural observers, it’s essential that we hold onto the human essence of storytelling – because once we lose that, we may never get it back.