I have historically have had a really forgiving view of AI. I think it’s here to stay and that much is true, but as time has gone on, I have gravitated to a more critical view of AI content, specifically AI writing. I think it’s great for brainstorming when you’re on square 1 or perhaps outlining a blogpost (here is where I reveal that it is not uncommon for me to ask chatgpt for help with organizing blog posts, titling, and other such small tasks that allow me to focus on my blog post’s actual content). Heck, I think it’s maybe even good for writing filler text that allows you to move your story forward until you can return and fill it with something better and far more creative. But over the past year, I’ve really seen the quality of writing content being replaced with quantity and this is no doubt due to the rise of AI.

AI garbage books flood KDP and many so-called-writers are making tutorials on how you can shortcut the process of creating a story and avoid *gasp* writing! I think someday I’ll make a post on this in the future about how these pretend writers must not really enjoy the craft if they’re continuing to engineer ways to NOT write but now is not that time. Today, I’m here to talk about a specific AI writing platform known as LEX.

Lex AI Writing Platform: A Powerful Tool with a Hidden Catch

Lex is one of the most intriguing AI writing tools I’ve explored. With a wide array of functions, it offers a startlingly diverse set of tools. I could see Lex catering to writers across various disciplines due to this diversity, whether you’re drafting blog posts, brainstorming story ideas, or simply fighting off writer’s block. However, as with any tool of this caliber, its strengths come with a critical caveat. But we’ll get there shortly. First, an introduction to Lex’s toolbox is in order.

A Brief Overview of Lex’s Tools

One of the few positives I will say is Lex impresses with its thoughtful organization and user-friendly interface. The platform boasts features designed to streamline the writing process. Maybe a little too streamlined, but again, I’m getting ahead of myself. The tools and functions are as follows:

• Idea Generation: It helps writers overcome blank-page syndrome with prompts and suggestions.
• Continuity Tools: Lex can pick up where you left off, offering full paragraphs based on the context you provide it.
• Editing Suggestions: It attempts to analyze tone, grammar, and structure to help refine your writing.
• Customization: You can tweak Lex’s settings to better fit your style or project goals. Probably the most impressive and useful tool in my opinion.

For writers seeking an all-in-one productivity aid, Lex delivers. It’s particularly helpful for outlining or fleshing out ideas quickly. I could see Lex being a useful tool in brainstorming or drafting stages when used wisely. However, we’re going to move on to my main concern with Lex and most Ai writing assistants as a whole.

RIP Individuality

While Lex offers remarkable utility, my primary concern lies in what tools like this mean for the art of writing itself being the erosion of individual style.

When used sparingly, Lex is a fantastic collaborator. Keyword being “sparingly”. How many people will use it sparingly? The temptation to rely on AI for large swaths of text is undeniable, but in doing so, we risk losing the unique voices that define good writing.

To illustrate this concern, I experimented with Lex by beginning a short story:

My opening line:
“Deep in the recesses of an experimental laboratory, rows of cages can be found.”

Lex’s continuation:
“Within these cages, a colony of felines reside. These are no ordinary cats, however. They are the subjects of a groundbreaking experiment, where scientists seek to unravel the mysteries of genetic manipulation. With each passing day, the cats undergo a series of tests and procedures, their DNA meticulously analyzed and altered. The researchers are driven by a singular goal: to create a new breed of cat, one that possesses enhanced abilities and traits beyond the scope of their natural counterparts.”

On the surface, this continuation isn’t bad—it’s clear, grammatically sound, and flows logically. However, it’s unmistakably AI-generated. The tendency to “tell rather than show” is glaring. Instead of inviting readers into the story through evocative imagery or nuance, Lex provides a clinical summary, flattening the narrative.

This paragraph reads more like a report than an actual story, and, while serviceable, it lacks the depth and personality of human storytelling. Such patterns, if adopted uncritically, could homogenize creative writing, sacrificing artistry for efficiency. I have yet to see any AI writer tackle this concern successfully. Everything a computer spits out tends to sound the same or very similar to each other: bland, uncreative, and report-y. AI tends to be trained on articles and educational resources after all so no surprise there.

Conclusion

Lex is a powerful tool that can be a game-changer for writers, offering diverse features and has a great organization and presentation of said tools. For brainstorming, outlining, and rough drafting, perhaps it’s worth a try. But the ability to write large sections of text quickly can also be its biggest drawback and churn up a lot of concern.

Overall, I think as we incorporate AI into the writing process, we must remain vigilant and oh-so-cautious. Writing is more than putting words on a page despite what school might have taught us. It’s about crafting a voice, an atmosphere, and an experience for readers. Tools like Lex should be wielded with care, enhancing human creativity rather than replacing it. For now, Lex is an impressive companion but ABSOLUTELY not a replacement for the writer’s pen.

Thanks for taking the time read and take care, friends!