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Author Voice: Why AI Can’t Replace It

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Let’s talk about artificial intelligence (AI) and writing. It seems like every other day, there’s a new tool that promises to make writing faster, easier, and maybe even . . . automatic? It’s easy to see how many writers are pulled toward AI. Some people may even ask writers: Why spend days or months putting blood, sweat, and tears into something that AI can do in seconds?

Here’s the thing: No matter how impressive AI gets, it will never compare to the unique voice, experience, and, well, humanity that each writer brings to their work.

It’s true that AI can assist writers in getting through tricky passages and overcoming writer’s block. In later tips in this series about AI, we will discuss the benefits of using AI in your writing in greater detail. But in this article, we’ll focus on what AI can’t replace—your voice!

Voice vs. Style

Writing voice and style are two concepts that are often confused or conflated. There is a difference between the concepts, so let’s break them down:

Voice: The writer’s innate opinions, attitudes, and experiences.

Style: The writer’s word choices, sentence structures, and mechanical—or grammatical—patterns.

Tiffany Yates Martin, an established editor with over twenty years of professional experience, has a beautiful description of voice on her website Fox Print Editorial:

“Author voice, though, comes from the truest, most authentic heart of you. Your voice began to be formed even before you were born, and it has been shaped increment by increment by every single circumstance and element of your life since: where you were raised, by whom, how, in what circumstances; your socioeconomic level, your education, your frames of reference and your experiences; your personality, sensibilities, values, and passions.

“It can be affected by age and perspective, state of mind and mood. It encompasses your vocabulary, your phrasing and rhythm, your diction and word choice, your verbal tics and habits. It’s reflected in the speed at which you communicate, the way in which you find and express your thoughts, whether you are direct or circuitous, literal or figurative, humorous or serious, and every permutation of all the above.”

(Yates Martin, Tiffany. “What Is Author Voice and How Do You Find Yours,” Fox Print Editorial, October 8, 2024, https://foxprinteditorial.com/2023/08/10/what-is-author-voice-and-how-do-you-find-yours.)

Yates’s beautiful description of voice shows just how personal and unique it is. Voice reflects the soul of a writer—their innate perspective and personality—while style is the way ideas are expressed on the page with words.

Some writers have a writing style that is elaborate and embellished—meaning they love crafting long sentences full of imagery and metaphor. Other writers write short, punchy sentences. Some writers enjoy breaking conventional grammar rules, such as sentence fragments, run-on sentences, or omitting punctuation, and others write in sarcastic or mocking styles.

A writer’s style may adapt to suit different genres, tones, or audiences, but their voice remains a consistent reflection of their unique personality and perspective. And while AI can mimic certain writing styles by replicating patterns and techniques, it lacks its own innate personality, or voice.

Voice Is Personal

The stories you tell—whether they are fictional or not—are uniquely your own. No AI, no matter how advanced, can replicate the intricacies of your lived experience. Your life, your choices, and your perspective are shaped by countless factors: your upbringing, culture, relationships, failures, and triumphs. These experiences color the way you see the world and inform the stories you tell.

AI may be able to mimic style and structure, but it can’t capture the one thing that makes each writer unique—their individual way of writing stories and depicting complex human feelings. AI, by nature, uses algorithms to predict what should come next based on existing data, so its output often reads as generic.

Because voice is so uniquely human, we are good at picking up its subtle nuances in the things we read without realizing it. Consider the uncanny valley phenomenon, which is when a “computer-generated figure or humanoid robot bearing a near-identical resemblance to a human being arouses a sense of unease or revulsion in the person viewing it.” (“Uncanny Valley,” Oxford English Dictionary, accessed December 2024, https://www.oed.com/dictionary/uncanny-valley_n?tab=meaning_and_use.)

For example,  observe AI-generated photos of people that look extremely realistic—until you look closer and see hands with unnatural fingers or mouths with too many teeth. Similarly to this phenomenon, AI tools like ChatGPT can produce material mimicking different writing styles, but they can’t perfectly embody any author’s voice—or cultivate their own.

Below are three comparable passages from stories that each carry themes of nostalgia, permanent loss, and a painful sense of longing:

1. “Nick looked down into the pool from the bridge. It was a hot day. A kingfisher flew up the stream. It was a long time since Nick had looked into a stream and seen trout. They were very satisfactory. As the shadow of the kingfisher moved up the stream, a big trout shot upstream in a long angle, only his shadow marking the angle, then lost his shadow as he came through the surface of the water, caught the sun, and then, as he went back into the stream under the surface, his shadow seemed to float down the stream with the current, unresisting, to his post under the bridge where he tightened facing up into the current.

“Nick’s heart tightened as the trout moved. He felt all the old feeling.” 

(Hemingway, Ernest. Big Two-Hearted River. Scribner, 1925.)

2. “Once there were brook trout in the streams in the mountains. You could see them standing in the amber current where the white edges of their fins wimpled softly in the flow. They smelled of moss in your hand. Polished and muscular and torsional. On their backs were vermiculate patterns that were maps of the world in its becoming. Maps and mazes. Of a thing which could not be put back. Not be made right again. In the deep glens where they lived all things were older than man and they hummed of mystery.” 

(Cormac McCarthy, The Road. Alfred A. Knopf, 2006.)

3. “The trout dart through the clear, cold stream, their silver bodies flickering like fleeting memories beneath the surface. Time here seems to slow, as though the current itself carries echoes of a forgotten summer. Now, the current feels quieter, the air heavier with the weight of things that are no longer. Each ripple in the water seems to stir an old ache, a quiet sorrow that lingers in the spaces between the rocks, where the trout swim without ever looking back. The stream, once so full of life and laughter, now whispers only of what’s been lost.”

(ChatGPT. Prompt: “Write a paragraph about trout in a stream with these feelings: nostalgia, loss, and longing.”)

The differences between these three passages highlight the profound gap between human writing and AI-generated text, particularly when it comes to voice, authenticity, and emotional resonance.

Ernest Hemingway’s Big Two-Hearted River is marked by his distinctive, restrained style and voice that speaks volumes in what it leaves unsaid. The description of the trout’s shadow—rising, catching the sun, and then floating back into the current—reflects not just the fish’s physical movement but also Nick’s transient grasp of peace and the inescapable pull of memory. When Nick’s heart tightens, the reader feels the weight of his unspoken longing.

In contrast, Cormac McCarthy’s voice in The Road is lush and poetic, and he evokes awe and reverence for the natural world. His description of the trout doesn’t just show us fish in a stream—it turns them into symbols of something much bigger, something lost that can never be recovered. With lines like “vermiculate patterns . . . maps of the world in its becoming,” McCarthy transforms the details of the trout into a meditation on time and the fragility of existence—a product of a philosophical mind engaging with the world.

The AI-generated passage, while technically fine and polished, lacks the depth and authenticity of the human-authored examples. Descriptions like “their silver bodies flickering like fleeting memories” and “the air heavier with the weight of things that are no longer” attempt to evoke emotion but instead come across as formulaic and generic as if the AI is trying to fit some template of sentimentality. The passage feels like a compilation of poetic tropes, strung together without the lived experience or unique worldview that imbues an author’s voice with sincerity. As a result, the passage reads as imitative and hollow.

Voice Is Experiential

Writers draw from their personal histories—moments of joy, loss, struggle, and triumph—which shape how they perceive the world and how they choose to express it. Each character, scene, and narrative choice is made up of trinkets of the writer’s own life journey.

AI, while impressive in its ability to mimic writing styles, lacks this experiential foundation. It can replicate the mechanics of storytelling, but it cannot draw from a lived history. AI doesn’t know what it feels like to experience love or loss, to face the challenge of a difficult decision, or to observe the world with the nuance of human perception. As a result, AI-generated novels often lack the depth and emotional resonance that comes from the lived experiences of a human writer. It may produce coherent narratives, but without the personal imprint of a real life, the voice it generates remains hollow and detached.

Compare the following excerpts:

1. “Soldiers carry the weight of their weapons, tools of survival and destruction, each one a constant reminder of their purpose and the danger that lurks. Their packs are heavy with rations, medical supplies, and gear—necessary burdens that ground them in the brutal present, yet leave little room for escape. Tucked deep within, they carry the ghosts of past battles, the memories of comrades lost, and the quiet longing for home, all bound in the recesses of their minds. The weight of duty is palpable in every step, as they march forward, burdened by both the physical and emotional tolls of war.”

(ChatGPT. Prompt: “Write a paragraph about what soldiers carry in war.”)

“They took up what others could no longer bear. Often, they carried each other, the wounded or weak. They carried infections. They carried chess sets, basketballs, Vietnamese-English dictionaries, insignia of rank, Bronze Stars and Purple Hearts, plastic cards imprinted with the Code of Conduct. They carried diseases, among them malaria and dysentery. They carried lice and ringworm and leeches and paddy algae and various rots and molds. They carried the land itself—Vietnam, the place, the soil—a powdery orange-red dust that covered their boots and fatigues and faces. They carried the sky. The whole atmosphere, they carried it, the humidity, the monsoons, the stink of fungus and decay, all of it, they carried gravity.”

(O’Brien, Tim. The Things They Carried. Broadway, 1998.)

Severe trauma and war are examples of things that AI has never experienced and will never experience. For all of ChatGPT’s flowery language, its paragraph above rings incredibly hollow when compared to O’Brien’s excerpt, which draws from his lived experience of serving in the Vietnam war. O’Brien is not using generalizations to speak for every soldier who fought in Vietnam, and he is not even trying to recount every factual detail of his experience. Instead, he speaks about his personal perceptions and feelings developed through his experiences.

There are a huge number of life experiences—emotions felt, moments lived, and connections formed—that are uniquely human. Drawing from these experiences when writing connects writers with readers, even if they haven’t been through the same things, because they reflect the emotions and connections we all share. This connection is something AI may attempt but will likely never replicate.

Voice Is Cultural

Writers also draw from cultural and social dynamics—the gestures, tone, slang, vernacular, and unsaid meanings that make up human interaction. These nuances, shaped by culture, society, and history, enrich a writer’s voice, allowing it to capture the complexities of emotion and experience in ways that resonate with readers.

AI, though skilled at mimicking writing styles, lacks the ability to truly understand or engage with the social intricacies that define human communication. While it can replicate language patterns or historical references, it cannot grasp the deeper layers of meaning embedded in these elements.

In our interconnected and plugged-in modern culture, communication is becoming increasingly fluid. Slang, internet culture, and memes are playful, ever-evolving forms of communication that reflect shared humor, generational trends, and cultural moments. These quirks of language serve as social identity markers—the traits, symbols, and language that help people express who they are and where they come from.

Writers understand how these identity markers operate within communities and use them in novels to create authentic dialogue, relatable characters, and vivid settings. Identity markers in writing can be incredibly subtle. A character’s hesitation before choosing a word might reveal their insecurity or the unspoken weight of their relationship with the person they’re speaking to. The use of the word “demure” might suggest not just modesty but “mindfulness,” “very respectful,” and “not doing too much” to Gen Z readers. A passing mention of the smell of rented bowling shoes could evoke an entire childhood for a reader without being explicitly tied to any narrative arc. These subtleties—rooted in how humans assign meaning to the smallest interactions and details—give writing a depth and resonance that AI may struggle to replicate.

Voice is Irreplaceable

AI can copy certain styles, but it can’t capture you. Your unique way of putting things and the little surprises that come with it? That’s your voice, and that’s something only a real, live person can bring.

So, if you ever feel discouraged by the speed or apparent efficiency of AI, remember this: Your voice matters more than anything a machine could ever produce. Your stories, your emotions, your creativity—they are irreplaceable. Lean into your humanity, trust your unique perspective, and remember that the world is waiting for what only you can write. In the end, no machine can tell your story like you can.

This article was written by Amy Guan and was republished with permission from Ever Editing.

A headshot of Amy Guan

Amy Guan

Co-Owner and Managing Partner, Ever Editing

I edit because I love it. I love plotting outlines, treading through unfamiliar topics, and discovering misplaced modifiers. Editing is an adventure, and I wouldn’t give it up for anything. I love playing video games (open world only), eating whatever my husband grabs from the clearance section at Asian Mart, and being taken on walks by my two big dogs. I have a BA in English and a minor in editing.

    Getting Unstuck from a Creative Rut

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    Do you ever feel like your wheels are spinning, but you’re not moving forward?

    As a missionary in Flagstaff, AZ, my companion and I literally got our truck stuck in a rut on a very narrow dirt road. I remember the panicked feeling of being trapped and not knowing how we would get home. It took some time, a dozen or so prayers, and a lot of trial and error. Finally, using some very handy sticks for traction and a lot of oomph, we managed to get our truck unstuck.

    This experience has never left me, and I think of it often when I’m mentally stuck in a rut, spinning my wheels with no progress, despite pressing the gas again and again. Personally, I don’t believe in writer’s block. I’m always able to put words on a page, even if they aren’t very good words. But, having struggled with motivation for certain projects, I do believe in creative ruts. Over the years, I’ve acquired a few useful tools that help me get unstuck. Here are five tips to help you get out of your own artistic ruts.

    Co-Create with Body Doubling

    I have a confession to make: I hate revisions. People who know me might raise their eyebrows. “But aren’t you an editor?” Well, yes. But I don’t hate revising other people’s stories—I hate revising my own. Without fail, I hit a wall. All the self-doubt I kept at bay while drafting comes sneaking in, mocking me and making me question all my writing choices. So to avoid that, I simply don’t start the revisions.

    This avoidance, however, has proven to be a major problem because it prevents me from making progress on any of my stories.

    I came up with an idea to help me with this particular rut. I invited several of my writing friends to hop on a Zoom call with me and just write for an hour. To my relief (and my story’s benefit), I discovered that having someone present while I wrote helped me overcome my motivation slump and actually start revising. I made my way through the murky fog of revision and emerged on the other side better for it.

    I still meet with writer friends every week for scheduled writing time, which has had a huge impact on my writing and revising. If you haven’t tried this, I highly recommend it. Having someone on a Zoom call with you makes it a lot harder to get sucked into distractions because you have a witness to your efforts and an accountability partner to return and report your progress to.

    Create in a Different Location

    Another tool that can help you get out of your creative rut is to change your location. On my bad mental health days, I’ve found that simply getting out of my usual space helps me get out of my head. I’ll go to the library or a local park and just enjoy the world around me. Notebooks and sketchbooks are handy tools for alternate locations. Being somewhere new can spark ideas you wouldn’t have otherwise thought of. If you’ve been tapping the same artistic vein nonstop for weeks, months, or even years in the same location, try changing it up. You might find some new ideas to help you work through whatever is keeping you in that rut.

    Explore a Different Medium

    I don’t consider myself an artist, at least not in the traditional sense. I have some talent in painting, but my people always look like stick figures. However, when my creativity is running low and I’m struggling to make sense of my story, switching things up by painting or sketching can be therapeutic. It allows me to experiment without the pressure of forcing myself to write. Painting especially helps me want to write more.

    Try this out for yourself: if you’re a painter, maybe try writing a poem. (See this article about poetry.) If you’re a writer, try painting or knitting. If you’re a musician, try cooking or cross-stitching. Put yourself in a different medium to get the creative juices flowing. You never know when the perfect idea will strike—it might be while you’re learning to make the perfect crème brûlée.

    Change Up the Format

    Another tool that’s helped me break out of my rut is changing up the format. Most of my writing is done on my desktop computer. However, there are days when I sit at my keyboard and can’t bring myself to write. I’ll check my email for the thousandth time or watch yet another short on YouTube, but completely neglect the project I want to be working on.

    This is where changing up the format comes into play. When I was a kid, I did most of my writing by hand—I have dozens of notebooks and journals to prove it. I still handwrite in my journal, but I rarely do so for stories anymore. Recently, my work-in-progress was being difficult, and my motivation was extremely lacking. On a whim, I put pen to paper in a blank notebook. To my surprise, I wrote seven-and-a-half pages in one session. I’d gotten myself out of the rut simply by changing how I wrote.

    Try experimenting with different formats. If you’re a composer who uses MuseScore, try composing by hand. If you’re a painter who mostly uses oil, try watercolors. If you’re a digital artist, sketch something on paper. Writers, try writing by hand or typewriter. The novel format will help you find new pathways forward.

    Follow Prompts

    What if you’ve tried it all and you are still struggling to get unstuck? Not to worry, my friends, I’ve got one more trick up my sleeve. Despite trying some of the tools mentioned above, I may still find myself completely and utterly unmotivated, uninspired, and unexcited about working on any of my projects.

    This is where prompts come in handy. Sometimes the scariest thing about starting a new project is just knowing where to start. Having constraints, such as “paint a picture with only primary colors,” “write a short story featuring a hamster, a poncho, and a hammer,” or “write a poem using only words that start with the letter ‘A’” can prime the pump. Constraints actually allow for more creativity because they force your brain to work within a set of defined parameters, and they give you a firm launch point.

    There are countless free prompts available online for all sorts of art. These can include prompts to write short stories with a specific setting, character, or genre; create a song in a certain key, time signature, or rhythm; paint something that starts with the letter “R” or only with black and yellow pigments; and plenty more. Let your muse take over and turn that blank page into an answer to the prompt.

    Creating is hard and can take a lot of energy. You’re bound to find yourself in a rut now and then when you work the same way over and over again. My hope is that these five tools will help you find the traction you need to get unstuck and get back to doing what you do best—inspiring others through your art.

    A headshot of KaTrina Jackson.

    KaTrina Jackson

    Author, Editor

    KaTrina Jackson loves penguins, chocolate, and piano music, and spends much of each day trying to fit those loves in around her jobs as a freelance editor and a project manager for Eschler Editing. She graduated with a degree in editing and publishing from Brigham Young University. She’s a member of three different writing groups, attends and teaches at multiple writing conferences, has volunteered with LDSPMA since 2021, and recently published her first novel. When she’s not writing, editing, or reading, she can be found practicing yoga, teaching piano lessons, or watching Disney movies while working on a cross-stitch project. She and her husband live in Olathe, Kansas.

      Releasing Your Inner Poet: Five Steps to Writing A Poem

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      Poetry is a beautiful form of expression that captures a range of human experiences. People might think poetry is a dying art. But believe it or not, you hear poetry every day. Catchy Disney songs? Poetry. The newest Taylor Swift hit? Poetry. K-Pop Demon Hunters power ballads? Poetry. Even the country music you despise? You guessed it. Poetry.

      Poetry doesn’t need to be set to music, though. Sometimes the words themselves are pure magic. If you’re a writer of any genre—fantasy, memoir, self-help, sci-fi, literary fiction—poetic elements can help sharpen details and hone imagery.

      But how do you do this? Do you just write, “Roses are red, violets are blue, poetry is awful, skip to my Lou?”

      I mean, you could. That is technically a poem.

      But if you want to practice writing meaningful poetry to improve your craft, I, as a published poet and professional poetry editor, recommend the following five steps.

      1. Observe the world around you.

      There are ideas everywhere; you just have to look for them. Most of my poems are inspired by things I’ve noticed or experienced throughout the day. The key is to set aside distractions and pay attention to your surroundings.

      To start, consider your location. As I write this, I’m sitting in my office, surrounded by knick-knacks, pictures, and mementos that inspire and comfort me. These include a mini anvil, a resin penguin princess (complete with a tiara), a lighthouse music box, dolphin figurines, uplifting quotes, and commissioned art.

      Through my window, a big tree is waving its green leaves in the wind. Snippets of sky peek between the roof of our apartment building and the great leafy tree. I spy the top of a building across the street. The sun’s rays warm my skin as my fingers dance across the keys. I hear the calming strains of jazzy piano from my favorite instrumental playlist and the whir of a ceiling fan. And I feel the gentle breeze from that same fan.

      Now you try. Pause where you are and observe the world around you. Write down what you see, what you hear, and what you feel. Don’t judge, just let the world be whatever it is and be present in the moment.

      2. Find one specific image or sense.

      Make a list of your observations. You could write a poem about everything, but it’s much easier (and creates stronger poetry) if you focus on one specific image.

      Here are a few examples from the exercise above:

      • The sun on my skin.
      • The gently waving tree leaves.
      • The icy sparkles of the penguin princess’s crown.
      • The gentle cadence of the fan in harmony with the jazzy piano.

      All these examples evoke a specific image, sound, or feeling. Your inspiration doesn’t have to be fancy. Just pick one thing from your list.

      3. Practice different forms.

      I’ve talked to many writers who’ve said, “I’m not a poet! I don’t know how to rhyme!”

      Poems don’t have to rhyme. Yes, rhyming is a feature of many poems (and some poets excel at it, like Dr. Seuss), but you don’t have to. I’ve published poems that rhyme and poems that don’t. Just find the form that fits the subject matter.

      Some poetic forms are quite complicated, like Shakespearean sonnets in iambic pentameter. Some are much simpler, such as the rhyming quatrain of an ABCB stanza (Emily Dickinson’s preferred form). Free verse, a common form of modern poetry, doesn’t conform to a particular format. However, to strengthen your descriptive muscles, I recommend following the advice of my poetry professor, who encouraged us to use a structured form. The constraints force your brain to think more creatively than just throwing any random words down.

      One of my favorite poetry forms is haiku, the Japanese poem written in a 5-7-5 syllable pattern. I love haiku because it’s simple and great for practice. It’s also versatile. I’ve written longer poems in renga (sequential haikus) format because the theme didn’t fit into just one verse.

      Traditionally, a haiku is about nature, but you can use the 5-7-5 syllable structure to talk about anything. Here are two examples from the above list…

      • The feel of the sun on my skin:

      Sunshine sparkles bright—

      rays warm my world-weary hands,

      filling me with peace.

      • The icy sparkles of the penguin princess’s crown:

      A royal penguin;

      her crown of ice gleams like gems,

      a mark of her rank.

      Your turn! Pick one of your images/senses and try writing a haiku. It’s okay if it takes some time to find the right number of syllables. No one masters poetry instantly. Relax and play around. You might be surprised by what ends up fitting the syllable structure.

      4. Read your poems aloud!

      Many beginning poets miss this step. As a poetry editor, I read the poems multiple times before I make a single edit, looking primarily at meter and rhyme. Sometimes poets think a word fits the meter when it doesn’t. If the line reads off, it’s likely because one of the words has too many syllables or the final word doesn’t fit the rhyme scheme (if there is one).

      For example, in the penguin princess haiku above, I originally wrote “her crown of ice sparkles like gems,” which is 8 syllables instead of 7.

      5. Revise as many times as necessary.

      Once you’ve read your poem aloud a few times, you can tweak it as needed. Be sure to examine every word and syllable on the page. You might find a word that fits the 5-7-5 structure better, as I found “gleam” to fit better than “sparkles.” Or, you might find a more perfect rhyme versus an imperfect rhyme (when/again instead of rain/again—English is weird like that).

      The lovely thing about poetry is that it’s easy to cross words out and give it another go, especially with something as short as a haiku. Don’t be afraid to try again. Poems are little snapshots of memory. Like a photograph, they don’t have to be perfect—they just need to capture the essence of what you felt in that moment.

      If you’re a budding writer—or an experienced one—looking for ways to deepen imagery or strengthen your character’s emotions and senses, try practicing these steps and creating your own poetry. Who knows? Maybe you’ll discover, like so many before you, you’ve been a poet all along and just didn’t know it… until now.

      May the powers of poetry be with you. Go forth and create!

      A headshot of KaTrina Jackson.

      KaTrina Jackson

      Author, Editor

      KaTrina Jackson loves penguins, chocolate, and piano music, and spends much of each day trying to fit those loves in around her jobs as a freelance editor and a project manager for Eschler Editing. She graduated with a degree in editing and publishing from Brigham Young University. She’s a member of three different writing groups, attends and teaches at multiple writing conferences, has volunteered with LDSPMA since 2021, and recently published her first novel. When she’s not writing, editing, or reading, she can be found practicing yoga, teaching piano lessons, or watching Disney movies while working on a cross-stitch project. She and her husband live in Olathe, Kansas.

        Writing: A Tool to Process Grief

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        Psychologists often recommend keeping a journal as a way to process thoughts and feelings, creating an outlet that can be shared or kept private. There’s something healing about pouring emotions onto a page. Sometimes this exercise is sufficient to help people process their feelings without any other therapy. At times, it aids the therapy they do undergo by helping them examine their deeper thoughts.

        I’ve known all about that for years, but I didn’t realize writing fiction is also an excellent way to explore what I’ve been through.

        For example, my parents divorced when I was a teenager. At the time, I chose to bury my feelings rather than work through them because my mother was relying on me for emotional support, and I believed I needed to stay strong and positive for her. Years later, I realized there were things holding me back. I knew it was time to revisit those feelings and give them a voice. I did so by writing a book titled Take My Advice. My main character was actually me. Everything she experienced was something I’d gone through myself. Of course, her story’s plot was fictional because my own life wasn’t exciting enough to write a book about, but everything relating to her parents’ divorce was based on my own thoughts and emotions as a confused and worried teen. Everything I’d wanted to say and everything I’d been afraid to feel ended up in that book. I won’t lie—it was painful, but it helped me understand myself better and recognize things I’d been reluctant to look at before. My feelings of betrayal, abandonment, and insecurity were finally allowed to rise to the surface, freeing me to begin healing from them. (Take My Advice by Tristi Pinkston, 2018.)

        Another example came when I was a young mother. My father passed away in 2010, and that was a different kind of grief altogether. I helped coordinate some of his care during his final days, and I spent a lot of time with him then. Because I felt I’d lost him a bit during the divorce—only seeing him once or twice a week—losing him again seemed utterly unfair. I was able to take those feelings and work through my grief by writing a book about a girl who lost her father—this one less autobiographical, but her emotions were still mine. (Turning Pages by Tristi Pinkston, first edition 2012, second edition 2019.)

        Although each of my stories contains aspects of myself in one way or another, these two books contain far more of “me” than any others. By having my characters voice something I’ve always wanted to say, I’m able to release some of those pent-up emotions in ways that feel constructive and healing, and that sort of vulnerability makes for a better story because it feels more authentic.

        I’ve also found it cathartic to give those characters satisfying endings. I might not have everything figured out myself, but by helping my characters find their answers, I’ve experienced a sense of closure that gives me peace until I can reach that point.

        Here are a few things I’ve learned as I took these painful experiences and made them into fiction:

        1. I need to give myself permission to write without restrictions or rules. The first draft is always the messiest because that’s where all the not-so-pretty feelings come out. I allow myself to say anything and everything I’ve been holding back, and it’s both painful and freeing. I don’t edit anything at this point; I just let the words flow until I’ve said everything I want to say.
        1. I’ve had to learn what to leave in and what to take out. A lot of that initial writing wasn’t needed for the book. In fact, much of it wasn’t appropriate to include. I’ve experienced things that were for me alone (such as answers to prayers and personal miracles) that I wouldn’t ever publish. Other things would have exposed me too much and made me even more vulnerable. By being selective about what to incorporate into the story, I can share what feels most valuable without giving too much of myself away. 
        1. I can use my fictional characters not only as the lens through which I see everything, but also as a shield so I can look at my own situation from a safe distance. Giving my thoughts and feelings to my characters allows me to analyze them, deciding which things I’m ready to let go of and which things still need some work to overcome.

        Above all, during this process, I’ve learned that the Savior walks with us every step of the way, hoping that we will give our griefs and sorrows to Him and stop trying to carry everything ourselves. We simply aren’t strong enough for that, no matter how hard we try. That’s why He invites us to come unto Him to find rest.

        I believe we are each blessed with a creative gift not only to beautify the world and uplift those around us, but as a method of releasing the hurts and the anxieties we feel because of our struggles. Writing is a gift I use to work through my trials, but it’s not the only medium available to us. Dancers, artists, singers, and many others use their own creative talents to strengthen their mental health and work through their own complicated emotions. I encourage each of you to explore ways to use your talents to release things that may be burdening you so that you can find healing.

        A headshot of Tristi Pinkston.

        Tristi Pinkston

        Tristi Pinkston is the mother of four, the wife of one, the author of one hundred and seventy-five, and the editor of oodles. She serves as the chairman of the board for the Bear Lake Arts Council and participates enthusiastically (if not with utmost skill) in their theatrical productions. She is currently the editor-in-chief for the resource library here on the LDSPMA website. You can learn more about her on her website.

          When Life Says NO: How to Recover from Major Unexpected Events

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          No one expects surgery to sneak up on them, much less a major abdominal surgery that leaves them incapacitated for a month, but that’s exactly what happened to me on March 3rd, 2026.

          It started with mild abdominal pain that worsened over the course of a few days until I couldn’t sleep. I headed to the ER, where they found that my large intestine had twisted over itself. This condition would need immediate surgical correction, or the consequences would be severe.

          Between health issues, my father’s passing, and job loss, my life has been filled with unexpected happenings of late. I didn’t wish for this kind of adventure, but this surgery taught me to slow down when life says no. My recovery took far longer than I anticipated, but once I’d been thrust into it, there wasn’t much I could do but rest, re-prioritize, and rejuvenate my soul and body as best I could.

          Here are some suggestions that helped me in my recovery and might help you, too.

          Prioritize What’s Important

          One of the biggest challenges during my recovery was that suddenly, I couldn’t do everything I wanted to do. My surgery resulted in an eight-inch incision on my abdomen. Moving, much less standing and sitting, caused great pain. So I had to learn to say no. Working as a freelancer, I hate saying no to anyone. I want to work on any and all projects that come my way because I never know when things will come again.

          But when your ability to function is limited, you must slow down. This means learning to let go of the things you can’t do. Whether that’s a project, a service opportunity, or an outing with a friend, just calmly explain your situation. Most people are very understanding, especially when unforeseen circumstances arise. Saying no can be painful, especially if you’re an overachiever like me. But it’s better to ration your energy than keep going until you burn out. Prioritize your recovery. Everything else can wait.

          Take Time to Rest

          As you rearrange your priorities, make sure to place rest at the top of the list. And I mean actual sleep: closing the eyelids and nodding off to dreamland. In the initial days after returning home, I slept more than I could have imagined. My surgery taught me rest is the best thing to help the body and brain reset and recover.

          Even after you start to feel normal—or mostly normal—you still need to take breaks. I’m not in as much physical pain as before, but I’m still taking naps when needed. Major events take time to recover from, and that is totally normal. Don’t push yourself to jump back into regular activities before you’re ready.

          Spend Time with Those You Love

          As you get back on your feet, make sure to spend time with the people who matter most. For me, the biggest comfort of my hospital stay was the visitors who came to check on me. Even simple text messages comforted my weary soul.

          Studies show that despite the technological advances we enjoy in our modern world, people are lonelier than ever. We need to spend time connecting with those we love because connection helps us feel less alone and boosts our mood, which helps us recover.

          Make sure you don’t overdo it. If spending time with friends feels utterly exhausting, it’s okay to let them know and take a break. Do things at your own pace. Just don’t shut out the people who care for you, especially when you’re hurting or grieving. People need people, even if that’s only one visit a week.

          Ask for Help

          Along with spending time with those you love, don’t be afraid to ask for help. Neither my husband nor I like asking people for help—we were raised to be independent and self-sufficient. But after my surgery, we realized we couldn’t do everything on our own. My energy was entirely focused on feeling better, while my husband focused on work. I had to set aside my stubbornness and ask for what I needed. Friends brought us food and helped us clean our apartment.

          Mosiah 2:18 reads “… when ye are in the service of your fellow beings, ye are only in the service of your God.” Give others a chance to serve God by serving you when you need it most.

          Give Yourself Grace

          Above all, be patient with yourself. Recovery doesn’t happen overnight, and especially after unexpected losses, the grief will last a while. Don’t put pressure on yourself to have everything back to normal as quickly as possible. Healing takes not only time, but also the Savior’s help. Give yourself grace by taking life one day at a time and giving some of that time to Him.

          Life is meant to be full of twists and turns (sometimes literally), for it is through experience that we grow. Life might say no in a variety of ways, but there are things we can do to not only recover from the unexpected, but gain from it. It may not be pleasant or easy, but sometimes life saying no turns out to be life-changing; it helps us become who God always meant for us to be.

          Headshot of KaTrina Jackson

          KaTrina Jackson

          Author, Editor

          KaTrina Jackson loves penguins, chocolate, and piano music, and spends much of each day trying to fit those loves in around her jobs as a freelance editor and a project manager for Eschler Editing. She graduated with a degree in editing and publishing from Brigham Young University. She’s a member of three different writing groups, attends and teaches at multiple writing conferences, has volunteered with LDSPMA since 2021, and recently published her first novel. When she’s not writing, editing, or reading, she can be found practicing yoga, teaching piano lessons, or watching Disney movies while working on a cross-stitch project. She and her husband live in Olathe, Kansas.

            How to Approach Feedback on Your Writing

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            Receiving edits from an editor, beta reader, or even a friend can be both exciting and daunting. It’s natural to feel a mix of emotions: nervousness to see what your reviewer thought about your manuscript, eagerness to dive into revisions, or apprehension about the work ahead. 

            Feedback can come in multiple forms. If it’s feedback from a beta reader, it might be a few paragraphs long and gloss over a handful of portions of your manuscript. If it’s from a copyeditor, you might get a style sheet and an entire manuscript’s worth of punctuation and grammar corrections. If it’s from a developmental editor, you’ll likely receive an editorial letter and pages of notes. No matter what kind of feedback you get, the following tips will help you interpret it and form a plan to revise your manuscript.

            Remember That Revisions Are Normal

            Going through feedback can be overwhelming. After all, you just handed off your book baby to a stranger! Receiving feedback that requires you to adjust a paragraph here and there may feel relatively easy, but it is another matter entirely to hear a suggestion that, if implemented, will require hours of planning and rewriting. Just take a breather and remind yourself that revisions are a normal step in the writing process.

            Recognize that feedback is not a critique of your writing abilities but a constructive assessment aimed at elevating your manuscript to its fullest potential. Every successful manuscript has been revised. It’s even safe to say that most manuscripts have gone through a plethora of revisions. Your manuscript is no different. Embrace the opportunity to learn and grow from the insights provided.

            Consider Others’ Perspectives

            Whether your reviewer is a professional in the publishing industry or a neighbor down the road, it’s important to consider his or her feedback, even if it differs from your own. One of the most valuable aspects of getting your manuscript reviewed is that there is distance between the novel and the reviewer. Unlike the writer of the manuscript, reviewers can look over the manuscript with fresh eyes. This means your reviewers are in a position to provide outside and objective insights that you as the creator may not be able to see. Their feedback will also reflect what other readers would notice as they read your book for the first time.

            Remember, reviewers provide feedback based on their expertise and experience. Editors have been specifically trained to learn how to make your manuscript successful. They bring a wealth of knowledge about what makes a story engaging and marketable to your target audience. Beta readers are avid readers who will recognize themes you should include in your novel. And perhaps a friend will give you some great pointers.

            No matter who your reviewers are, they will bring value to your manuscript.  It’s important to appreciate their time and effort and truly consider their feedback.

            Seek Clarity

            If you’re unsure about any aspect of the feedback, don’t hesitate to ask for clarification. When reaching out to your reviewer, be specific about the areas of the feedback that are unclear or require further explanation. This might involve asking for examples, elaboration on certain points, or additional context to better grasp the reviewer’s perspective.

            Once you clearly understand the feedback, you may want to brainstorm with the reviewer. Or perhaps you have implemented more changes and want his or her perspective on your next draft. Ask your reviewer if you can share new ideas with him or her based on his or her feedback. Going in a new direction with your manuscript or implementing a big change is scary, and receiving additional feedback and validation from another person so intimately acquainted with your work can be extremely motivating, spurring you to tackle the revision with a sense of purpose and confidence.

            Most reviewers are happy to provide more insight or look over your manuscript again. After all, they’re now invested in your story too. However, it is a good idea to check with reviewers to see when or if they have time to give more feedback. And if working with professionals, make sure to review your contract to see how many revisions are covered or if you will need to schedule and pay for a new round.

            Know What Your Feedback Will Look Like

            There are multiple kinds of feedback, and depending on what that feedback is will determine how you will implement it into your next draft. Let’s talk about a few kinds of revisions.

            Developmental Editing: Editors will indicate which big-picture aspects of your story need the most attention. They will provide detailed explanations of existing issues and how they can be changed. You may receive an editorial letter with a list of items to address or you may receive a document with comments in it or both. No matter what format the feedback comes in, it is important to read and digest all the feedback before you start revising. This way, you can get a clear picture of the reviewer’s overall assessment of your novel. From there, you can determine what changes you need to make and in what order they should be done. Then, you can start rewriting, cutting scenes, or shifting paragraphs around.

            Line Editing: Editors will use Track Changes, which is a feature in electronic documents that allows reviewers to track the changes they make so the writer can see what the reviewers do versus their original work. You will be able to accept or reject these changes in the document. If the changes are simple, like changing a word here and there, you can accept or reject them as you read them. But if the suggested changes affect the manuscript as a whole, it’s a good idea to read all the way through the document before accepting or rejecting changes.

            Copyediting: Editors also use Track Changes to make edits to the technical elements of your manuscript, such as punctuation, grammar, and stylistic consistency. Again, you will accept or reject these changes directly in the document. But since these are all changes that affect presentation and not the book overall, you can accept or reject them as you read.

            Proofreading: When editors look over your typeset document, they will either leave comments directly in the document that note the errors they’ve found, or they will send you an additional document containing a list that indicates the page, paragraph, and line of the error. If you typeset the document yourself, you can use these edits to update your document. If you hired a typesetter, forward this feedback on to the typesetter, and he or she will make sure the feedback is incorporated.

            It’s also important to note that there are no industry-standard ways to give feedback. So it may be smart to ask your editor what format he or she uses or to tell a beta reader that you prefer to review feedback in a specific format. Having proactive conversations like these can prepare you for the feedback you will receive.

            Choose Which Feedback to Implement

            Not all feedback needs to be accepted. In fact, you can choose to accept or reject whatever feedback you like. (This may not be true if you have a contract with a publishing firm. So make sure to double-check that.) However, even though you can choose how to shape your manuscript, it is important to consider the reviewer’s expertise and your publishing goals when deciding which revisions to implement.

            Consider the type of edit done. For example, copyediting adheres to established rules and industry standards, meaning these revisions should typically always be accepted. Developmental edits, on the other hand, may involve significant changes to plot, story structure, or character development, which means they are open to interpretation and should be weighed carefully.

            Next, think about what pros and cons come with accepting or rejecting feedback. For example, if your editor advises reducing the word count to meet industry standards, you can choose not to, but be aware that it may be more difficult to get your book traditionally published. On the other hand, if one out of ten of your beta readers has a negative reaction to a certain character and suggests changes to improve that character, you might not need to implement his or her feedback. But if the majority of your beta readers have a negative reaction to that character, implementing their feedback and changing that character may be in your best interest.

            When looking over feedback, you should also think about your reviewer’s background. Does your reviewer have any credentials that would make their feedback more credible? Is your reviewer familiar with the publishing industry and giving suggestions that will make your manuscript more successful in a particular genre? Or is his or her feedback based on personal preference? For example, let’s say your manuscript focuses on a particular culture, and your reviewer has given you feedback suggesting you make changes to the description of that culture. You should evaluate your reviewer’s expertise in this area. Is he or she making this suggestion because he or she wants the story to be more familiar to him or her? Or is he or she a sensitivity reader who is familiar with the culture? If the former, you most likely don’t need to implement the feedback; if the latter, you probably should.

            It’s also important to remember that your story is uniquely yours. If the feedback you receive doesn’t sit well with you, you do not have to incorporate it into your next draft. For instance, let’s say your story is about two sisters growing up on a potato farm in Idaho. Your reviewer suggests making your characters a brother and sister instead of two sisters. Your reviewer may have a list of good reasons behind this change, and these changes may make your book more marketable. However, you may choose not to accept this suggestion because you have tension with your own brother, which would make it difficult to write about a brother and sister in the manuscript. Or perhaps you’ve been envisioning this book being about two sisters for decades and simply can’t part with that idea. Either way, it’s also important to stay true to your own vision for your manuscript.

            Deciding which feedback to implement is a lot of work. Make sure to evaluate each recommendation in light of your creative vision and narrative goals while also accounting for your reviewers’ expertise and industry standards.

            Remember, the editorial process is a collaboration aimed at elevating your work to its fullest potential. Every piece of feedback is a valuable opportunity to enhance your writing skills and bring your manuscript closer to publication. By balancing your writing goals with constructive feedback, you can navigate the editing process and feel great about the story you put out into the world.

            This article was written by and republished with permission from Ever Editing.

            Margaret Blair Young and the Power of Stories that Matter

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            In a small town in the Democratic Republic of the Congo, a man stares at a hand-bound book in disbelief. Inside are the pages of his own story.

            “I’ve been poor my whole life,” he says. “I’ve been cheated out of a lot of things. But look, there’s a book about me.”

            For filmmaker and former Brigham Young University creative writing professor Margaret Blair Young, moments like this emphasize the power of storytelling. Throughout her career, Young has used stories to restore voices that history has overlooked—stories that heal, foster understanding, and illuminate faith.

            Young’s work documenting the history of Black members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints began in 1998. “I had written quite a few books,” she recalls, “but I wanted to do something that really mattered.”

            After praying for guidance and receiving a blessing from her husband that confirmed her spiritual promptings, she latched onto this idea: “Why don’t I write stories of Black Mormon pioneers?”

            Soon afterward, she met Darius Gray under what she calls “pretty miraculous circumstances.” Gray is a journalist, businessman, and expert in Black Latter-day Saint history. He’s been actively engaged in human rights and civil rights causes for decades.

            “I actually had a cassette tape recording of him in my purse because I had ordered it while doing research,” Young recalls.

            When the two connected, Young had already written about one hundred pages. After reading the manuscript, Gray recognized the importance of the work. He looked over it and said, “Let’s do this together.”

            Young and Gray delved into history and wrote a trilogy of novels, Standing on the Promises, about the lives of early Black Latter-day Saints. When the pair began, these stories were largely undocumented. Even after publication, they continued to uncover new information that corrected earlier assumptions.

            “It’s a history that wasn’t terribly well known,” Young explains, likening the research required to that of three PhD dissertations.

            Confronting Racism in Church History

            Young’s work led to the documentary Nobody Knows: The Untold Story of Black Mormons, which explores the experiences of Black Church members before and after the 1978 revelation extending priesthood and temple blessings to all worthy male members.

            “We could say things that Church leaders couldn’t necessarily say and really hit the complexities and the depths of the issues head on.”

            Before the documentary’s release, Young and her collaborators showed it to the Church History Department and several General Authorities. The project was well received.

            Young’s determination to address such complexities stems from personal experience. She first confronted racism directly at fourteen when her seminary teacher used a racial slur in class.

            “I had a really visceral reaction to it.” She dropped out of seminary because of the incident. “That kind of [intensified] my own realization that we had a problem we needed to deal with.”

            Sharing Jane Manning James’s Story

            Young turned to creative work to confront the problem. She wrote the play I Am Jane about early pioneer Jane Manning James. When it was performed in Springville, Utah, around 2001, the production sold out and drew audiences from across the state. Many said they’d needed to hear Jane’s story, especially her petitions to President John Taylor asking about temple blessings. Young’s play captures the spirit of Jane’s appeal: If this was truly the “fullness of times,” and the promises to Abraham meant all people could be blessed, where was her blessing?

            Jane’s faith and courage invited audiences to open their hearts and recognize Christ in every person they encounter.

            In October 2020, President Russell M. Nelson called on members to “lead out in abandoning attitudes and actions of prejudice.” For Young, that work begins with recognizing when conversations are built on racist assumptions or when history is minimized or ignored.

            Meaningful change, she believes, begins within individuals. Too often, conversations about racism end quickly, dismissed with a clever comment or meme. Real growth begins with humility and willingness to examine one’s own heart. The point is not condemnation but to allow God to reveal attitudes that might otherwise remain invisible.

            “Ask the Lord to help you discern where [racist views] are and how you can clear them out.”

            For Young, confronting prejudice is not separate from faith. It’s a central part of it. Latter-day Saints have a unique foundation for combating racism in the Book of Mormon, which repeatedly emphasizes unity and equality.

            “There were no ‘ites’ among them. That should be the foundation for everything we do.”

            A New Calling In the Congo

            Young’s work eventually expanded beyond American history. “Darius was… the one who told me a whole lot about Africa.”

            At the time, she and her husband were serving in an MTC branch where missionaries were learning to speak French. Through those missionaries—many of whom were preparing to serve in Africa—she began corresponding with individuals in the Democratic Republic of the Congo.

            “Cinema had died about forty years ago in the Congo,” she explains. Government corruption and economic collapse left once-beautiful areas abandoned and in ruins. Yet she believes film offers a path toward renewal. “Cinema allows us to present new narratives.”

            At first, Young thought they would be “making a movie that happened to be set in the Congo, but was maybe filmed somewhere else.” Instead, they discovered they were meant to support a Congolese team in reviving the country’s cinema industry.

            Following the Work

            Young realized that individualized storytelling could bring even more meaning to the community. When the team traveled to a remote town, the Congolese film director discovered his great-aunt living there. His mother had lost her own mother in childbirth, and this aunt had cared for her.

            His great-aunt wept throughout their meeting. Because they spoke different languages, a translator helped them communicate. The following year, the team returned with his mother so the two could reunite.

            Experiences like these confirm the stories of the Congolese people are waiting to be told. Young believes these stories carry a sacred weight, revealing the true character of a nation often portrayed only as a tragedy. She feels called to help share a broader vision of the Congo—one that reveals its beauty and reminds people that its citizens are “our brothers and sisters,” and that “we should strive to have ‘no ‘ites’ among us in our hearts.”

            Young’s team collected oral histories from residents eager to share their experiences.

            “We would bind the books using whatever materials they could find—cardboard, fabric…” With a generator powering the printer, Young helped students produce books featuring their own photographs.

            The long-term vision was to create a library made up entirely of local stories. Many had lived through the devastating war that ended in 2003. “Some of the stories are horrifying, but they matter.”

            Finding Her Path

            Looking back, Young does not describe her path as carefully planned. She says it unfolded simply by being willing to begin.

            “I don’t know that you’d want to follow the way I do things because I’m a little bit crazy,” she laughs. But her approach has always been rooted in openness, paying attention to ideas that feel meaningful, and acting on them before the full path is visible.

            “If you’re not moving, not much will happen.” Her advice is to pray about what kind of work might bring good into the world, then begin. “Be open to anything. Trust that when you start doing something that is truly meant to edify and bring greater light into the world, it will be sustained.”

            For Young, the work has always been about helping people see one another more clearly and remembering that every life holds a story worth telling.

            This article is based on a Called to Create podcast aired season 1, episode 11. To hear the full podcast, click here.

            Why and How to Recognize AI Writing

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            Can you really spot AI writing? Here are the subtle clues to look for.

            One of the biggest topics being debated in the writing world is how to approach or handle AI in writing. On one hand, AI can be an incredibly helpful tool for authors. It can help brainstorm, organize research, spark ideas, explore alternative verbiage, help you remember how to use a certain phrase—all things that most people agree can boost the writing process in a great way. 

            On the other hand, there are many fears about AI writing becoming a replacement for real writing—whether that means writers relying on AI or AI replacing humans altogether. 

            The key is to use AI responsibly and not let it replace your own voice. Readers can tell when AI has been used too freely, even if they don’t immediately recognize what’s off. When people copy and paste whole paragraphs of AI-generated content, that’s when inaccuracies, fabricated sources, awkward phrasing, or overly formal styles are noticeable. 

            Why Should Writers Learn to Recognize AI Writing?

            Why is it important for writers and readers to recognize AI writing? Here are a few reasons:

            To Stop Misinformation

            AI can and has spread inaccurate facts and information in the publishing industry.

            Imagine following a top summer reading list published by multiple newspapers only to realize that 10 of the 15 books were just made up by AI and, worst of all, were attributed to real authors. That actually happened in May 2025 in newspapers like the Chicago Sun-Times and The Philadelphia Inquirer. Notably, the fake reading list was published just two months after the Chicago Sun-Times had announced that 20% of its staff had accepted buyouts as the paper dealt “with fiscal hardship.” Naturally, subscribers were outraged, and the situation sparked debates online about publishing standards and credibility in a time when AI is being used more and more.

            Now imagine browsing books on Amazon, finding an intriguing one with numerous positive reviews, only to realize the reviews seem to be written by AI. And maybe the book itself is AI-generated. That is all too common now.

            AI-written “companion” books (summaries, workbooks, and guides of legitimate books) are also becoming a widespread problem on Amazon. These low-quality books are designed to piggyback on the success of new, human-written books by using nearly identical titles and the original author’s own name. By the time these books are caught and taken down, damage has already been done in the form of stolen sales, ruined reputations, and confused readers.

            Recognizing AI writing helps writers judge the trustworthiness of certain sources and ensure the accuracy of references. This is especially important for authors of nonfiction books.

            Generative AI chatbots are designed to be very agreeable, and their responses to prompts sound very authoritative and convincing, even when they are completely wrong. Many writers—or, unfortunately, their readers—are finding that AI boldly cites sources that don’t exist, attributes fake quotes to characters, or proclaims wrong details as truth. Authors, reporters, and lawyers who have relied on AI to assist them in writing have taken public hits to their reputations for publishing incorrect information. Learning to spot AI writing can help authors choose credible and real sources. 

            To Protect the Revision Process

            Some authors have paid for beta reading services only to discover later that the “feedback” was produced entirely by AI. The so-called beta readers confidently referenced sentences and ideas that didn’t exist anywhere in the manuscript, leaving the authors with wasted time and money, not to mention reduced confidence in the revision process.

            Being aware of AI writing could help authors—especially those self-publishing—put safeguards in place to find beta readers who won’t use AI and to spot AI-generated feedback.

            Some ways authors can carefully vet beta readers include reading detailed client reviews instead of relying on five-star ratings, utilizing reputable author circles for recommendations, and exchanging a small sample at first. Authors can also request examples of the reviewer’s work, use AI content detectors (imperfect as they currently are) as a preliminary screening tool, and request to pay for services after the feedback is received. For more on this topic, see 7 Ways Writers Can Prevent Beta Readers From Submitting AI-Generated Feedback.

            Occasionally checking out publishing forums, such as r/selfpublish, is a great way to stay informed on recent trends and pitfalls in the publishing industry.

            To Preserve Creative Writing

            From deciding to engage with a lengthy post on Reddit to picking a book, readers want to read content that is original, nuanced, relatable, and real. Aka, the kind of content that comes from lived experience.

            Almost every piece of published creative writing comes with an unspoken agreement between writer and reader: that it is written by another person. We care that care has been put into the media we consume and become invested in.

            AI can suggest ideas, but it struggles to form cohesive storylines or maintain consistent character and plot threads. Writers who can see these shortcomings can better appreciate the skill they bring to their own work.

            How Can Writers Recognize AI Writing?

            When it comes to AI writing, there are no hard and fast methods to determine if a piece of text is, in fact, AI. AI-detection software is getting better, but so is AI. The only indisputable way to tell if someone is using AI models, like ChatGPT, Copilot, and Gemini, in their writing is if they forget to cut out their prompt.

            But the more AI-generated content is used in online discourse, social media, emails, and even creative works, the better we are getting at identifying it. This is because people are wired to recognize faulty patterns, inconsistent tones, and unnatural expressions. That’s why the concept of the uncanny valley—when something looks or sounds almost human, but feels slightly off—is a thing we pick up on fast.

            You can also identify multiple clues found in AI writing patterns that indicate the writing likely wasn’t written by a human. If you see a few of these clues in what you’re reading, be wary of the source.

            First Clue: A Dramatic Change

            The best clue might ultimately be familiarity. If a person’s writing style shifts dramatically within the same piece of content, or if they use more complex vocabulary or grammatical phrases than usual, it stands out. A sudden shift in tone, style, verbiage, etc., is something to take note of.

            Second Clue: Frequent Em Dashes

            A common attribute of AI-generated writing is its frequent use of em dashes. It is no surprise that AI favors em dashes, since AI models are trained on real human writing. And writers love em dashes!

            Em dashes are some of the most versatile punctuation—they can function like a colon, semicolon, parentheses, or even comma. Those of us who love to write probably use em dashes on an hourly basis; however, the general public does not—especially on social media.

            Because em dashes are easily identifiable, a piece of informal content like social media posts or articles that are filled with them may be an early indicator that AI was used, because humans likely wouldn’t use em dashes in these contexts as much.

            Third Clue: Overly Formal and Structured

            Remember the structured paragraph essay format you were taught in school? Introduction (broad overview and thesis statement), body paragraphs (supporting details and transition phrases), and conclusion (restatement of introduction). That structure was designed to teach students how to organize their thoughts clearly and is still used in professional reports, proposals, and academic-adjacent writing. But in everyday situations, few people write this way. AI, on the other hand, often does.

            AI tends to default to professional or academic language. It favors grammatically perfect sentences with predictable connectors like “furthermore,” “in addition,” or “it’s not x but y.” While these phrases aren’t wrong, their overuse can make the writing feel stiff, robotic, and overly polished. The issue is when this formula shows up in places where writing is usually more flexible, like emails, social media, casual articles, or creative writing. The rigid structure of the formula throws the casual tone off.

            In short, if the writing feels like it came out of a textbook or a standardized test—especially in places where a looser or more conversational tone would make sense—it might be AI.

            Fourth Clue: Surface-Level Substance

            AI-generated writing tends to lack substance. This is partly because AI is trained to predict what sounds plausible or typical, not what’s nuanced or new. As a result, its writing often resembles marketing copy: agreeable and inoffensive. But unlike marketing copy, which is typically concise and snappy, AI-generated writing tends to be verbose and overly relies on metaphors to explain simple concepts. You’ll notice familiar buzzwords, vague clichés, and an overall upbeat tone that avoids conflict or complexity.

            In sum, it’s writing that wants to please everyone.

            Fifth Clue: No Mistakes/Too Perfect

            We’ve all encountered the red or blue lines that show up under our misspelled words or incorrectly formatted phrases. And what are the programs that mark our mistakes powered by? AI. So it makes sense that AI-generated writing rarely contains typos, misspellings, or incorrect grammar.

            But flawless grammar and punctuation just isn’t part of the writing process, especially in early drafts. And flawless content is often not the goal in the first place. People bend grammar to sound more natural or to make a point or to simply be creative. We start messy and then revise. We leave a sentence fragment for emphasis. AI can’t make those intentional deviations effectively.

            So, when you encounter flawless and overly professional or stiff text on places like social media, that may be an indication of AI.

            Authors can use AI to support their work, but they must do so responsibly—for their readers and themselves.

            These are all helpful clues—but that’s all they are. Even when several signs point toward AI, there’s still plenty of room for doubt. Writers who use em dashes and ensure their writing is error-free shouldn’t feel afraid that their work will be confused with AI. Unless you have hard evidence, it’s best to assume the writing came from a human.

            Make AI a tool, not a replacement. At the end of the day, readers love, value, cherish, connect with, and pay for books written by humans.

            This article was written by Amy Guan and was republished with permission from Ever Editing.

            A headshot of Amy Guan

            Amy Guan

            Co-Owner and Managing Partner, Ever Editing

            I edit because I love it. I love plotting outlines, treading through unfamiliar topics, and discovering misplaced modifiers. Editing is an adventure, and I wouldn’t give it up for anything. I love playing video games (open world only), eating whatever my husband grabs from the clearance section at Asian Mart, and being taken on walks by my two big dogs. I have a BA in English and a minor in editing.