Navigating AI use: Bringing the Brain and the Pen Together

Artificial intelligence. The bane and boon of every writer. It’s here to stay, so living without it is impossible, but the hurdles it introduces to the writing process make living with it even more so.

When harnessed appropriately, artificial intelligence can enhance writing and make us better writers. However, the rise of AI plagiarism is a growing concern. How do we bring the artificial brain and pen together in a responsible, ethical manner? How do we bring the artificial brain, the human one and the pen together?

The Benefits of Artificial Intelligence for Writing

AI helps generate ideas and outlines, which can make Writer’s Block ancient history. It also offers phrasing suggestions, which can make the pen mightier than the sword, for want of a better phrase. Writers can use it to generate engaging fiction story outlines, reducing the anxiety of the blank page. By offering new tones and writing styles, it inspires thought,

Tools like Chat GPT can also assist with repetitive tasks such as editing for grammar and formatting, making writers more productive. It also enhances the clarity of expression, speeding up the early stages of writing. When used responsibly, it strengthens the writing process without compromising a writer’s unique voice.

Why Writers Must Be Responsible When Using AI

AI is a welcome tool that allows writers to have a much-needed breather. But this tool can become dangerous if wrongly wielded.

AI tools can compromise authenticity, ethics and a writer’s credibility. Over-relying on it can lead to c work that seems too generic – the classic cookie-cutter syndrome.

Bots like Chat GPT and Deep Seek can make unintentional plagiarism a real threat. AI can echo existing works. Undisclosed or even disclosed use can damage trust with editors and fellow writers. Audiences who expect ‘the real deal’ –human-crafted work–will be alienated.

Above all, writing is a deeply personal endeavour that requires time, thought, insight and feeling. While AI can make suggestions and shape ideas, it cannot and should never replace the heart in the pen.

Real-Life Scenarios: When AI Aided the Writing Process

After staring at a blank screen for hours to write an article entitled “10 ways to reduce burnout”, a writer can turn to an AI tool to give Writer’s Block the boot.

But instead of asking it to write the article, he can prompt it: “Can you suggest a few tips for reducing burnout in point form?”

The tool can suggest taking outdoor breaks or setting timelines, while writers can use the suggestions to prompt thought. Combined with personal experience and expert sources, they can generate original pieces in their voices.

Real-Life Scenario: When AI Harmed the Writing Process

I teach English as a Second Language, so this scenario is familiar and one of my favourites to highlight–_student plagiarism.

I often remind my teen charges not to hand in essays that bots have produced. These are easy enough to spot —they are not in sync with their current linguistic capabilities.

Fortunately for their progress and credibility, they cannot do this in open exams!

When Brain Meets Pen: Responsible AI Use in Writing

Firstly, use Chat GPT and other AI tools as support, not ghostwriters. AI can initiate ideas or rephrase awkward sentences–but they are not the real deal Writers should let their voices and intent lead.

Always fact-check. AI can sometimes generate outdated information, so cross-check its facts against other platforms before citing them.

Remember the human touch. No story, article or poem can pass as one without a writer’s style. Readers can identify that right away.

Use the right tool to complete tasks. Grammarly or ProWritingAid can assist with editing mistakes in grammar or phrasing. ChatGPT can suggest topics that a writer can explore.

The brain can meet the pen when brought together responsibly and with integrity.

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Please find a book of my horror microfiction, Echoes in the Dark, free for download here.

Eterna

Would you take forever?—Michelle Liew

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Evelyn Kong’s smile was too wide; she could barely contain her triumph. And her good cheer was understandable–Eterna, the newest nanomedical treatment in her scientific arsenal, didn’t just extend life–it restructured existence as humans knew it.

The controversial scientist had earned her self-assurance—for discovering the elusive key to immortality, one that she had originally designed to repair defective genetic flaws.

But only the elites could pay the price. Evelyn’s birthchild had thrived and given the Eternals a lift, physically and socially. But the rift between them and the naturally aging population had only widened, in more ways than one.

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TV cameras. Newspaper reviews. Media appearances. Eterna graced the world stage to much fanfare, with KongCorp and Evelyn Kong at the helm.

Eternal youthfulness was the perfect succubus. She lured, manipulated and charmed; Eterna topped the scientific charts, with everyone wanting immortality as a tangible offering.

But every succubus eventually unveiled herself. The society she had in her fingers stopped advancing; the forever notion negated progress. The elites she charmed hoarded the power of Eterna; “haves” and “have nots” had new meanings.

Evelyn Kong reveled in the revolutionary treatment’s glory; she remained the young scientist every company had to employ. But she was a mere scientist; with Eterna reserved by the gilded set, she became outclassed by the very system she built, unable to afford the treatment she created. The mirror cruelly reminded her—crow’s feet, age lines, and white hair.

They had returned.

And this was the mere cusp of her troubles. Eternals cornered her, their faces filled with confrontational ire. Their once-perfect lives had crumbled; in their place were lives marked by hollow pride and eternal resentment.

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Evelyn’s attempt to defy mortality had torn open Pandora’s box. Her inbox filled up with irate Emails, threats and desperate demands from Eterna’s corporate backers.

“Eternal youth in exchange for the self? Who’d want the second if they have forever?”

The lure of eternal youth hadn’t touched all. The force of non-Eternals built, headed by a renowned maverick, Daniel Bong.

“I’d rather sacrifice my life than lose myself completely,” were his words to her as he deactivated the nanites he once purchased.

The Mortality Conundrum ensnared Evelyn. The unfair divide stoked the ire of the non-Eternals, who demanded the treatment be banned The Eternals, as expected, clung to their immortality for dear life. Groups assembled outside their houses, their slogans growing louder, more hostile.

The chaos became a monstrosity. In its grasp, many Eternals fled, the non-Eternals in hot pursuit. But integrity had touched a few—they deactivated their nanites, willingly accepting the fragile gift of mortality Providence had given—knowing that there was more than living forever.

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The Clash of the Titans peaked—-with Evelyn an integral part of the drama. The non-Eternals and Eternals hurled insults, staged kidnappings, perpetrated murders—-“turmoil” was an understatement to describe global society. Earth’s people stood at the precipice of a new societal order—one where immortality and mortality were no longer theoretical debates, but a visceral struggle.

Evelyn found herself so caught up in the conundrum that she did the only thing she could—she cut the web.

The only solution—seclusion. She vanished into oblivion, but not without a project—she worked on a way to reverse Eterna, forever.

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Years of self-imposed exile gave Evelyn what she sorely needed—time for instrospection. She developed a habit that she never thought she would have.

She started a dairy. And on its pages, she found HERSELF.

“I never thought that Earth would descend to such an abyss. This divide, so sharp, so absolute. I wanted to correct what I thought was society’s worst flaw–mortality. I never once asked whether it was appropriate, something we should change. We feared death; but we feared the consequences even more. Eterna was supposed to be a cure-all, a go-to solution of our dreams—but with the great chasm she created in society, she became a nightmare.

In my pursuit of defying mortality, I created a fractured world.

I understand now; immortality is not the answer, but an Alcatraz. For all its promises of eternity on Earth and consummate power, its truth lies in the very thing we try to break free from; a bitter end.

I have failed. I did give them what they wanted, but it wasn’t what they needed. I ignored the truth. They needed the truth; that life embraces fragility. The Eternals may live in a gilded cage, but resentment, pride and forever anger locks them in. The rest of humanity? It struggles, unable to open the gift that was meant for all.

Now, I walk away from it all. Not because of shame, but because I accept what cannot be changed. I choose peace. Not for myself—I now understand—but for everyone who has been caught in Eterna’s web.

I thought that I could fix this world. Make it a little better for everyone. But creating Eterna taught me a lesson—the pursuit of perfection is the most imperfect quest we could ever have embarked on. We cannot escape who we are–mortal.

Tomorrow, I will rise, just as I did today, and face this same world. An imperfect world. One that isn’t eternal. But it IS worth living for. I will grace it as I am. Fragile. Old. Fleeting. Dying. Human.

The number of sunrises I will see is not uncountable. But for now, I am content to witness what light there is. While I still can.”

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Twenty years later….

The mansions of those who once sought the solution to Death stood empty. The streets were quiet, save for those who sought to make it come alive–with a new quest.

The world began to stir, resonating with the hum of former Eternals. They had obtained Forever Life—with no meaning. No joy. A future of emptiness. One without glory.

And they wanted Life. Not forever. But one filled with happiness. Glorious, memorable moments. A future of worth. One where they could share meaningful moments.

Evelyn returned, with a solution. An antidote that would erase forever, returning a life of worth to the world.

But would the world take it?

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This story is entirely original. Any AI tags is coincidental.

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Today’s book–Unbroken by Jennifer Neugin

Ode to Chocolate

I realise that chocolate is everyone’s go-to dessert and probably does not come up top in the unique desserts department. But it has been a dessert mainstay since I was a child.

Chocolate, without all the trimmings, has a surprising slew of benefits that include heart health, enhanced brain function, improved skin health, and of course, an improved mood.

Need I say more? Enjoy these chocolate cinquains.

Chocolate

Lovely richness

The heart glows with its warmth

Enhances its beat with fervour

Scrumptious

Chocolate

Sweet, soulful

Mind sparkles with its charm

Prompts it with love and scrumptiousness

Thoughtful

Chocolate

Sinful, joyful

Mood shifts up with its strokes

Lifts it with kindness and passion

Sweetness.

Emptying the Cup

opened diary placed on table near mug and candle — Photo by Ann poan on Pexels.com

Everyone has an interesting backstory to tell, and it is usually so compelling that it must remain a secret from everyone else. And it is this backstory that sometimes prevents us from progressing. Family woes. Relationship worries. Academic stress. Work-related drama. We each have a lot to let go of.

Doing so is a tall order, but we can begin by acknowledging the sores in our hearts and challenging negative thoughts. Forgiving ourselves and others is crucial, as is setting boundaries.

Enjoy this Elizabethan Sonnet on Emptying the Cup

Cup with angsty essence filled

Though water light, like stone so heavy

Ignore the water already spilled

For fresh water get the cup ready

Angsty essence we must bout

It tells a sad, sad tale

Fills too-full cup, which does now pout

And emits a wail

It must excuse the water

Already spilled on floor

Continue pour, not falter

When enough, “no more.”

The empty cup does shine

When we pour away the brine.

Women are inspirational. With the tightrope that we have to walk when balancing career and family priorities, how could we not be? A woman is tenaciousness personified.

Whether man or woman, each of us inspires in our own way. But none can fill the Dragoness robe like my grandmother, who has a few compelling stories to tell.

Through her marriage, my grandmother became Peranakan. This subculture of the Chinese community in South-East Asia observes the customs of the people of the Straits of Malaya. Peranakans, or Straits Born Chinese, have their own patois and food; I grew up on Chinese food with a straits twist.

So, my grandmother cooked such food and did so well that it is a point of inspiration. One of her specialties, Acar, stands out in my memory. Few can surpass her meticulousness in its preparation; besides slicing and sunning vegetables for the dish, she stuffed red hot green chilies with papaya, using her bare hands. Despite the obvious sting her palms would have felt after stuffing just one, she kept going, topping countless jars with the plump, papaya-filled chilies and vegetables. Of course, they made their way into the tummies of my family members fairly quickly.

Jaw-dropping as her cooking skills were, they weren’t the sole reason she wowed others. Her tenaciousness was difficult to beat. A teenager during the Second World War, she made it through the tough era with resilience that few could emulate. She dressed up as a boy to divert the attention of lascivious Japanese soldiers who went around having their ways with the hapless women of Japanese-occupied Singapore. She defended each of her sisters with her insistence that no women were present in the home when there clearly were, a move with life as its cost if the soldiers found her to be lying. An Ann Frank of SouthEast Asia? She comes close, surely.

That isn’t the reason she holds the Dragoness title. The values she imparted made me what I am today; she taught me that pain was transient when doctors diagnosed me with Pituitary Brain Tumors and had to administer spinal taps. She reminded me I could withstand the treatment and emerge stronger for it, which I did. She was in the hospital daily.

Then there was her humility. Before she died, she told us to scatter her ashes at sea and asked that her funeral be fuss-free. Nothing grandiose for her; we could feel that she left this world in the comfort of her peace.

A simple housewife yet a dragoness who transformed. That was my grandmother.