KKirk

@Krista, thank you very much for your thoughtful comments about AI-generated writing. As I piloted through this short story, I simply chose the next plot points from a list of 3 possibilities provided by the bot. After 5 dull, boring, formulaic chapters, I told it to finish the story and gave it three points to include. The result was not a superb chapter, but it was less boring, less formulaic, and more interesting. As the conclusion and wrap-up of the story, it actually made me emotional as I read it. As an author who takes a lot of pride in my work, I don't think I would ever use AI in my writing process. I never run into writer's block (which might be a reason to try AI) and I would never want to relinquish my own control of the story and the thrill of creating something. Thanks again for participating in this experiment! Cheers! Ken

Thank you for sharing your personal connection, @Doha! I was inspired to write this "Based on reality" story to make the point that sometimes a stranger comes through our lives just long enough to gift us with something beautiful such as Art's healing from a bad breakup and your difficult coming out process. It means a lot to me that my story reminded you of your own beautiful story!

Looking forward to seeing your story, @Carl Accolla!

Hello, @dboggs9700! I think I am 2-3 weeks away from completing Another Role of a Lifetime. I'll start posting it as soon as it's complete. It will be about 45 chapters, so it will take a while to get completely posted. Thanks for being a fan!! And thanks for seeing this experiment to the end! Ken

The morning fog of San Francisco rolled lazily past the floor-to-ceiling windows of the grand mansion atop Nob Hill, veiling the bustling harbor below in a soft, silver shroud. Inside the wood-paneled library, a fire crackled merrily in a hearth carved from imported Italian marble, casting a warm, amber glow over Persian rugs and shelves lined with leather-bound books. Sitting in a plush velvet armchair, Jack Callahan looked down at his hands. They were spotted with age now, the knuckles sw

@dboggs9700, I think the lack of dialogue and the somewhat distant 3rd-person perspective make the whole story rather lifeless, almost clinical, although I'm not sure a good scientist would describe a sky the color of a bruised plum. Incidentally, I'm not a plum expert, but given the natural color of a plum, how can you differentiate if it's bruised? Does anyone know?

The final morning of the roundup arrived under a sky the color of a bruised plum. Jack was at the branding fire, his face blackened by soot, when he felt a heavy, unwanted presence behind him. It was Vance "Rawhide" Miller—no relation to their old trail boss, just a drifter from a neighboring outfit who had a reputation for sticking his nose where it didn't belong. Rawhide was leaning against a corral post, whittling a piece of pine with a wicked-looking bowie knife, his small, shifty eyes

I hear you, @dboggs9700. It reads more like a synopsis than an actual story. I hope you will stick with it because it ends with 6 chapters and the last one is a bit different. I'm curious what you will think of it. Thanks for your comments so far!

By July, the Wyoming heat had baked the mud of the spring thaw into hard, cracked earth. The valley was alive with the roar of the annual summer roundup. For the first time since buying their spread, Jack and Silas couldn't just isolate themselves. The open-range laws meant they had to join forces with three neighboring outfits to sort, brand, and count the cattle that had mingled over the winter. For two weeks, their quiet cabin was abandoned for a dusty, chaotic line camp ten miles down t

The spring thaw arrived in Wyoming with the force of a breaking dam. By April, the thick blankets of snow that had isolated Jack and Silas all winter began to melt, turning the valley floor into a rushing patchwork of green grass and roaring streams. The mountain air smelled of wet earth and pine needles. With the warmth came a new kind of labor. Their small herd of cattle, weak from the lean winter months, was beginning to calve. Jack and Silas spent dawn till dusk in the saddle, tracking

Just a note to say I am thoroughly enjoying all the comments you wonderful (and intelligent!) readers are posting. Thank you all so much. There are a total of 6 chapters (I got bored and ended it), so keep checking to see how the story evolves. I do not claim to be the author of this drivel -- I wouldn't publish it in this condition, for sure. I'm more like a producer (as in movies) maybe? Anyhow, as I said in the Prologue, it's simply an experiment. But it is rather fun, I think. Gotta go work on a sex scene for Another Role of a Lifetime. 😋

The road to Wyoming was long, arduous, and thick with the dust of a thousand miles, but for Jack and Silas, the frontier had transformed from a lonely expanse into a shared kingdom. After collecting their hard-earned pay at the railhead in Abilene, they said their goodbyes to Miller and the rest of the trail crew. Under the cover of a crowded saloon and a cloud of cigar smoke, they slipped away unnoticed. They packed their gear, bought two sturdy pack mules, and pointed their horses north t

I agree @dboggs9700. I found this an interesting little time-filler, but I am concerned about the wider implications.

For weeks I have been diligently working on my own story in the old-fashioned way, writing, editing, re-writing, etc. One afternoon I had completed a chapter of my own story and didn't feel inspired to go on. But I had some time allocated to writing. So, I decided to try to answer my own question about how well AI can write porn. What you will read in this short series is the exact results produced from a series of prompts I used with my generic Google AI generator program. I think it is ca

The midday heat of the Texas panhandle pressed down like a hot blacksmith’s iron. A cloud of red dust, kicked up by three thousand head of longhorn cattle, hung thick in the air, coating everything in a gritty, sweat-stained film. Jack Callahan rode drag at the rear of the herd, a bandana pulled tight over his nose and mouth. His eyes, sharp and a striking shade of flint gray, tracked the movement of the stubborn steers through the haze. Jack was twenty-eight, built lean and hard from a dec