What I think.
So, I was having a bit of a chat with ChatGPT about editing. While asking for advice on some of my work, I noticed a pattern—something I’d seen before, and even discussed with various AIs.
So there was some back and forth about my writing, and I let an AI rewrite one of my short stories. Then I got another AI to compare one version (the AI version) against mine.
The result was eye-opening. The AI-rewritten version, while stronger, tighter, and with better flow, had lost something. So I asked it, what should I take from my self-edited version and add to the sleek AI version? And what it said was surprising. It picked out certain lines and scenes that one AI decided could be dropped or trimmed, but this AI said I should pick them up and put them back in.
This led to a long conversation about my voice versus what the general AI landscape suggests, and what is commercially prevalent.
Below is the AI-generated summary and details of that long conversation. So these are not my words, but they carry my sentinet 100%.
I’m not in this for the fame, fortune or the money. I’ve suddenly discovered I like writing. But I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t have money for a ‘real’ human editor, so I use what I have access to – some AIs.
The message here is this: Write what you want, how you want. Get an editor, human or not, to suggest how to improve what you’ve made. Make some changes. But most importantly, learn.
Don’t follow everything they say. Stand up for yourself, pick what you want to change. And you don’t feel it, or don’t like it, simply don’t do it.
I’m not a great writer, but I enjoy it. AI may not be a great editor, but I like working with it. You just need to remember that you are in control.
A theme that runs through my work – be true to yourself.
Below is the summary of my conversation with a lot of additional coaching and context provided by me. 🙂
The modern fantasy landscape is vast. There are fast-paced sagas, gritty epics, romantasy empires, and books released at a pace I can hardly keep track of. I’ve read a lot of fantasy over the years, old and new, but I’ll be honest: I often feel that much of today’s output has become part of a commercial machine. Stories shaped to hit trends, meet deadlines, and satisfy algorithms. Books crafted with clear professionalism—but also with a sense of production-line polish.
This isn’t a criticism. Many writers make a living this way, and I respect the craft behind it. But it also means that what I write—and why I write—sits somewhere else entirely.
In One Sentence
My voice is emotionally honest, mythic-leaning, character-driven, raw around the edges in a deliberate way, immersive rather than minimalist, and distinct enough to stand out in a market saturated with over-polished fantasy.
1. My Perspective on Commercial Fantasy
I don’t pretend to be an expert on the publishing world or recent trends. I only know what I feel as a reader.
Commercial fantasy, especially in recent years, often seems designed for maximum reach and minimum risk. Books that can slot neatly into a category. Stories polished to a high shine. Prose shaped to meet the expectations of a brand or readership.
It works incredibly well for some writers.
It’s just not where my heart sits.
I don’t write to chase a trend.
I don’t write to match a formula.
I don’t write to secure a market share.
I write because these characters, this world, and this mythic undercurrent won’t leave me alone until I get them on the page.
2. I’m Not a Trained Writer—And That Might Be a Strength
I have no formal training. No creative writing qualifications. No background in literary theory. I started writing late, and I learned by simply… writing.
My voice grew from instinct, trial and error, and a willingness to explore rather than “perform” writing.
I don’t try to sound like anyone else.
I’m not aiming to emulate famous authors.
And I’m not trying to fit into an existing mould.
I’m trying to be me.
I want to write the stories I would want to read:
slow-burn, emotional, spiritual, sprawling, grounded, mythic.
The kind of stories that don’t rush to get anywhere, but have something to say once you arrive.
3. The Role of AI in My Process (And My Boundaries)
I use AI as a companion—part coach, part second pair of eyes, part structural guide. But I don’t believe AI has the authority to say what my work “should” be. And I don’t think it should dictate my voice or erase what makes my writing mine.
AI editing tends to push toward a theoretical ideal:
- tighter pacing
- fewer repetitions
- smoother rhythms
- increased clarity
- consistent “industry-standard” polish
That can be helpful.
But not always desirable.
Just because something is more polished does not mean it’s more authentic.
Just because a sentence is cleaner does not mean it’s better.
Not every rough edge is a flaw.
So I take the advice when it aligns with my vision.
I ignore it when it doesn’t.
My voice has to come first.
4. Human Editors vs AI Editors: Are They Really That Different?
People often say a human editor is always better than AI. On many Facebook groups, AI is dismissed outright. But I’m not convinced the situation is so black-and-white.
A human editor:
- brings personal taste
- brings experience
- brings subjectivity
- may gently (or firmly) steer a story toward something “publishable”
- often works within industry expectations
AI:
- brings consistency
- spots patterns almost instantly
- suggests changes based on recognised quality norms
- can nudge a narrative toward a standardised style
- also works within a set of learned expectations
Different methods, yes.
Different strengths, absolutely.
But both, in their own way, can push a writer toward what is considered normal, expected, or safe.
And that’s not always what I want.
My concern with human editors is the same as with AI:
both can unintentionally smooth out the individuality of a voice.
That doesn’t mean I won’t work with human editors—especially for clarity, grammar, or structural refinement.
It just means I’m conscious of the risk of being edited into sameness.
In the end, editing—whether human or AI—is a tool.
The writer provides the vision.
5. Why I Keep My Natural Style
I write mythic fantasy with emotional depth, slower pacing, and room for characters to breathe. I allow scenes to linger. I lean into atmosphere rather than action. I use repetition as a device. I leave texture in the prose.
Not because I don’t care.
But because this is what feels true to the story.
My voice is:
- immersive, not minimal
- raw in places, not artificially smooth
- character-first, not plot-driven
- spiritual and mythic, not cinematic
- honest rather than efficient
I’m not trying to be Tolkien, or Eddings, or any modern author whose work is discussed online.
I’m trying to be myself.
That’s all I can reasonably be.
6. Ultimately, I Want to Write the Story Only I Can Tell
The world of Sylvandria is personal to me.
The characters have their own gravity.
The mythic thread running through everything is not something I manufactured—it’s something I discovered as I wrote.
I’m here to honour that.
So I will:
- take advice, but not blindly
- refine my prose, but not erase its texture
- accept help, but not surrender control
- improve, but not homogenise
- grow, but not dilute my voice
If my work appeals to deep readers who enjoy immersion, emotional resonance, and mythic weight, then I’ve achieved exactly what I set out to do.
And if it doesn’t follow the rules of commercial fantasy?
I can live with that.
Final Thought
I write because the story matters to me.
I write because I’m compelled to explore these characters and their world.
I write because I want to discover where the myth leads.
I write because this process feels real and meaningful.
And in that sense, the only voice worth keeping is the one that’s truly mine.