Arran, where I am lucky enough to go on a writing retreat with four brilliant author friends. The surroundings always inspire. This is Glen Rosa.
I was at a meeting the other day. It was a roomful of lovely, interesting people, many of whom I talked with, many of whom told me fascinating stories – letting me catch a glimpse of their lives, of themselves.
Glenashdale Falls (Eas a’ Chrannaig), Arran. looking down is a little scary – but really gets the brain/ emotions working
But it was one man who I spoke with for a few minutes who has left me with an impression I wasn’texpecting … or needed, to be honest. He was asking about my creative writing class, and I was in my usual enthusiastic mood about the stories we all have within us, that everyone has a genre they can excel at, and how he would be so welcome to join our group – when he stopped my gallop (as my mother would say). He said that he really didn’t need or want to join in with a collection of people trying to write from their experiences in life. He knew all he had to do was to, “Put a few ideas into ChatGPT, take the story it produced, and tidy it up…” It was something he’d been doing for a while apparently. And it worked for him. When I asked how he “tidied the story up,” he looked blankly at me, and then said, “you should know, the punctuation etc.” It was the “etc” that told me that I should just smile and say something benign like, “okay. Or each to their own” or some such – and leave.
Tides out. Looking over towards Holy Island from Kingscross.
Instead I asked him what about all the different experiences we have as we move through life? The memories of the world at a certain time, of observed situations, of the people we met, lived alongside. Of our interpretation of all those things, and the way we reacted. Of using all of our five senses to bring a story to life, to hopefully evoke a response, a reaction to our reader?
On another trip to Arran, the Photographer and I were walking along a track with Mount GoatFell in the distance. The path became narrower and narrower – until we saw …
Whereupon I and Dusk, our gorgeous companion lent to us by our friend, refused to go any further.
Relaxing by the side of Loch Garbad after a bit of a trek from Eas Mor.
As I was speaking to the man I became aware of his smile growing wider. Now I swear it was a smirk (I was getting increasing frustrated inside by his calm indifference to my side of the discussion – and it was a discussion, not an argument – I learned the difference between them many years ago – see: https://tinyurl.com/yssmpde7. But my husband says the man’s smile was one of sympathy and understanding that I “simply don’t know how the world of writing works these days.” Yes, he did say that, obviously allowing that I was too old, was too set in my ways to accept the way things are now.
And yes, it still discourages me seeing his belief written here.
Giants Graves – above Whiting Bay.
But there is nothing I can do about that. So here I am, flogging away to get the right words to fit together to get the right ‘feeling’ in this part of the book I’m writing at the moment. Trying to bring a scene to life, using all that I have in me, all that I have experienced, learned, over the years. Using my imagination. And the fleeting moment of wondering if I’m wrong, that some inanimate object, ChatGPT, can do it better than me, is only that … a fleeting moment. Because there’s only me in my head, there are only my memories, my thoughts, my emotions in my brain.
My effort at a picture. Looking back at the steps from the Giants’ Graves, leaving the Photographer behind as he …
… disappears through the grass on the hill overlooking Whiting Bay – ever in the search for ‘the best shot’.
And if what I write, my stories, are not what some (or many) readers want, that’s okay. Because there are as many different readers as there are authors. It’s all subjective. And I know I won’t stop writing – because I can’t.
I should end this by saying I’m not judging; it’s not my place to judge anybody. And I’m not saying I’m right and it’s wrong to use ChatGPT. We all do things differently. I’m only saying it’s how I’ve always felt about my work, it’s how I write. I don’t judge.
I just wish that man hadn’t smirked at me. Despite what my husband says, I just know he smirked!!!
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I have written a few posts on our walks on Arran. I’ve included three here, if anyone is interested:
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Judith Barrow 
I suppose a smirk can convey the fact that someone has never felt the actual pleasure of writing. A sad deficiency.
You’re right, I guess, Thorne. But he was so self-satisfied!
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As long as he is happy with the output of ChatGPT, Judith, you do not need to concern yourself further. He might purely be putting something together for himself. If he is “writing” something for an audience however, it will be down to them to judge.
Although this reminds me that I should ask anyone who I produce a book for in the future if they have used ChatGPT!
I can see that smirk, btw. I’ve seen it on others…
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I’m afraid that’s made me surprisingly angry. I’d love to know his name so that I could see what readers made of his ChatGPT novels. As you say, you write with heart, imagination and experience. I love your books because of that – I feel like I understand the characters and what motivates them AI is probably using all those ‘robbed’ words from other books and stitching them together. xx
It completely floored me at first, Alex. Especially as he seemed quite proud of his ‘success’. And you are right to feel anger – I did as well. But it was the smirk… the smirk!!!😡 I appreciate your kind comment.
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your photos of Arran are fabulous and your thoughts right on. Thanks.
Thanks Darlene. 💜
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This is what makes me angry about ChatGPT. The fact someone can have it write a novel and then claim it as their own. This in not writing and I would tell that man he is not a writer. Just a human front for a computer program.
Speaking of Arran, you must know Barb Taub really well!
Hi Noelle … “I would tell that man he is not a writer…” was something akin to what I said – just not as polite.😮😊
And, yes, we’re fortunate enough to be friends with lovely Barb. And each year, with three other writers, she lets us join her at her home … sheer bliss! 💜
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Ignore the smirker; he’s irrelevant. He’s like those ‘artists’ who throw up an unmade bed, or a pile of bricks, or whatever, and say it’s art ‘because I say so’. It can’t compare to a work by one of the old masters who toiled for hours to create a face full of wrinkles that looks absolutely real. Compare the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel with a flyer printed by the thousand to advertise burgers? Your subjective experiences are of far more value than something churned out by a machine for someone who’s too lazy to actually put in the work. Your writing is about more than just getting readers or making money; you get a great deal from the process of writing, enjoyment, therapy, the buzz of creatiivity, so enjoy it and forget this empty-headed supercilious ‘mansplainer’. Have a good week. 🙂
Ah, lovely comforting words. Thank you so much, Laura, it’s appreciated. nd I know you’re right.💜 Hope your week is good as well. x
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It’s a problem in all areas of writing, Judith. What scares me is the number of my students who use ChatGPT to write their papers for them. How they will develop their own critical thinking and discussion skills, I don’t know. It depresses me to think that not only is authentic creative writing becoming swamped by AI generated books, but the thinking capacity of young people is diminishing. What that will mean for the future, I dread to think.
I know, Val. It is so worrying. Our grandchildren are the same. It’s as though they can’t strust their own brains, thoughts, judgments. It does feel as though individualism is being stripped away. Thanks for your comment, it’s lovely to hear from you. x
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By the way, your photos are very lovely! Arran looks wonderful!
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I can’t imagine someone admitting to the crime of defrauding readers. I hope he label his books as AI generated.
The rouble is, John, he didn’t think it was defrauding, he thought he was using what is accepted these days to write a story. And that I was old fashioned.😑
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Well Judith my hats off to you for not wiping that smirk of his face… I do understand that when perhaps researching or working on ideas it is useful to have a programme which can throw suggestions at you but really there is nothing like another sentient being looking over your work rather than a robot. The same goes as you say for writing a story. Even in fantasy our experiences in life play a role and whatever the genre the emotional element is key to connecting with the reader. Your books touch our hearts and don’t ever doubt your impact on our lives… ♥♥
Thank you, Sally, you’re very kind. I did find it a bit dispiriting – and frustrating, I must admit💜💜
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I agree, Sally! xx
Well, I knew he was wrong, both. Even though he irritated – I knew he was a ninny (as my mum would say). Not sure why a lot of my mother’s sayings comes to mind these days.😊💜
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And I meant to say as well.. fabulous photos.. ♥
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Terrific post, dear Judith!
In the future, with all originality, independent thought and creativity destroyed as future generations are fully wired up to 6G, AI, the hive mind, etc, I am sure that these horrible tools will be all that is required to produce a story – not a novel, because future attention spans will be way too short!
Meanwhile, I admire your restraint!!! And I love the pictures 🙂
Thanks Terry, I know you’ll recognise Unfortunately I think you may be right, unless something drastic happens. But as long as you keep writing your excellent books, we’ll all have something to look forward to. I know you’ll recognise most of the Arran photos – do hope you make it this time – I’ll miss all the great chat and advice you share. 💜
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Beautifully said in a forever changing world, great photos do have to admit the world is beautiful thank you for sharing Judith.
Thank you, Paul. Sometimes we go around with our minds and eyes closed. Moments, such as meeting this man so convinced in his own ideas, and then seeing the world around in our photographs, balances things out. 😊
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I can understand using ChatGPT and the like to create forms and repetitive stuff that does not require much creativity, but, what is the point in asking it to write a book? If you don’t want to do the writing, don’t. It would be sad if somebody read one of those books and decided that was the usual standard and it put them off reading. But, yes, it should be mentioned that AI has been used to create those “books” for lack of a better word. Lovely pictures, Judith.
Thanks for being here and adding your comments, Olga. It was quite a dispiriting conversation with the man, especially as he completely dismissed my words. So glad you like the photographs, my husband loves taking them wherever we walk. It seems we walk more than ever these days, which means I don’t write as much as I used to. 💜
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Hi Judith. The fact that the man openly admitted what he does is even sad. Unfortunately, there are many doing same, putting out either shyte or stealing words from other writers. It’s those kind of fake writers that give Indies a bad name. It’s a brutal world. Beautiful photos though, lol. Hugs xo
Hi Debby, it’s a strange world that’s evolving in literature and writing, and I think it’s sad – well it makes me sad, anyway. I’ve struggled in it, and he made me feel quite foolish that I was still trying in the ‘old-fashioned’ way. So glad you liked David, husband’s photos though.They are genuine enough. Much love.💜💜
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