During the Covid pandemic, a friend of mine - Paul DeVos challenged me to write a screenplay for an action film - Netflix was short of content apparently. I failed that challenge because I realised I wanted to be writer and director at the same time and the screenplay format didn’t allow me to embellish the locations and the inner monologues of the characters in the way I wanted. So, armed with the knowledge that I gained from Richard Osman on ‘The Rest is Entertainment’ podcast, that a novel is about ninety thousand words, I set about trying to finish a book in 3 months. It took a bit longer than that.
Perhaps the most interesting thing about the process was a reminder that you don’t have to do the same thing always and forever. That’s not to say that there isn’t something to be gained by specialising and becoming an expert, but lived experience is transferrable, and it’s something that AI doesn’t have - yet.
As an experiment, I did use a couple of AI products to to help the writing process. AI is a great editor, but can also act as a reader. In a kind of ‘Lateral Thinking’ way, if you give AI random words and ask it to imagine three climatic endings to a chapter, it can be very useful to generate ideas.
I asked one of the AI models for three options of describing the writing process using the words ‘Spring Roll’ and ‘Hammer’. Which do you like best and why?
Option 1:
Writing a novel is like crafting a spring roll—delicate layers of plot, character, and theme wrapped tightly together to create a satisfying whole. The writer must wield their pen like a hammer, striking out unneeded details and forging a story that is both crisp and flavorful, leaving the reader hungry for more.
Option 2:
Imagine writing a novel as assembling a spring roll, each ingredient representing a key element: vibrant dialogue, fresh ideas, and a tangy twist of conflict. But to hold it all together, you need the precision of a hammer, nailing down the structure so the story doesn’t fall apart with one bite.
Option 3:
Constructing a novel is less about finesse and more about a peculiar mix of delicacy and force—like trying to use a hammer to make a spring roll. The chaos of creativity meets the discipline of editing, and somehow, out of that odd combination, a cohesive and flavorful story emerges.
But luckily for novel writers everywhere, AI it’s not very good at localisation, especially for a book set in and around Melbourne and the Mornington Peninsula.
Discarding Decency
He’s a disgraced whistleblower, hiding out in a van in a surfside carpark. A nobody, wanted by faceless enemies, unwanted by everyone else—except her. She’s a tourist, just another outsider, a bit too good to be true.
Drawn to Monaghan, a sprawling estate with a scandalous past, they uncover a conspiracy that binds them closer but makes them targets.
In 2024 when morality is a luxury and deep fakes, doxing, and revenge porn are just the beginning, the powerful will stop at nothing to protect their secrets.
The game is rigged, the stakes are high, and the odds are stacked against them. As the cards are dealt and the bets are made, he wants to fold. But she’s all in. What do they have to lose? Everything.
Set in Melbourne and the Mornington Peninsula, against the backdrop of the culture wars—where polarizing issues turn neighbors into enemies and outrage fuels an industry—this is a story about power, privilege, and the human cost of prejudice.