AI-Assisted Writing: Why Write a Novel with AI?

One of the things about AI-assisted writing that has really surprised me is how resistant other writers can be to the very idea of using AI in their creative writing process. Here in Utah valley, there’s a large enough writing community that we occasionally get together for an informal meetup over lunch, and every time I’ve brought up the subject, I could almost see the fists come up. At one of our local writing conventions, Writer’s Cantina, I was on a panel about AI-assisted writing… and there were maybe only four people in the audience (and one of them was my wife!)

It’s a shame, because I really do think that generative AI is going to transform the way we write everything, from emails and reports to blog posts, long-form essays, and yes, even fiction. It’s only a matter of time. AI is gradually being worked into the apps and programs we all use to write, and as people become more comfortable with it in other aspects of their lives, they’re going to start using it to write fiction—and that’s okay! Almost all of the resistance is based on ignorance and fear, not a clear-eyed understanding of how these AI tools actually work.

As someone who remembers the days when “self-published” was very much a dirty word—in fact, many people considered it the kiss of death to ever having a professional writing career—it very much feels like we’re repeating the whole tradpub vs. indie wars of the early 2010s, just over the issue of AI-assisted writing. The biggest difference is that the internet is 10x more toxic than it used to be, probably because of how polarized and partisan our world has become in general. But other than that, it’s like we’re only a year or two away from an AI-assisted author having a massive breakout and proving that you can write with AI and be a success, the way Amanda Hocking proved that you can self-publish and be a success.

So why should writers consider writing a novel with AI? One of the things I hear a lot from other writers is “I enjoy the writing process too much to ever consider using an AI to help me write.” Which is fine, I guess, if you’re writing just for yourself and maybe your own family. But if writing is your career, or something you hope to turn into a career, why wouldn’t you want to experiment with AI-assisted writing? After all, if you refuse to even experiment with it, how can you possibly know that it won’t improve your process in some way? And if it can improve your process and give you a competitive edge, isn’t that reason enough to try?

Here is what I’ve found after a year and a half of experimenting with AI-assisted writing:

In the old days, it would take me anywhere from six months to several years to write a novel. Now, I can write a novel-length work in about 1-3 months.

Before, I would hit a patch of writer’s block in the middle of almost every project, leading to weeks (and sometimes months) of agonizing frustration and crippling self-doubt. Now, because of AI, I can step back far enough to see the forest from the trees and identify all of the major story issues before they become creative blocks—and generate a rough draft in about a week.

Before, whenever I would come up with a great new story idea while in the middle of another project, I would have to suppress my enthusiasm for that idea or risk having it derail everything I was working on. Now, I finish my projects fast enough that that generally isn’t a problem—and even if it is, it only takes a day or two of chasing that idea to satisfy the creative itch, and either trunk the idea entirely or turn it into a new project to work on later.

Before, my biggest limitation was my ability to turn ideas into words. Now, with a few clicks, I can generate all the words I could possibly need, and the biggest limiting factor is my ability to stay true to my own creative vision.

It’s a completely different paradigm, with a totally new skillset and a very long (and at times somewhat steep) learning curve—and that’s probably the real reason why most writers are so reluctant to experiment with it. But is it really worth it? The only way to find out is to make the leap. For the last 18 months, I’ve been making that leap, and even though I have yet to feel like I’ve mastered AI-assisted writing, I’ve already seen enough to believe that it is.

How Not To Write An AI-Assisted Novel

The worst way to write a novel with generative AI is to make the AI do all the work.

In fact, thinking of it in terms of “how much of the work can I get the AI to do?” is pretty much guaranteed to give you a really crappy book by the end of it. The AI’s job isn’t to “do the work,” any more than a power tool’s job is to build a house. You do the work. AI is just a tool to multiply your efforts.

But let’s take a step back. Who am I to talk about all of this? My name is Joe Vasicek, and I’m an indie author who’s been writing and publishing regularly since 2011. At this point, I have several dozen novels under my belt, including about half a dozen AI-assisted novels, the first of which is published under my Joe Vasicek pen here on this blog. Also, my wife is a PhD student and research assistant who works with generative AI and large language models. Her thesis is on using generative AI to create interactive cross references for any body of text, customized to the user. We talk a lot about generative AI and share what we’ve learned, so we’re both fairly knowledgeable on the subject.

At this point, it’s still very much the wild west of writing with AI-assistance. The technology is new enough that there really are no experts on the subject, though I expect that that will change rapidly over the next few years. And while I can’t (yet) say that I’ve made gazillions of $$$$ from my AI writing methods, I can say that I’m one of the first professional writers to develop a method for writing with AI-assistance.

And that’s not a boast. Whenever I get together with other writers, I wish there were more of them (really, any of them) that I could talk with about this stuff. There are some online communities that come at it more from the AI side than the professional writing side, and I probably ought to spend more time in those, because it’s probably only a matter of time before one of them has a runaway bestseller and shakes up the publishing industry in the same way that Amanda Hocking shook things up when the indie publishing revolution was just getting underway.

Maybe that someone will be you. Who knows? We’re still very much in the wild west of AI writing, and probably will be for a while.

It’s that very loneliness that makes me want to blog about AI-assisted writing—that, and the fact that I’m still trying to figure it out for myself, so I would love to hear what’s working for other writers. But one thing that I’ve learned from my own experience is that the worst way to write an AI-assisted novel is to dump all the work on the AI and expect anything good to come out.

The main reason for this is that LLMs and generative AI do not think—at least, not in any meaningful way that’s similar to the way you and I think. Instead, these models analyze human language for patterns, and replicate those patterns according to the parameters and instructions give by the user. It’s much closer to how your phone is able to predict your next word when you go to write a text, except that instead of writing the next word, ChatGPT or Sudowrite or whatever LLM you happen to be using is instead predicting the next 5-10 paragraphs.

So really, it’s not very useful to think of an AI as being able to “write” anything. Instead, it’s much more useful to think of it as “simulating” the thing that you’ve told it to write, or producing a simulation of the kind of work that a human would produce, given your parameters and instructions. The AI isn’t “doing the work” for you, it’s merely simulating the end product of that work. You still have to make it your own.

And how do you make it your own? Personally, I’ve found that the best way to do that is to open up a new document on my second monitor and type it all out by hand, occasionally referring to the AI-generated text when I don’t know what to write next, but largely trusting in myself to create the real, non-simulated draft. No copy-pasting! The mental exercise of writing it all out, word for word, stimulates something in the creative mind, and in most cases I end up writing something completely different, using the simulated version of the novel merely as a stepping stone.

So why do I go through all the trouble of generating a whole novel, when I’m probably going to throw out most of that text anyway? That’s a very good question—so good, in fact, that it needs to be the subject of its own post.

If you’re thinking of self publishing, read this. All of it.

I just read a fascinating Q&A on Reddit with Hugh Howey, author of the self-published phenomenon Wool.  After six trancelike hours reading through all the comments, all I can say is “wow.”

Okay, I guess I can say a little more.  Yesterday, I listened to Brandon Sanderson’s lecture on self-publishing from his English 318 class this year.  While I agree with much of what he says, a lot of it is already out of date.  Probably the biggest thing is whether it’s still advantageous for indies to go with a traditional publisher after making a name for themselves.  In 2011, Amanda Hocking had some good reasons for going traditional.  In 2012, Hugh Howey has some very good reasons not to.

The other big thing, though, is this idea of author platform–that to be a successful indie, you have to find some way to drive large numbers of people to your books.  Well, not necessarily.  Hugh Howey was a nobody for three years, and the title that finally pushed him over the tipping point was the one he promoted the least.  To me, that shows:

  1. current sales are not a predictor of future sales, and
  2. a great book will grow into its audience independent of its author.

Granted, there may be a threshold that needs to be crossed before word-of-mouth really starts to kick in, but if a nobody with passable cover art and no author platform can cross it, that threshold isn’t very high–and that’s good news for all of us.

The way I see it, there are three big myths that writers struggle with in making the shift from traditional to indie publishing:

1) The flood of crap books will keep you from getting noticed

This grows out of the paradigm of limited shelf space–that the best way to get noticed is to have your book occupy more space relative to all the other books on the shelf.  This might be true in the brick and mortar world, but the rules are much different in the digital realm.

Think about it: how many new blogs are launched every single day?  Thousands, if not hundreds of thousands.  And yet people still find the good content amid the sea of crap.  On Youtube, an average of one hour of video content is uploaded every single second.  And yet there are still entertainers making a lot of money through their Youtube channels.

The rules in the digital realm are completely different from everything in the physical world.  Figuring that out requires a huge paradigm shift, one that even indie writers struggle with.

2) Publishing a book is an event that must be promoted

This grows out of the paradigm of velocity, or as Kris Rusch puts it, the “produce model” of publishing:

Every month publishing comes out with brand new product. Shelf space is limited in every single brick-and-mortar bookstore.  Big Publishing makes the bulk of its money during the first few months of a book’s existence.  So if a book sits on a bookstore’s shelf until the book sells and that sale takes six months to a  year, the bookstore and the publisher lose money.

Better to dump the old inventory on a monthly basis—for full credit for unsold items—than it is to have the inventory sit on the shelves and grow “stale.”

Of course, the flaw in this logic is that digital shelf space is unlimited, therefore books do not “spoil.” No matter how much time passes, an ebook can still be found in the same place.

Therefore, does it really make sense to make a big deal over an indie book release?  Maybe to jump start some word-of-mouth, but it’s not like your career is going to be harmed if you do nothing.  In fact, it might be better to hold off until you have a few more titles up, so that when you give the first one that push, readers will have something else to read once they’ve finished it.

3) To succeed you need to find a way to “break in”

This grows out of the gatekeeper paradigm, where the system is closed and the few entry points are guarded by a select group of taste makers whose job is to bestow legitimacy on those who meet the qualifications to get in.  It’s the concept of patronage, where success comes from being chosen by a wealthy benefactor, and it’s connected with the idea that you haven’t truly “arrived” until <fill in the blank>.

The flaw with this paradigm, of course, is that publishing is no longer a closed system.  The gates haven’t just been flung open, the walls themselves have been torn down.  The job of the taste makers is no longer to protect readers from the dross, but to lead them to the gems–which is honestly much closer to what it should have been in the first place.

So what does this mean for creators?  It means that there’s no longer a system to break into.  You don’t need to write better than everyone else, you just need to find (and keep) your 1,000 true fans.  Success isn’t bestowed upon you by some higher authority, it’s something that you discover on your own as you hone your craft and build your business.

Honestly, this is one that I still have a lot of trouble with.  When I left to teach English in Georgia, in the back of my mind I had this vague notion that I was going into a self-imposed exile, and wouldn’t come back or settle down until I’d “broken in.” Of course, this made me quite discouraged, because it felt like things were out of my control–or worse, that I’d somehow failed.

But listening to Brandon’s lecture and reading Howey’s Q&A session helped me to remember that it’s all still in my control.  I don’t need a benefactor, I just need a good plan, if that makes any sense.  So right now, I’m thinking things through and making the necessary revisions to that plan.  There probably won’t be any big ones–I still think I’m more or less on the right track–but it will be good to update my paradigm.

By the way, the title of this post applies to the Q&A with Hugh Howey, not to the post itself.  Though if you are thinking of self publishing, I hope it’s helped out in some way.

Also, I just finished part I of Wool, and it deserves every bit of praise that it’s got.  Expect to see a review of the omnibus shortly.