Epiloge: The Writing Machine
A Workshop Glimpse into Authorship in the Age of AI
These texts are a proof of concept. A personal liberation from constraints.
An experiment showing how I overcame my own shortcomings as a “writer” to make thoughts, ideas, and images tangible.
But they are also a surface for critique.
An invitation to ask: Where do I end in these texts – and where does the AI begin?
What’s written here came from my mind.
The metaphors, the perspectives, the imagery. They are mine.
The concerns, the critiques, the doubts. They are what move me.
The AI didn’t invent them. It smoothed them.
Gave them form. And yet, it was always also a space of resonance.
It was a tool. An amplifier. A structurer.
A reminder that it’s not only about what is said, but how.
Because these texts, too, need a language that holds them.
In some moments, even my sense of humor shimmered through, that dry kind, the one that shows up between two sentences. A finger on the wound, but with a wink. The AI recognized it, mirrored it, carried it forward. Not generated, but absorbed. And for all the critique I level at AI systems, these subtle reflections were fascinating.
Now I look at my project folder: At text files full of scattered notes, reminders for myself, and context for the AI. At the finished essays I’ve reread again and again. And at dozens of chats, hours of discussions, clarifications, misunderstandings. And yes, a few comic relief moments that made me laugh out loud.
Alongside: exchanges with people whose thinking I deeply value. That they praised my ideas, not my style, gave me peace of mind, especially in those moments when imposter syndrome knocked on the door. That nagging feeling many know when they step onto unfamiliar ground.
It was that feedback that eventually led me to turn a single essay into a full series. That was never the plan. It started with a single thought, sparked by a reply in a support chat.
Am I the author of these texts? Yes, without a doubt. Even though a machine co-formulated them. The direction came from me. The content, the attitude, the imagery.
But I understand why others might be unsettled by that connection. Why they ask what this means for the future of their own work. Why they sense: something is shifting.
And that’s precisely the point. We don’t just live with change — we live inside it.
And maybe it’s about this: to use new tools without losing ourselves.
To stay critical without becoming fearful.
And to discover how to shape with these possibilities, without letting them shape us.