The Artificial Elephant in the Room

We all know it’s standing right there. Everyone uses it. Most of us use it wrong, but we use it. Much like Thanos’ mantra from Avengers: Infinity War, it’s inevitable. But here’s a hot take that might spark a debate: AI isn’t evil.

Shocking coming from an indie author? Maybe. But hold your breath and pull up a chair, because there’s a long-winded reason behind that statement. Let’s talk about the good, the bad, and the practical ways AI can be a savvy writer’s friend.

Um, Actually… AI Isn’t AI

Before we panic, let's establish one basic fact: modern “AI” isn’t actually artificial intelligence. That’s just a shiny marketing term for high-speed pattern recognition and probability math.

Most of what we interact with breaks down into 2 categories:

  • Machine Learning (ML): Systems that find patterns in massive data sets. (Think facial recognition or smart search algorithms.)

  • Large Language Models (LLMs): Systems that predict the next most likely word in a sentence. (Think ChatGPT or Gemini.)

An LLM is a model built on predictability. And you, dear reader—as unique, brilliant, and human as you are—are still fundamentally predictable. That’s how these models manage to hold “conversations” that some folks, rather tragically, turn into full-blown relationships.

Why does this technical distinction matter?

First, semantics. Because I’m a writer, an editor, and an avid fan of a good “um, actually.” But second, and more importantly: it proves my point that the technology itself isn't the villain. The problem is the way humans choose to weaponize or misuse it.

The Case for “Ethical AI” in the Writing Cave

I posted a video on my socials breaking down how I personally use AI to assist my drafting process. I use it for general structural feedback while editing, for helping me figure out how clothing works, and for brainstorming titles—because, let’s be real, titling a manuscript is my absolute personal nightmare. (My debut novel, How to Seal a Curse, went through a terrifying number of draft titles before landing on the right one!)

All the heavy lifting—the world-building, the magic systems, the angst, the character arcs, and the actual prose—is me. The AI is a digital research assistant.

That boundary is what I call ethical AI.

No LLM will ever replace the nuanced eye of a human editor. No algorithm will ever be worthy of replacing authentic human-told stories. Even when tech bros claim they're getting close, they're not.

That doesn’t mean you’re a terrible person if you get a kick out of generating an AU fanfiction for fun or using Gemini to draft a poster for a local bake sale. Demonizing everyday people for making their lives a tiny bit easier feels petty. I’d much rather focus our energy on fighting the genuinely predatory ways AI is deployed than on attacking creators trying to streamline their workflow.

Efficiency is the ideal role for AI. We aren't there yet, but I hope we find that happy medium someday soon.

The Paranoia Problem for Indie Authors

As an indie author, the current discourse is exhausting. You see so many writers and artists desperate to label every post “100% No AI” or constantly declare their anti-AI credentials. It’s deeply disheartening that we live in a world where creative human beings have to be proactively paranoid about false accusations.

As someone who has an avid devotion to the em-dash and a deep love for lists of 3—alas, 2 stylistic choices LLMs love to mimic—it sucks.

AI works because it copies us. Really, really well. The best books, the best art, even when it feels original and looks like nothing you’ve ever seen before, is only human. Our creativity captures human habits and recognizable tropes. (Yes, even the abstract stuff.)

Because humans are creatures of habit, it’s scarily easy for an algorithm to learn what plot twists make us gasp or what cover aesthetics match a popular vibe. It's an awful feeling for a writer to pour their heart into an original work only to be accused of generating it.

In a perfect world, the developers behind these models would force AI to take a permanent step back from trying to be the artist, keeping it strictly in the “assistant” role.

AI hallucinates, makes things up, answers questions we never asked, and you have to double-check anything you plan to use or act on. But as a tool to turn a 10-step research process into 5 steps? That’s efficiency. That’s what ethical AI in creative spaces should be.

When Is Enough, Enough?

Now, I’ve made it clear that I’m open to using AI as a tool, but let me make another thing clear: if there were a magic button that erased AI entirely from all creative spaces tomorrow, I would push it.

I use it as an assistant because the technology exists and because it helps level the playing field, not because I’m in love with it.

And there are plenty of line-crossing behaviors that make my blood boil. The scandal surrounding the destruction and digital scraping of old, physical books for AI training is vile. I’m not against technology learning; I am 100% against modern book burning. Because, yeah, I’m counting this as book-burning because some of those books are one-of-a-kind and might be lost now.

I love books. I also love that modern digital technology made it possible for me to edit, format, upload, and self-publish my own novel without needing a traditional gatekeeper’s permission. Technology can be a force for creative empowerment. I am grateful for the possibilities. I just hope we humans choose wisely and keep AI firmly in the role of the assistant—never the master.

We can’t turn back the clock and delete the technology, so I want to hear from you: What does your vision of “ethical AI” look like in creative spaces? Let’s talk in the comments!

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