Artificial intelligence makes phenomenal progress in writing, to the point that novels written by robots invade the web. Do writers still have a future? asks the author.
Today, writing without algorithms is a form of courage.
In a few days, our history will have a cover, an ISBN code and a hope of survival in bookstores. You understood that I co -wrote a novel. The kind of story that we compose with her soul, her friend author (Véronique Beaulieu) and a good dose of natural stupidity.
I am not fooled, the criticisms will chop any menu, menu. And despite everything, now the frenzy takes me back. The call of the second novel sounds stronger than an old church bell. But I hesitate. Do I still have the right to write, arched in my Adirondack chair, without algorithmic assistance, while a vaguely motivated type can generate a trilogy in a weekend while playing to play Minecraft ?
Because between us, AI has entered the world of publishing like a polished tornado: discreet at first, but more and more noisy. Sudowrite, Jasper, Textcortex… These names sound like marks of protein smoothies, but they are stories machines. They generate text at the distortion speed V of a Klingon vessel, without stopping to wipe the sweat of the forehead all around the head they do not have.
The self -publishing is in full swing. The production speed is so large that Amazon even imposed a ceiling on the authors. Potes are now limited to only Three publications per day. Per day! It’s no longer talent, it’s narrative traffic jam.
While a Marie Laberge – one of the pillars of Quebec literary quality – offers us a work every one to three years, a geek can, theoretically, produce it up to 3285 during the same period. It is well known, the real geeks never take leave. Certainly, they do not play in the same league. But let’s be lucid. AI is still young; What she writes badly today, she will learn to do it well tomorrow.
Worse, it’s not just a question of writing rate. A study by Microsoft explains that AI would seriously threaten around forty trades in the coming years. I give it to you in a thousand, that of author-editor arrives in fifth position 1.
And during this time, Quebec readership is progressing. More and more faithful to its local authors. Publishing houses often crumble under more than a thousand manuscripts to dissect each year. From this literary ocean, they only retain only three new authors.
And yet the desire to write climbs. It is teeming with projects, dreams, brilliant ideas. Except that many do not dare. Others begin, then abandon the case, discouraged by the writing marathon. The AI will certainly change the situation.
Soon, the effort will be much less, even practically non -existent. A few clicks, a few words, and here is a hot novel. It’s practical.
The publishers, for their part, prepare to drink the cup! The writing valves are now wide open. It is obvious that they will soon or later have to use AI to filter the manuscripts. And there, I shudder! Will it be able to recognize the sincerity of a human text in the middle of the prose of a computer fellow? Today, this is possible. Tomorrow will it be so much?
Take Éric Chacour, for example. He will have taken about 15 years to write his first novel, What I know about you. A magnificent work, applauded all over the world, including by me. But if his manuscript had arrived in 2028, in the heart of a tidal wave of texts generated and sorted by robots, would it have been identified? A doubt remains.
Photo François Roy, Archives La Presse
Quebec writer Éric Chacour
Don’t make me say what I didn’t say. AI is far from useless for writing. It can ethically inspire, organize, search, help connect points. It is a certainly great tool. But it does not sweat, even if it generates a lot of heat.
So, my big question remains: how to enhance those who write with this spark of envy and doubt despite the opposite winds of progress?
It is not a fight between the human and the machine. It is a reflection on what we want to celebrate: speed or truth, flash or fault. And you, dear readers, what do you look at?
Presented like this, the answer seems easy. The implementation will be devilishly more laborious and it will have an impact on a whole section of our culture.
My heart cry is simply a call to protect human writing and promote serene cohabitation. The simple answer would be a small seal of authenticity on our pages stained with coffee and emotions. After all, Amazon already limits the authors to three publications per day. We cap the tempo. But who will take the time to reward patience? And above all, how to prove it?
While waiting for a solution to emerge, I return to my Adirondack chair, with a desire to sweat a good word.
1. Read an article on Microsoft’s conclusions, by RTBF
Read the opinion text of the writer Claude Vaillancourt “A perfect sonnet writes in seconds”
What do you think? Take part in the dialogue
