Just over a decade ago, I published my first novel. Re-reading it now, it feels like ancient history. The main characters read newspapers, visit internet cafes and carry phones that allow them to do nothing more than call or text. There is no global pandemic, there are no smartphones, and no one is thinking about AI.
Writing that book was a difficult, frustrating and time-consuming experience. It was also not a particularly rewarding one, at least not financially. Novel writing is one of those things where a few make a fortune, a few make a living, and most make nothing at all. Unfortunately, I fell much closer to category number three than I did to category number one.
No matter how you cut it, the reward didn’t come close to matching the effort. And, with a growing business and growing family to distract me over the intervening years, I haven’t written another novel since.
Enter AI
ChatGPT’s arrival in November 2022 promised the potential to redress that balance. The new AI-powered ‘neutral language model'’, as its creators call it, offered to write whatever you wanted, so long as you gave it the right information and instructions.
As its name implies, ChatGPT works through typed conversations. You ask it a question, and it answers. You ask it to do something, and it does it.
I’d already played around with ChatGPT a lot, getting it to write poetry (it is particularly adept at Haikus), SEO copy and even blog articles. But what I really wanted it to do was to take the pain away from writing another book. So this time, I began typing in its dialogue box with a new sense of purpose.
“I want you to help me write a novel. Do you understand?” I asked.
“Yes, I understand. I can help you write a novel by generating text based on your prompt or providing suggestions on character development, plot, dialogue, setting, and more,” ChatGPT responded.
“However, keep in mind that as a language model, my abilities are limited and the final product will be a result of our collaboration. To start, what is the general theme or idea you have in mind for the novel?”
“It's a story of heartache and tragedy but ultimately redemption,” I typed back. “The main character is a professional copywriter. He has been working hard for a decade and seems on the brink of a big promotion. However, AI intervenes and takes his job. Do you understand?”
ChatGPT assured me it did.
Our collaboration begins…
ChatGPT then proceeded to offer me potential storylines. The first involved the copywriter joining a support group for people who had lost their jobs at the hands of AI. The second had him turning to a life of volunteering (and, assumingly, unemployment) to find meaning and purpose. The third revolved around him abusing alcohol, falling out with his wife and then seeking help before recovering his marriage.
The fourth and final suggested storyline ended with the copywriter being given a second chance after a small business owner hired him to write his marketing materials. Something that would be lucky to pay a couple of thousand dollars.
“With this new opportunity, the copywriter is able to rediscover his love for writing and use his skills to make a positive impact on others,” ChatGPT enthused.
“Perhaps we should just begin by writing the story and worry about the plot lines later,” I typed back, and ChatGPT agreed.
I was excited. “OK then, let’s begin this writing journey together,” I typed. “I think the first chapter should begin with the copywriter. Let’s call him Kip. He’s at home with his wife. Can you suggest a name for her? Also, I'd like you to suggest the kind of home an up-and-coming copywriter might keep.”
ChatGPT took a while to process my requests before springing to life again to suggest that we call Kip’s wife, Rachel. Then it gave me its preferred start to the book:
Kip and Rachel sat in their cozy living room, surrounded by the sleek and stylish furnishings they had carefully selected to reflect their successful and ambitious lifestyle. As a successful copywriter, Kip had worked hard for a decade and was on the brink of a big promotion. He had just returned from a long day at the office, where he had been putting the final touches on a high-stakes presentation.
Rachel smiled at him, noticing the look of pride and accomplishment on his face. "You're going to nail it tomorrow," she said, reaching for his hand. Kip grinned, feeling grateful for her unwavering support. They talked about their plans for the future, dreaming of starting a family and traveling the world together.
Just as they were getting lost in their plans, Kip's phone buzzed with an urgent message from his boss. He frowned, feeling a sinking feeling in his stomach as he read the news. The company was turning to AI technology for their copywriting needs, and Kip’s job was no longer needed. The life he had worked so hard to build was slipping away, and Kip was left to pick up the pieces.
Ironing out the initial creases
“Hang on, that's a bit too obvious,” I typed. “We need to set the scene better. Also, maybe we don't introduce the AI so early in the piece. Let's build up to that.”
“For instance, it could be early morning,” I continued. “Maybe Kip is saying goodbye to Rachel. Also, it would be a pretty lame novel if we didn't describe anything at all. Let’s mention a bit about their home, for instance. Do you understand?”
“Yes, I understand,” ChatGPT assured me again. “Here’s a revised first chapter.”
The next version ChatGPT provided was largely the same as the previous one. Only this time, the writing was riddled with adjectives so that it sounded more like a property description than the prose of a novel. We were told that: “Personal touches, such as family photos and sentimental trinkets, were scattered throughout the space to make it feel like a true home.” We were also twice told that the streets below were bustling and that Kip and Rachel’s wall-to-ceiling windows offered “stunning” views of them.
Already, I admit, I was growing a little frustrated, but I pushed on regardless. I asked ChatGPT to provide more detail and fewer adjectives. I asked it to include something about the smell of Rachel’s hair and the brand of the furnishings in their home because these would give readers some insight into the couple’s values. I also asked it to name the area where the couple lived and pleaded with it to cut its flowery words.
Then, after seven attempts and substantial intervention from my end, we arrived at what I thought was a pretty solid start to the book.
Kip Hernandez leaned down to kiss his wife Rachel goodbye, breathing in the scent of her shampoo.
The morning sun was just starting to filter into their Greenpoint apartment. The home was simple and uncluttered, with furnishings Rachel had carefully selected from West Elm to complement the open floor plan. A loungeroom photo showed Kip and Rachel smiling on their wedding day; another remembered their trip to Hawaii five years ago.
"Good luck today," Rachel said as Kip gathered things and headed to the door.
“This is pretty good,” I told ChatGPT. “Can you see what kind of writing I like from these paragraphs and how it's different from your first effort?”
“Yes, I can see that you prefer a more minimalistic and straightforward writing style, without excessive adjectives and descriptions,” it replied. “The focus is on the events and interactions of the characters, with simple and direct language.”
“Exactly,” I agreed.
Moving along
I told ChatGPT that I wanted Kip to work in a Manhattan agency. Having only been to New York twice in my life (and one of those times was as a nine-year-old child), I did some quick Google research and suggested that his work could be located near Spring Street station. I also told it that we should let readers know that Kip had been a copywriter for over a decade and was unaware that he was about to be replaced.
This time, ChatGPT paused for what seemed like an eternity before spitting out words again.
Kip stepped out of the apartment and took the elevator down to the street. It was a beautiful day in Greenpoint, a trendy neighbourhood in New York. Kip worked at a successful advertising agency in midtown and was proud of the long hours he put in. He had been at the agency for 10 years and was on the brink of a big promotion.
However, little did he know that his world was about to be turned upside down. Artificial intelligence was making rapid advances, and companies were starting to realize the cost savings it offered. Kip's job, along with many others at the agency, was soon to be replaced by a computer program. But for now, Kip walked the bustling streets, unaware of the storm clouds gathering on the horizon.
“Hang on, hang on. It feels like you're on the side of AI here,” I typed. “Kip is meant to be the hero.”
“I apologise for giving the wrong impression,” ChatGPT replied. “I'm a neutral language model and do not have personal opinions. My purpose is to assist and write according to your instructions. Please let me know how you would like the story to progress and I'll make sure to follow your guidelines.”
Again I told ChatGPT that we didn’t need to mention AI just yet - and that we definitely shouldn’t highlight its benefits. Then I showed it how we could salvage the first paragraph. After a bit more back-and-forthing, we ended up with what I thought were some more good words for our fourth paragraph.
He rode the elevator down to street level and began his walk to the subway, just as he had every working day for almost a decade. The sun shone brightly for November, and Kip momentarily allowed himself to believe this was a harbinger of news on his promotion.
“Do you see how this is very different from your first effort and that we're allowing the reader to make their own inferences rather than describing everything?” I asked.
“Yes, I understand that you prefer a more concise and subtle writing style, allowing the reader to make their own inferences and use their own imagination to fill in the details, rather than describing everything explicitly. I will keep this style in mind while continuing to write.”
“Great,” I typed, and I asked it to write a scene with Kip arriving at work.
Then the wheels began to fall off again…
Owls, Romans and the absent coffee vendor
I suggested to ChatGPT that, in this scene, we should include an omen that things weren’t quite right, and I asked it if it could think of anything. It considered my request momentarily and then gave me its recommendation.
As Kip walked towards the advertising agency where he worked, he noticed that the street vendor who sold him coffee every morning was not there. He shrugged it off, but a feeling of unease lingered. The usually bustling city felt quieter and the clouds overhead were starting to darken.
“Look,” I typed. “We’ve already said the sun was shining brightly, so this is inconsistent with the story so far. Also, I’m not sure the absence of a coffee vendor is enough to create unease.”
“How about adding the following,” it shot back.
As Kip walked to the agency, he noticed that the street vendor who usually sold coffee on the corner was missing. He felt a twinge of unease, but quickly shrugged it off as he stepped into the bustling agency building.
By now, I was getting cranky. “FFS,” I wrote.
“I apologize if my previous answers have not met your expectations,” ChatGPT replied. “How can I better assist you with your writing task?”
“Let’s just forget the coffee vendor,” I said. “Perhaps we could use a literary device that hints at bigger things. For instance, weren’t owls considered a bad omen by the Romans?”
It tried another time.
At Spring Street, Kip pushed his way out of the train and joined the stream of commuters. As he emerged from the subway onto Sixth Avenue, he noticed an owl perched atop a nearby building, hooting mournfully. Kip couldn't shake the feeling that this was an omen of something to come, though he wasn't sure what. He quickened his pace, eager to get to the ad agency where he worked, but the ominous hoot of the owl stayed with him.
“Again, you’re being far too obvious,” I snapped.
“Understood,” ChatGPT replied. “How about this?”
Kip walked down Sixth Avenue, a sudden gust of wind blew a discarded newspaper against his legs. It was a small thing, easily brushed aside, but it was enough to make Kip pause and consider the day ahead.
I told it that we should stick to the owl and that being brushed by a piece of discarded newspaper was perhaps too obscure to be considered an omen. Besides, did anyone read newspapers anymore? I also suggested that rather than making the owl the centre of the scene, perhaps it could be something Kip could just notice. Maybe it could even be an image on a sign or cup or something.
“Do you get where I’m heading with this?” I asked, and ChatGPT tried again.
Kip walked down Sixth Avenue. He saw an owl on a sign, a symbol of bad omens to the Romans. The owl's presence made him feel uneasy, though he couldn't say why. He walked on, towards his agency.
“,” I replied.
“I'm sorry if I've made mistakes with the writing style you've asked for,” it apologised. “Can you please provide clearer instructions and I'll do my best to follow them.”
Sorting it out
After some more back and forthing - and a little scolding on my part - I asked ChatGPT if it was familiar with Ernest Hemingway. It agreed that it was and that it would write the remainder of the novel in a style akin to his works. It even said that it understood style guides and seemed pleased when I cut and pasted the Kansas City Star Style Guide (the same style guide Hemingway adhered to as a young reporter) into the dialogue box.
I then suggested that we rewrite the scene about Kip leaving the station and going to work and that we should mention that Kip was sweating. This, I told it, would create ambiguity in the mind of readers because they wouldn’t know whether Kip’s sweat was the result of the warmer-than-usual November weather, or whether it was him literally sweating on news of his promotion. Eventually, we agreed on our next paragraph.
At Spring Street, Kip pushed his way out of the train and joined the swarm of commuters on the platform. As he emerged onto Sixth Avenue, a bead of sweat formed under his scarf. Walking down the busy street, he noticed an owl perched on a traffic light. He had never seen an owl before, let alone in the city. "It must have confused day and night," Kip said to himself as he studied the bird's unsettling stillness.
Five paragraphs in, several thousand to go…
My work so far has taken several hours and a lot of editing on my part. But does that mean it wasn’t worth it? Should I just give up already?
I’m not so sure.
By nature, I’m an optimist, and - when we finally did get there together, the writing was pretty good. Perhaps now that ChatGPT and I have built a relationship and my instructions are getting better, it will be able to help me put together that next book.
In the meantime, what I would say is this. ChatGPT is not creative, and we shouldn’t expect it to be. By its very nature, it takes in a lot of information, synthesises it and regurgitates it back to you. It’s incapable of truly original prose (although, as I already said, its haikus are pretty damn good).
In its current guise, ChatGPT requires substantial human intervention, at least if you have any kind of commitment to quality. Instead of hoping for it to be a saviour that will write for you, you really need to see it as a partner - a tool for suggesting ideas or thrashing out the first draft of something. But as a workshopping collaborator, it’s unfailingly polite and happy to keep re-working your prose and ideas patiently - characteristics I’ve never found in any human partner.
And it seems much better suited to short, routine, factual writing than it is to creative prose. Although you will need to fact-check it.
This may save you time, but it may not. It may lead to better writing, but it may not.
You will also need to edit its work, potentially quite heavily. You may need to ask it to write for you many times before you’re even close to happy with what it gives you. And you will need to curb what seems to be its natural instincts - overwritten prose, dubious plot lines, and a propensity to point out the bleeding obvious.
Then again, many editors will complain that these are exactly the same problems they struggle with from human writers. So maybe it’s not that different from us after all…
When he is not writing novels with ChatGPT, Ralph Grayden runs Antelope Media, a Sydney-based copywriting and content agency