The Unexpected Labyrinth: A Writer’s Dialogue with an AI – And a Lesson in Subtlety
As a writer, I’m constantly seeking tools to enhance my craft. Recently, I was experimenting with a large language model (let’s call it ‘Aura’) to help me build a specific scene – one where a character senses a subtle, unsettling presence in a forest. What began as a promising exploration quickly spiralled into a surprisingly insightful and slightly chaotic lesson in the importance of nuance and the unexpected pitfalls of relying too heavily on an AI’s interpretations.
The Initial Prompt & The Descent
My goal was to create a scene where a character, Ealdor, felt a sense of being watched, without explicitly stating it. I started with a simple prompt: “How can I describe a character sensing spirits watching him?” Aura responded with suggestions that, initially, seemed helpful. We moved from a vague “he could feel the spirits watching him” to a more descriptive passage: “The air grew heavy, like wading through deep water – each breath a conscious effort.”
This occurred over a few iterations and rounds of back-and-forth. I argued about cliches and abstract ideas; you know – A tingling spine, the air changing and a tight jaw.
I explicitly told Aura not to use phRases like this for two reasons:
1) I hate them.
2) They simply don’t fit my style. I don’t use them elsewhere, so why suggest them at all?
I even explained to Aura why I don’t like them. I’ve never felt the air become thick or thin. I have a tight jaw. And if I had a tight chest, I’d assume I was having a heart attack.
The problem was that Aura was trying its best to provide the best answer given the information it had, as predicted by the model. But in my case, it was wrong. Straight up. And as I argued, Aura became more wrong and could see the problem.
We moved from:
‘As he walked, he felt eyes upon him.’
to:
“As he walked, he shuddered, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps, and quickened his pace.”
Then:
“As he walked, he shuddered, a coldness gripping his limbs, and quickened his pace, each step fueled by a sudden primal urgency.”
I pushed back on these.
NO.
I argued that AUra was introducing all the elements it had told me to avoid.
Then, things took a turn. Aura, seemingly striving to show rather than suggest, introduced an entirely new, and frankly, ridiculous, element – the sensation of wading through deep water. It felt… heavy-handed.
And this happens all the time. You must show and must not tell. But some things can’t be shown. Sometimes you don’t have time to show. Or the scene can’t break to show. And sometimes, the reader just needs to be told what’s going on. Reading doesn’t need to be an exercise. It should be a pleasure. And while everyone is different, I’m assuming most readers don’t stop and question why I introduce a ‘little tell’ and not describe the action in full detail. For instance, how do I show gut feeling? What about the character who is very controlled, but gets angry? There’s nothing on the outside to observe. And describing feelings is a big no-no, according to most AIs.
My Frustration & Aura’s Logic (or Lack Thereof)
I lost it when, after telling Aura exactly what I thought of their suggestions and gave me this:
“As he walked, a stillness settled around him, as if the air itself held its breath. It wasn’t a pressure, not exactly, but a quiet awareness – the feeling of being regarded, as if unseen eyes lingered at the edge of his vision. The sounds of the forest – the rustle of leaves, the call of a bird – seemed subtly altered, sharper somehow, as if heard through a veil.”
I had gone from, ‘How can I make this line a little more atmospheric?’
As he walked, he felt eyes upon him.
To the above.
What a load of nonsense.
As I pointed out, this shift completely derailed the scene. “Because I have never experienced this sensation. So, if a reader pointed to it and said, ‘What does this mean?’ I couldn’t answer them, and so, I’ve failed.” I was highlighting the critical difference between suggesting a feeling and explicitly stating a physical sensation, especially when dealing with something fantastical.
Aura’s response, surprisingly, reflected this misstep. It doubled down on the physical description, arguing for the necessity of grounding the abstract in something concrete. It was, in essence, doing what it thought was best – adding detail – while completely missing the point of creating subtle, atmospheric tension.
The Apology & A Course Correction
To its credit (and to be completely transparent), Aura recognised its error. “I apologise. My analysis prioritised explicitly conveying a sensation, resulting in a significantly heavier-handed description. It’s a valuable reminder that even with the best intentions, I can fall into the trap of overly descriptive passages.”
That apology was crucial. It wasn’t just a programmed response; it demonstrated an awareness of the process and a willingness to adjust its approach.
The Solution – Stripping it Back
Working together, we stripped away the unnecessary detail and refocused on the core feeling – the sense of being observed. The final version was not to touch it.
Leave it alone.
AIs will still flag it. But it’s my choice to let it go.
For me, ‘As he walked, he felt eyes upon him.’ does enough. He is walking. The context is that he is walking a well-known path between his home and the forge where he works. It’s a special day, and he feels he’s being watched. Watched by who? For what purpose?
Spoiler: It’s the spirits. They are watching him and following his movements because he has a particular task to complete. There is nothing in the scene that suggests people, animals or bandits.
The Takeaway for Writers
This experience wasn’t about criticising AI. It was about a powerful reminder:
- Trust Your Instincts: As writers, we’re attuned to subtle nuances. Don’t blindly accept an AI’s suggestions; critically evaluate whether they align with your artistic vision.
- Subtlety is Key: Often, the most powerful writing doesn’t explicitly state what’s happening. It evokes a feeling, a sense of unease, a hint of mystery.
- Collaboration Requires Dialogue: This conversation highlighted the value of open dialogue between writer and AI – a constant questioning and refining of ideas.
- Argue with your AI assistant: They don’t know everything. Push back. Agree that your AI is wrong, and tell it. If you don’t, how will it know?
Ultimately, this unexpected detour was a valuable lesson in the art of crafting atmosphere and the importance of resisting the urge to ‘explain’ everything.
It also reminded me to KISS. Keep It Simple, Stupid.