Category: Writing Tips

TikTok is Bad for your Writing

~ Brooke F. ~ Leave a comment

And in other news, water is wet!

Please excuse the obvious titling. In truth, it’s not just TikTok specifically, though, that has been the newest catalyst for this problem I’m experiencing regarding social media and its relationship to the creative process. You might be wondering: what problem exactly am I referring to? What is there to be said on this topic that hasn’t already been reiterated numerous times online? Social media is distracting and, therefore, we become too distracted to create. Duh. We all know this.

And yes, this much is true. Social media is horrible for our attention spans, but I’m going to take a break from railing against this specific issue and focus on another one that I have personally experienced this month. This is the issue of inspiration overload and the resulting creative paralysis that ensues.

I love a good Pinterest scroll. This was my first social media of choice as a teen. I felt like it helped me get started on a project by getting my brain churning with endless inspiration. It had it all! Writing prompts, concept art, writing playlists, tips, life hacks—everything!!!

For the most part, I walked away from my Pinterest scrolls feeling positive at this time. I’d scroll with a specific goal in mind, further develop an idea, pin a few pins (or even create a new board for this one idea), and then walk away within 10–15 minutes. Done!

I don’t know where I went wrong… well, I have a guess, so let’s discuss.

There came a point where my social media habits became less orderly. As an adult, school took up less time, I got on additional social media, and simultaneously, those platforms became more attention-grabbing and endless. I remember a time when you could scroll Instagram and it would eventually give you a message like, “That’s it! You’ve seen everything new that there is to see! Now go do something else!”

It definitely no longer does this.

You can scroll and scroll and scroll. This is true of every social media platform right now.
“It’s for inspiration!” I’d say. After all, it was writing-related content that I was consuming. After a point, however (whether due to the nature of the content or the sheer amount of it), I found it very easy to slip into the role of consumer as opposed to creator. Ideally, you should be able to do both, but that does require a certain level of balance that feels nearly impossible to obtain. What is that magic amount of time to scroll BookTok or Pinterest concept art before the very practice itself becomes a creativity-eating monster?

What I found was that after consuming copious amounts of writing content, I was hit with this intense feeling of creative paralysis. I recalled the gazillions of writing tips and do’s and don’ts. I recalled all that I should be doing. Show, don’t tell. Use metaphors. Don’t use metaphors. Use them sparingly. Adverbs are evil. Adjectives are evil. Passive voice is okay. Passive voice is evil. Develop your world entirely before writing. It will develop as you write, and then you have to rewrite it all. Put your character development above worldbuilding. Worldbuilding is key. And blah, blah, blah, blah.

I can’t write and I suck. That’s the conclusion of today’s writing session.

You see, we weren’t made to have this many voices speaking into our lives, much less our creative process.

At some point, inspiration stops being fuel and starts being noise. And while social media loves to market itself as a wellspring of creativity, it rarely tells us when to stop drinking. Creativity, at least for me, doesn’t thrive in a crowded room full of opinions shouting over one another. It needs quiet. It needs boredom. It needs the uncomfortable stretch of sitting with an idea long enough for it to become something mine.

So maybe the solution isn’t cutting out inspiration entirely, but treating it with a little more intention and a lot more restraint. Fewer voices. Fewer rules. More trust. Because the work doesn’t happen in the scroll. It happens when you finally close the app, sit down, and let yourself write badly, imperfectly, and freely again.

So happy late new year! Let’s make stuff again and give it a rest. The mantra I want to embody this year is Less is more. No more drinking out of a fire hose. Let’s try to think of it more as taking a sip from a well. Slow and steady.

The Ultimate Guide to Using AI to Write a Novel

~ Brooke F. ~ 6 Comments

Hello, readers! I’ve got a useful “writing” guide for you today. I realize that I’ve dedicated this blog to writing tips on how to better one’s craft, so what’s more on theme with that mission than making a guide on how to use AI to accelerate your “writing” process! No, not editing. Writing. The writing itself. You read that right. Read on to figure out how you can craft a best seller without typing a single paragraph of prose and bothering with the whole pesky process of… actually thinking up original ideas and how to effectively communicate that to your readers.

In short, in today’s rapidly accelerating digital age, writers have unprecedented tools at their disposal. With the rise of artificial intelligence, crafting an entire manuscript has never been easier. Why rely on your own voice, perspective, or hard-earned life experience when a silicon parrot can spit back something resembling prose?

Step 1: Pick Your Genre

Choose a genre you love deeply. Something personal. Something meaningful. Then immediately ignore all of that and ask AI to brainstorm “10 hot book ideas in any genre that sells.” Even try “trending book themes” if you’re at a loss for what moral you should convey in this piece. Morality should be determined by mas market, which is what your AI companion will reflect.

Step 2: Prompt the AI… a Lot.

Type a prompt. Then rewrite it fourteen times because the AI keeps misunderstanding your “tone.”
(It’s almost like… writing? Except somehow worse.)

“Make it more whimsical.”
“But also somber.”
“But also funny, but not too funny.”
“And can it sound like me even though I haven’t written a word?”

Step 3: Marvel at How Fast the Words Appear

After all, this is the age of INSTANT gratification. Our writing process should evolve to follow suit. Books should be written in the time it takes to make instant oatmeal. That’s how you get a meaningful piece of work worth sharing with the world.

Step 4: Experience the Sudden Realization That This… Is Mediocre

Realize that this work is nothing but a Frankenstein of everything that has come before it. With extra emphasis on what’s been trending in writing in the last 5 years. As everyone knows, literature peaked when Romantasy Slop started being churned out and hitting shelves. These books are all so similar, you can’t quite remember if you’ve read them before or not, but that’s alright, the indulgent story beats are comforting if not entirely formulaic and overdone… right? We read for comfort. Comfort should always be a priority in literature at all times. At. All. Times. Do NOT present anything discomforting or something that could be perceived as causing your reader to THINK.

Wait, what we’re we talking about again.

Step 5: Denial or Rewrite

You’re at a crossroads at this step. You can continue to tell yourself it’s fine and send it off for publishing anyway, or you can attempt to salvage your AI slop by editing. A lot. Please, by all means, continue editing. Realize every sentence feels like it was handcrafted by someone who has never tasted food, felt sunlight, or endured a junior-high breakup. Rewrite one paragraph. Then two.

Suddenly, you’ve rewritten the entire chapter.

Suddenly, you’re rewriting the entire book.

Congratulations! You have now done the exact amount of work you were trying to avoid in the first place. You’ll tell yourself this is simply “refining your AI-assisted draft,” but really you’ve rewritten 90% of it because your actual human brain finally woke up and said, “No. This is wrong. It sounds wrong and it’s not good.”

Step 6: Face the Existential Crisis

Ask yourself why you thought skipping the workout would get you stronger.
Then look at AI and realize it’s not your writing partner. It can’t write for you in the same way it can go on a run for you, make a call to your mother for you, can’t eat healthy for you, can’t laugh for you, can’t love people for you, can’t, can’t, can’t.

The shortcut is so tempting, and AI companies will lead you to believe that the possibilities of AI are endless. Sure, there are uses to be explored, but AI is not endless, nor should it be. AI will never write a novel for you. AI will never be a human for you. It is in its name. It is against its very nature. You are human. Writing is in YOUR nature.

Author’s note:

This is not an ultimate condemnation of AI. More so a thought exercise to make sure we’re not using it irresponsibly. I’m quite curious how AI can function as an editing assistant or writing prompt generator. But the sudden flood of AI slop books on Amazon, where not a single word was penned by a being with a brain, has me clutching my pearls a bit. Feel free to leave your thoughts in the comments below, AI in writing has become a common topic on this blog as it invades the writing world, for better worse, and I’m always happy to hear others’ thoughts on these changes.

k byeeee! Thanks for reading!

Writing When You Don’t Believe in the Ending (Yet)

~ Brooke F. ~ 1 Comment

When I was in middle school, I had no qualms about just opening a Word doc and shooting from the hip. Who cares, right?? I’m in middle school. But as an adult, I can tell you a completely different story…

My tune has definitely since changed. As self-doubt and perfectionism have become a more prevalent issue in my writing life, I have found that writing when you know where you’re headed is not always easy. Even when you’ve got the finish line in sight, writing WITH a plan is hard enough.

But writing when you don’t believe in the ending? When you’re not even sure if the ending is good, or if the whole thing is worth finishing? That can be a little petrifying or even a slog depending on your personality. That’s like trudging through fog with no map and hoping you’re still on track.

And honestly, that’s where a lot of us live, I think.

We start a project full of enthusiasm, picturing readers crying or laughing at the perfect final scene. Then somewhere around the middle, the plot feels flat, the characters stop talking to us, and we start wondering if we’ve just wasted months of our life. Or maybe we planned the ending and Oh Shoot! It doesn’t feel like it fits anymore! What now???

My advice?

1. Remind yourself you don’t have to believe in it to keep going

You can keep typing even while thinking, This is probably terrible. You can finish a chapter while doubting whether it will all make sense in the end. Doubt doesn’t have to be a stop sign. Resign it to some annoying background noise, and you may even forget about it. Try and loosen up a bit and actually enjoy this whole writing ordeal; otherwise, it may be worth abandoning altogether if you cannot find a shred of enjoyment in it. Just don’t be so hard on yourself, and maybe attempt to write through the doubt.

2. Lower the bar when you’re in the fog

If you can’t see the grand, perfect ending right now, fine. Just write the next part. You’re not committing to keeping it forever. You’re committing to getting it down on the freaking page. Sometimes a clunky placeholder scene is the bridge to the better one you’ll write later. This is the whole “one foot in front of the other” tactic and it works rather nice in my opinion.

3. Let the ending find you

The pressure to “have it all figured out” before you get there will kill your momentum. Sometimes you only discover the right ending after you’ve written the wrong one. Keep moving forward and trust that clarity comes from progress. I have often found that the right ending can come to me when I see how these characters have progressed and grown. I am better equipped by the end of the story to say “ahhh this feels right.”

4. Remember: every story feels worse in the middle

Middles are messy. You’re too close to see what’s working, and your brain is wired to spot flaws. But a finished draft, even a shaky one, can be fixed. An abandoned draft can’t. At the end, you can always edit but you cannot edit what isn’t even there!

5. Have something else that carries you through

Chances are, some redeeming elements about this story that made you start it in the first place, even if it wasn’t the ending itself. What are those elements? The characters? Your interesting or complex MC? The side romance you want to write? That scene in the middle where you reveal that plot twist? Maybe focus on that instead of the hazy or non-existent light at the end of the tunnel

In conclusion, I shall restate my hypothesis (just as my science teachers HAMMERED in my head): Write the next sentence. Then the next. Then keep going until you stumble right into the ending you didn’t see coming but are actually quite delighted with because it’s one that feels RIGHT.

Everyday Writing Tips: How to Write an Email

~ Brooke F. ~ 3 Comments

So here’s the deal: writing is kind of my big/main hobby. But even though I love crafting poems and playing with metaphors, sometimes the most stressful kind of writing is the everyday stuff. Emails. Cover letters. Thank-you notes. That weird blur of casual-but-still-professional communication that no one really teaches you how to do (at least in my experience. Maybe your parents really did you a solid and helped you out here).

Hence: this new blog series. I’m calling it “Everyday Writing Tips”. Today’s topic is email writing. Yaknow, “How to Sound Like a Functioning Adult Without Using “thank you” 47 Times in an Email.”

These posts are for anyone who’s ever stared at a blank screen thinking, “How do I start this? Am I being too awkward? Too formal? Do I need to say ‘hope you’re doing well’ or has that too over the top??”

Like I mentioned, we’re starting off with how to write an email. It’s something we all do, but somehow still overthink. I’ll break down a basic email structure, give you some go-to phrases (and a few to maybe retire), and help you send that message with a little more confidence and a little less spiraling and overthinking.

Let’s get into it and move along…

The Anatomy of a Non-Awkward Email

1. Subject Line:
Make it clear. Make it useful. Think “Question about Thursday’s Meeting” or “Follow-Up on Resume Submission” not “Hi!” or “Quick Thing :)” (vague and unhelpful) (unless you’re emailing your best friend or your mom or something).

2. The Opening Line:
Ah yes, the dreaded start (often the hardest part). If you’re unsure, “Hi [Name],” is a safe bet. Or a quaint little “Good afternoon [Person]”
Depending on the vibe, you can go:

  • Professional: “I hope this message finds you well.”
  • Casual: “Hope you’re having a good week so far!”
  • Direct (but not cold): “I wanted to reach out about…”

If you’re overusing “just,” take this as your sign to delete it. You probably don’t just want to ask them something, you want to ask them something. Be bold.

3. The Body:
Get to the point, kindly. If you’re making a request, say it clearly. If you’re giving info, organize it so it’s easy to skim. Don’t bury your important info. Use short paragraphs and bullet points if needed.

Example:
“I’m reaching out to confirm a few details for Thursday’s meeting:

  • Time
  • Location
  • Any materials you’d like me to bring”

Clear, kind, human. Boom, you’re done! Great job! Sound the applause! Now you can stop feeling like you’re going to throw up with professional anxiety.

4. The Closing:
Don’t overthink it. A few go-to sign-offs:

  • “Best” (simple and safe)
  • “Thanks” (if you’re asking for something)
  • “Take care” (friendly)
  • “Talk soon” (casual but not too casual)
  • My go-to is a simple “Kind regards”

And unless you’re a scammer, phisher, or hacker, please sign your name.

A Few Bonus Tips

  • Tone check: Read it out loud. If it sounds like you’re a robot or someone who’s about to cry, you might want to tweak it.
  • Be concise: Respect people’s time. Say what you need to say, and let them get back to their inbox abyss. Chances are they have a lot to weed through on this fine Monday morning.

K, I think that’s it??

But to conclude…The goal isn’t to be perfect. It’s to be clear, respectful, and gracious. But, that’s it for Email 101. Feel free to drop any suggestions below for this series. ‘Til then, happy emailing.

Writing Advice I’d Give to My 15-Year-Old Fanfiction-creating Self

~ Brooke F. ~ 2 Comments

AKA: Yes, You Should Write That Cringy Avatar Fanfic

Oh, 15-year-old me. Curled up on the family desktop after school, typing out wildly dramatic plotlines where a girl finds out she has the powers to control all 4 natural elements who is definitely just me in disguise. You were doing your best. And honestly? You were onto something.

There are so many things I’d tell you if I could. Not because you were doing it all wrong but because I now understand just how right it was, even when it felt like complete and utter nonsense at the time. And just plain cringy to high school me. Forgive her sneering at your work.

So here it is. A letter of sorts. From the grown-up you, to the one who stayed up too late posting on fanfiction forums and thinking no one would ever take her seriously:

1. Don’t Delete Anything. Seriously.
I know. You want to. It feels so cringe. You reread your old stories and immediately want to toss your laptop into the nearest volcano. Resist the urge.

Every awkward sentence and every overly dramatic plot twist is proof you are a writer. You were writing! You were learning! You were creating! That “bad” writing? That’s the compost that future stories grow in. Keep the files. Keep the notebooks. Keep the Wattpad drafts. One day, you’ll look back and smile and maybe even reuse a line or a character name you forgot you loved.

2. Don’t Be So Self-Conscious
No one is watching you as closely as you think. You’re allowed to be messy, weird, experimental, emotional. That’s the whole point. It’s not a performance. It’s an outlet, a joy, a spark. Let yourself be fully into it, cringe and all.

And no, writing doesn’t have to become your job for it to be “real.” It can be a hobby. Or A side hustle. Or a comfort you come back to on the hard days.

3. Writing Is Still Hard But Worth It
Spoiler alert: You don’t magically “arrive.” Writing as an adult still feels hard sometimes. There are days you’ll doubt your talent, feel stuck, get jealous of someone else’s book deal. But the satisfaction of weaving a story is still present. The joy of a sentence that feels perfect or a character who surprises you? Still as sweet. You didn’t grow out of it. You grew with it.

4. Fanfiction Is Valid.
Fanfic taught you how to write dialogue, how to build tension, how to stick with and finish things. You learned pacing from serialized chapters, developed character arcs by borrowing from established ones, and stayed consistent because people in the comments said “update soon!” That’s gold.

So yes. Write the cringy Avatar the Last Airbender fanfic. Make it 100K words if you want. You’re learning how to tell stories.

5. Keep the Dream but Let It Change
You still dream of writing full time. And that dream is still alive, still beautiful and even still something worth chasing. But your life isn’t on pause just because it hasn’t happened yet. Every piece you write now—every blog post, poem, unfinished story is part of a rich, creative life. You’re doing it already, me. You’re already a writer.

So to my 15-year-old fanfiction self:
You didn’t waste your time.
You weren’t silly (ok maybe a little but it’s ok and acceptable).

Keep going. And yes. Your OC definitely was the Avatar and was so totally unique. She saved the world too. The readers voted (me). It’s canon now.

How to Mourn that Story you never Finished

~ Brooke F. ~ 2 Comments

Some stories don’t make it. I’m sure you’re already WELL aware of that if you’re a writer.
Not because they weren’t good, or because you didn’t care enough, but because something shifted. You outgrew it. Life got busy. The plot unraveled. Or maybe the fire that lit it up when you first started just… dimmed. It doesn’t interest you anymore.

And now it sits in your drafts folder, collecting dust or …uh… pixels.

If that’s where you’re at: I see you.

So here’s a little post I’ve been wanting to write for awhile on mourning the death of your story and what you can learn from the whole thing. Very similar to my post on knowing when to quit on a story, this post will focus on the after and the questions you can critically ask so you can grow and learn. Otherwise, the experience can be discouraging and it feels like you just dumped your time into a project that never showed tangible results. So let’s try and avoid that. 🙂

Read It With Curiosity, Not Criticism

When you’re ready, go back and reread the draft. Not to fix it, but to understand it.

Ask yourself some qestions such as:

  • What parts still make you feel something?
  • What parts confused you or dragged?
  • Where were you trying too hard to be someone you’re not as a writer?

Remember: you wrote that version of the story with the skills and heart you had then. That’s a snapshot of a creative moment in time. It deserves to live on. Please, please, please don’t delete no matter how cringe and blackmail worthy this piece might be.

Look for the Seeds You Can Replant Elsewhere

Even if the story didn’t grow into what you imagined, that doesn’t mean it was wasted. Often, buried in “dead” drafts are pieces worth saving:

  • A compelling side character
  • A setting that still sparkles in your mind
  • A line of dialogue that makes you sit up and whisper, “That’s it.”

You might not resurrect the whole story but you can borrow from its bones. Let it compost into something new.

Track Your Creative Patterns

Unfinished stories are often full of clues about yourself. It holds your interests, your hang-ups, and what you feel is important.

Try this:

  • Make a list of your abandoned stories.
  • Jot down what each one was trying to explore (themes, feelings, questions).
  • See what repeats.

You might realize you always write about lonely girls and overgrown gardens. Or that your stories die when the middle turns into a slog. That kind of self-awareness? Invaluable. Plus you can use it to inform your creative decisions moving forward. Try and place what you wanted from this draft.

Final Thought:

It’s okay if the ending never got written. And who knows? One day you might go back. Maybe not to fix it, but to pick up where you left off. Or not. Either way, the story gave you something.

What Time of Day Should I Write?

~ Brooke F. ~ Leave a comment

Finding My Writing Rhythm: What Time of Day Works Best?

I’ve spent a lot of time (maybe too much!) figuring out the best time of day for me to write. It turns out, it’s a bit of a Goldilocks situation: not too early, not too late, but just right…

Let me explain.

Mornings? Not for me.
I admire the people who can spring out of bed, brew a strong cup of coffee, and dive straight into creative flow. But I am not one of those people. Before 7am, my brain feels like it’s running on fumes. I can barely make sense of my to-do list, let alone string together creative sentences. Morning writing is a no-go. I must wait until I am coherent.

Afternoons are appealing… but tricky.
There’s something lovely about the afternoon: the day has settled in, you’re warmed up mentally, and it feels like a natural pause point. But if you work a regular job, afternoon writing is basically impossible. Unless you’re on a break or you have an unusual schedule, it’s hard to carve out that time consistently. Afternoons are awesome but ENTIRELY unrealistic.

Nights are magical… but a slippery slope for sure.
I will say, writing at night has a certain charm. There’s this quiet energy in the evening hours, when the world slows down and distractions fade. But wow, does time fly. I’ve sat down to write at 9pm, blinked, and suddenly it’s midnight. If I’m not careful, I end up sacrificing sleep in the name of creativity (not ideal for someone who needs to be functional the next day and rather early I might add).

So what works best? Right after work.
For me, the sweet spot is around 6pm. I like spending the day letting ideas simmer in the back of my mind while I’m doing other things like going about my job or doing chores. Then, when I get home, I’m ready to go. It’s like my brain has been preheating all day, and by the time I sit down to write, everything’s at the right temperature. I still have enough energy, but the workday is done and I can shift into my creative zone.

Of course, everyone’s rhythm is different. Some people thrive in the early hours, others love the late-night quiet. The trick is to experiment and pay attention to when you feel most creative and not just when you think you should be writing. For me, writing after work feels natural and sustainable, especially with a full-time job. Maybe it will for you, too.

What’s your favorite time of day to write? I’d love to hear!

Spring Reset for Writers: Refreshing My Writing Routine 🌷✍️

~ Brooke F. ~ 2 Comments

Ah, spring. The season of blossoming flowers, fresh starts, and freshly ignored writing goals. Oops. Did I say that outloud?

Anyways, I am determined to refresh my writing routine this spring as well as declutter my workspace, and become the productive, flourishing writer I was always meant to be. Or at least… try.

Step One: The Desk Purge

Right now, my desk is less of a workspace and more of an archaeological dig of sorts. There are at least three half-filled notebooks, a graveyard of pens (some working, some with ink mysteriously dried up overnight), and a coffee cup that may or may not be from last week. If I dig deep enough, I might find a long-lost plot outline or a note that simply says, “fix this, it’s bad.” Oh, and stickers. Lots and lots of stickers.

This happens periodically. My desk space over any given amount of time will become…how is it we say here in the south? Ah, yes, a HOT MESS.

So, I’m decluttering. The goal is to turn my desk into a space that actually invites creativity instead of making me want to lie down and take a nap. A candle? Yes. A cute notebook that I will definitely use? Absolutely. The ten random receipts and a variety of rogue paperclips? No thanks. You’re out of here (until I somehow collect another collection and do another deep clean this next fall).

Step Two: Reworking the Writing Routine

Right now, my “routine” consists of staring at my laptop at odd times (basically when the whimsy hits), opening a blank document, and then somehow ending up scrolling on my phone for 45 minutes. It’s an art form, really. And while I have been trying to tackle my phone addiction lately (it’s its own issue separately, ok?) my writing routine still lacks consistency.

To fix this, I’m trying out a more structured approach this spring. Instead of telling myself “I’ll write later” (which is a fancy way of saying “I won’t write at all”), I’m setting dedicated writing times. Mostly in the evening after work or after dinner. I have experimented with a few time slots (will be writing a blog post about this later, I’m all about experiments over here), and the evening time slot seems to work best with my lifestyle and schedule. So that’s what we’re going with.

Step Three: Setting Writing Goals That Aren’t Overly Ambitious

I alluded to this already in my New Years post in January. I love making big, dramatic writing goals. “I’ll finish my novel in two weeks.” “I’ll write 1,000 words every single day without fail.” “I’ll win a Pulitzer by June.”

And then reality hits. Life is busy. Some days, writing just doesn’t happen. So I’m continuing to focus on, goals that are actually achievable. Maybe it’s writing for 20 minutes a day. Maybe it’s finishing a single chapter this month. Small, consistent progress is better than unrealistic goals that just make me feel guilty when I inevitably don’t hit them. Right now I’m attempting to finish my Poetry book by the end of summer. That’s THE goal right now.

Step Four: Romanticizing the Writing Process

If there’s one thing I know, it’s that writing is way more fun when you make it an aesthetic experience. I’m talking fairy lights, soft music, a warm cup of tea, and the illusion that I am a 19th-century author composing a masterpiece in my candlelit study. Does this actually help me write better? Debatable. Does it make me want to write more? Absolutely.

So, part of my spring reset is making my writing time feel special. A cozy spot by the window, a new playlist, maybe even a fancy new pen. Whatever it takes to trick my brain into thinking this is a magical, must-do activity. If everything feels stale in your writing process right now, just try and make a few fun little changes.

Final Thoughts: Let’s Make This Our Season of Writing Wins

Spring is a time for growth, so I’m going to try and grow into better writing habits. Whether it’s finally decluttering that desk, setting realistic goals, or simply making writing feel more fun, this is my effort to reset and refresh.

How are you resetting this spring? Do you even believe in spring resets or is time simply an illusion to you? Let’s talk about it in the comments! 🌸✨

AI for Writers: How to Use it Ethically

~ Brooke F. ~ Leave a comment

In a world teeming with AI-generated essays, AI-written novels, and even AI poetry (which, let’s be honest, reads like it was composed by a very earnest but deeply uninspired toaster), creatives everywhere are understandably wary. The existential crisis among writers is real.

I, too, have had my moments of wild optimism. AI seemed like such a useful tool! An endless supply of writing prompts? An easy way to get revision advice? Blog post title suggestions so I don’t have to stare at a blank screen in despair? Sign me up!

Oh, how naive I was.

I didn’t fully comprehend the sheer scope of AI misuse. AI-written books clogging up Amazon? Students submitting entire AI-generated essays as their own? As I watched the chaos unfold, I started to wonder: is there a way to use AI ethically as a writer? Or am I a hopeless fraud for even considering it?

After much reflection, I’ve come to this conclusion: AI and computers exist to do the boring stuff. The soul-sucking, time-wasting tasks that drain the joy from creativity. But the actual creating? That’s the part I want to hold onto. Because honestly, why would I want to shortcut the best part of writing? AI writing is often as bland as a bowl of plain oatmeal. No sugar. No nuts.

AI feels less like a foe or friend and more like a really boring intern/writing assistant in my humble opinion.

So, in the interest of making peace with AI (and ensuring it remains a helpful assistant rather than an artistic overlord), I’ve compiled a list of ways writers can use AI ethically and usefully without sacrificing their creative souls.

1. Character Development

Stuck on how your main character would react in a specific scenario? Describe them to AI and ask how they might logically respond. Or, better yet, throw them into a random situation and see what AI suggests and then tweak it until it actually feels like your character. Develop it. Run with it. Think of it as a digital version of those acting exercises where you “become” your character so to speak.

2. Synonyms: Because “Thingamajig” is too vague I guess

We’ve all been there: that word is right there on the tip of your tongue, but your brain has checked out for the day. AI can help you find the perfect synonym without forcing you into a three-hour thesaurus rabbit hole (which somehow always ends with you reading about the etymology of “spork”).

3. World-Building Without the Headache

Need to develop a magic system? A fictional government? A convincing but totally made-up economy? AI won’t write it for you, but it will ask you logical, specific questions that help flesh out your world. Think of it as a world-building coach, but not a ghostwriter.

4. Writing Exercises: When Your Muse is on Vacation

AI is great for generating writing prompts and exercises when you need a little jumpstart. You can take what it gives you and twist it into something uniquely yours. Don’t use it to write the whole thing. Use it to springboard you into your own little writing project.

5. Helping You Tackle That One Problem Paragraph

Ever stare at a paragraph, knowing it’s bad but not quite sure why? AI can help you pinpoint what’s off. Whether it’s tense shifts, awkward phrasing, overuse of adverbs (my personal Achille’s heel). It’s something akin to a second pair of eyes giving your work a quick glance, minus the existential dread of asking another human for feedback. (Though, personally, a real human is needed to fully help you realize the full potential of your work but maybe I’m just stuck in the stone age.)

6. Titling: The Worst Part of Writing (Fight Me)

I am a “working title” kind of person. If left to my own devices, all my drafts would be titled “Ugh, I’ll Fix This Later.” AI helps me generate blog post and chapter title ideas so I can get back to the fun part—actually writing the thing.

Final Thoughts

AI isn’t evil, but it also isn’t a replacement for creativity. It’s a tool. It’s a tool that, when used wisely, can make writing easier without making it soulless. Let’s not let it take over. After all, writing is about creating, not just generating words.

Embracing the Cringe: Why Creating Is Worth the Risk

~ Brooke F. ~ 2 Comments

Why do I care what some strangers think???

I’ve been there, friends. Far too many times in fact. Staring at a piece of writing I’ve poured my heart into, hovering over the “Post” button, my stomach twisting. The thought runs rampant: What if people think this is weird? What if I’m awkward? What if this is…cringe?

Social media has given us a strange gift: the ability to share our creativity with a potentially massive audience. But alongside that gift comes the shadow of The Fear. The fear of being judged, of being misunderstood, or, quite possibly, being dismissed as “cringe.”

“Cringe” is potentially the ultimate insult in internet culture (at least as I see it as a creative). It implies that you’re trying too hard, caring too much, or daring to be earnest in a world that values ironic detachment. And when you create something as personal as a poem, a story, or a piece of art, putting it out there can feel like standing naked in a spotlight. There you are, lain bare. You want to be seen, but what if the crowd points and laughs?

I know this fear well because it’s held me back from sharing my own poetry. I love writing. It’s how I process life’s more difficult moments, capture fleeting emotions, and just overall express myself. But when it comes to posting a poem online, I freeze up. What if they think I’m pretentious? What if someone mocks me for using certain metaphors or for feeling something too deeply?

Here’s what I’ve realized, though: creating art isn’t about avoiding cringe. It is about embracing it.

Much of great art has, at some point, been considered cringe-worthy or at least wasn’t super appreciated in its time. Van Gogh’s bold, swirling strokes? Art of a talentless, crazy hack. The Beatles’ early love songs? Cheesy and dare I say, corny? Writing poetry and sharing it with the world takes guts because it’s vulnerable. It’s deeply personal. But that’s what makes it real.

If you spend your life avoiding the risk of being cringe, you also avoid the chance to connect with people. Because here’s the thing: for every person who might snicker at your poem or scroll past it, there’s another person out there who will feel seen. Your words and art could be exactly what they needed in that moment.

And, let’s be real, the alternative is even cringier. It’s cringy to hold back your creativity, to stifle your voice, to live in fear of what a bunch of strangers online might think. It’s cringy to not make something, to let fear make you boring and scared and silent.

So here’s my advice (to you and to me): Post the poem. Share the art. Write the awkward, heartfelt, overly-metaphorical thing and let it out into the world. Someone will cringe, sure. But someone else will care. And in the end, the world needs more people who dare to care.