This post is Part 1 of a series.

As a writer, sometimes an idea or curiosity just pops into my awareness. Suddenly there’s something there that I want to explore, ponder, and think more about, something that wasn’t there a few moments before, or maybe was there in seed form but had yet to bloom. When this remarkable event happens, my habit for decades has been to take a walk with the idea, to live with it and let it marinate in me, become what it needs to become. I do my part by thinking about it, and I simultaneously get out of the way and let the mysterious energy that is creativity do its part; I allow the spark of curiosity to grow into a fire, which, truth be told, sometimes happens and sometimes doesn’t. Once my own ideas have had time to germinate and bloom a bit, I might look to external sources for other ways to think about the topic, and gather more information from writings and research that already exists.

How AI Alters the Writer’s Creative Process

What I’ve noticed, however, is that artificial intelligence (AI) has a sneaky capacity to alter the creative process in subtle but profound ways. The creative process, that of accompanying and nurturing—riding an idea from embryo to birth—has the potential to be infiltrated and already is being infiltrated by AI, and as a result, fundamentally changed. In my own writing, as soon as I allowed AI into the process, even in a small way, my creative process started to change, and as a result, my work was changing. But it wasn’t just the contents and focus of my work that was shifting; perhaps more importantly, it was my experience of the creative process—what it actually felt like to spend my days writing that was being negatively affected. As it turned out, bringing the limitless possibilities of AI into the mysterious and sacred process of creation was not a choice this writer was willing to make. The consequences were too dire.

At the most basic level, with the advent of AI, the order in which I did things was shifting. Rather than allowing an idea to marinate in me, sitting with it, walking with it, pondering it, letting the idea take me where it wanted to go, I had started to ask AI what I could or should do with my idea—what would be smart to do with it. I was effectively handing off ownership of my idea to my AI companion. What had been written before about my idea; what research was available; where had other people taken my topic; how had it been explored in the past? Essentially, what did we already think and know about my idea?

At a deeper level, I had shifted from being with the idea to doing something with it. My mind was back in the driver’s seat, and I was once again the doer of my life. The process itself had shifted from one of residing in the mystery, letting go and being taken, to one of mastering control and an exercise in mental gymnastics.

At a more subtle level, I had started to search for what was important to other people about my idea, what was worth exploring or pursuing and knowing more about. I had lost sight of what was important, meaningful and interesting—to me—about the idea. I was giving away not just my place as the creator, and not just the right to consult and follow my own curiosity, but also my very purpose in writing about it, why I found the idea compelling to start with—why it was worth my time. What resonated for me was replaced by the imposition of AI’s ideas, and with it, the possibility for something fresh and uniquely of-me emerging.

In my new AI-fueled process, the first step was to ask my artificial collaborator for a way of framing, organizing, and thinking about my idea; I discovered a host of interesting ways to approach my questions, a direct and well-charted path for my curiosity to follow, which was often through a lens I hadn’t considered or known existed. And indeed, I always learned something. In step two, stocked with my well-structured framework, topics to explore, and the map of my exploratory terrain, I then brought my particular voice and sensibility to the topics that AI had provided. I applied my unique experience, approach, and intelligence to AI’s ideas about my idea.

Emotional and Physical Effects of Using AI in Writing

My experience of the writing process, not surprisingly, also started to change. Investigating ChatGPT’s suggestions and ideas, my curiosity felt imprisoned, and the creative process itself felt constrained, kidnapped, and controlled. The experience of having a new idea I wanted to pursue and spend time with, which had previously felt like embarking on an adventure into the unknown and launching a process that would surprise (and maybe delight) me, had transformed into something that felt more like a book report, an assignment that I “should” write.

I went from feeling light and excited, in a new romance and discovery process with my idea, to feeling burdened and tangled up, with a lot of pressure in my head—in fact, the beginnings of a headache. Before consulting with AI, my curiosity had felt like an energy, zest, and buzzy-ness present throughout my whole body; with the addition of AI’s “help,” that same energy now felt fully concentrated in my head, and also heavier, less bubbly, and less spacious. I was no longer situated in my body but had moved back into and was now residing in my head. The article I would write now felt like something to mentally muscle my way through rather than something I wanted to inhabit and directly experience.

I’d gone from being a creator to being an editor; thanks to AI, I’d been provided with the particular clay from which to craft my “original” sculpture. A process that had felt like it required primarily listening—listening inside myself, listening to the silence—letting it inform me, now felt like one of commenting on, reporting, and developing what was already there.