Artificial Intelligence Opened the Door

I have not been shy to admit that artificial intelligence was what first opened the door for me as a writer. It gave me the confidence to begin and the structure to keep going. From the very start, it’s been woven into my creative process, not just as a tool, but as a partner, helping me shape scattered ideas into stories with form and direction. But no matter how powerful it is, AI has never replaced the part that matters most. It doesn’t tell me what to care about. It doesn’t choose the stories I feel drawn to or the way I want to tell them. That still comes from inside me, from how I see the world and what I want to share.

AI can help tell a story, but it doesn’t decide which story to tell. It offers prompts, outlines, and sometimes snippets of dialogue, but I’m the one who chooses what feels true. The heart of the story is always personal. Whether I’m writing something light and fun or serious and thoughtful, the meaning has to come from me. No software can provide the feeling that tells me when a sentence lands just right or when a moment has the emotional weight it needs. That instinct belongs to me.

Some people worry that using AI takes away from the art of writing. I don’t see it that way. For me, it’s like using any other tool, a good pen, a helpful thesaurus, or a strong word processor. AI doesn’t take over. It supports. It helps me move quickly when I’m on a roll and slow down when something needs more care. It offers clarity without demanding control. I don’t feel like less of a writer because I use AI. If anything, I feel more capable of writing the kinds of stories I’ve always wanted to tell.

Writing has never been about the tools we use. It’s about having something to say. AI can help me shape a thought or clean up phrasing, even point out a new angle, but it can’t tell me what matters. That’s my job. I’m the one who decides what sounds honest, what tone feels right, and how the rhythm of a piece should flow. That’s what gives the story its voice, and that voice has to be mine.

I wouldn’t want to write without AI. It’s become part of how I think and how I get the words to move. But even as it helps, I know it’s not the one telling the story. I still have to feel it. I still have to shape it. The tools I use are powerful, but they don’t dream, they don’t care, and they don’t understand meaning. That part, the human part, is still mine.

Writing, for me, is something deeply human, made stronger with the right kind of help. I don’t separate myself from the tools I use. I embrace them. They make the process smoother, faster, and sometimes even more fun, but they don’t write the book. The spark still starts in my own heart. The choices still come from my own hand. What to keep, what to fix, what to toss out entirely, that’s not a decision an algorithm makes. That belongs to me.

I can still create stories that fall flat. AI doesn’t change that. If a piece lacks structure or feels off, it’s because of my decisions, not the tool. One of the hardest lessons I’ve learned is that stringing together a series of events isn’t enough to make a story work. Even if each scene is well written, if they don’t build toward something meaningful, the whole thing can feel disjointed or aimless. A good story needs momentum, shape, and intention.

That’s something I had to figure out through trial and error. AI might help me generate scenes faster, but it doesn’t tell me how they should connect. That’s my responsibility. I have to step back, look at the whole, and ask whether the story grows, whether it carries the reader forward with purpose. That kind of awareness takes time to develop. It takes planning, revision, and a willingness to throw things out when they’re not working. Learning to use AI in a way that supports that process rather than gets in the way has been a huge part of my journey.

When I write mysteries, for example, I lean on AI for all kinds of tasks. It helps polish sentences, fine-tune pacing, and suggest structure. But the most important parts still need human eyes. AI isn’t great at managing the small, vital details that make a mystery satisfying. Clues have to appear at just the right time. Red herrings need to mislead without annoying. Character choices must stay believable, and timelines can’t fall apart. That’s not just data. It’s emotional timing. It’s understanding what a reader is hoping for in that moment and how to surprise them without breaking the story. That’s where I come in, adjusting and refining, making sure everything ties together in a way that feels right.

Children’s books are a different kind of challenge, and AI has opened up new possibilities. The AI art tools I use have completely changed how I handle illustrations. What used to take months can now be done in a few days. But it’s not automatic. Every image begins with a prompt, which must be carefully crafted. I guide the look and feel, check for consistency, and decide what belongs in each scene based on the text. AI generates the art, but I’m the one sorting through it and choosing what fits. It’s still work, and sometimes frustrating work, but the time saved is unbelievable.

Back when we were producing new games at EnsenaSoft, where I continue as CEO, I managed a full-time art team. At one point, we had seven in-house artists. I know what it means to build a visual pipeline, to review drafts, give feedback, and make sure everything stays consistent across a project. That experience helps me see just how much AI has changed the process. It absolutely can replace an artist, at least in the kinds of projects I work on now. That is not a claim, it is my lived reality. Where I once needed a full team, I can now handle the visual work myself. It is not about clicking a button and calling it done. I still have to guide the vision, write thoughtful prompts, and sort through the results to find what works. But I am no longer waiting on sketches or managing revisions. I am directing the creative process from start to finish, faster and more independently than ever before.

The picture books I create often need at least 25 full-color illustrations. For a human artist, especially one working in a detailed or stylized way, that could take four to six months. With AI, I can generate hundreds of image options in just a day or two. I sometimes go through at least five or six versions before finding one that feels right for a single page. But when I do, I get something beautiful that brings the story to life. It’s not about clicking a button and moving on. It’s about curating, refining, and guiding a process that still takes vision and care.

What surprises me most is how collaborative it feels, even when I’m the only person in the room. The images may be generated by a tool, but they’re still shaped by my decisions. I choose the colors, the characters’ expressions, the settings, and the clothing. I write and rewrite the prompts until they give me something that matches what I see in my head. I compare variations, review results with care, and make sure the visual style holds together across the whole book. In a very real sense, I’m still working with an artist. The difference is that I don’t have to wait. I can move at the pace of my own imagination.

In both mystery writing and picture book creation, AI hasn’t replaced creativity. It has changed how I interact with it. The time I save on the execution side gives me room to explore. I can try new ideas, make bigger changes, and take more risks. I can shift directions without feeling like I’ve lost weeks of effort. However, this does not mean the ideas come from outside. They still begin with me. AI just helps me reach them faster and bring them into form.

I’ve managed big teams before. At one point, I was responsible for fifty people. There were plenty of rewards in that, but I don’t have the interest or the energy for that kind of structure anymore. These days, I work with a very different kind of team, just AI and me. AI never takes a vacation. It doesn’t get tired. It doesn’t need meetings or approval cycles. It’s not perfect, but it helps me stay in a creative flow without the weight of constant oversight. I’m still the one guiding the vision. I still make the decisions. I just get to do it with a kind of quiet focus that suits the life I want now.

Writing stories and making books has become the work I want to do every day. There’s nothing else I’d rather be doing. AI helped make it possible. It’s allowed me to go farther than I could have on my own, not just because it writes for me, but because it gives me the freedom to focus on what really matters. The story still needs meaning. The message still needs thought. And the voice that carries it all has to be my own.