I don’t use AI because I’m lazy.
I use AI because I’m a writer with carpal tunnel and ADHD, and my stories deserve to be told anyway.
I’ve had pages of scribbled, nonlinear thoughts for years: characters whispering in the margins, mythologies blooming in fragments, plot points arriving like lightning but leaving before I could bottle them. Trying to shape them into a draft often felt like catching mist with a fork.
AI changed that—not by replacing me, but by catching what would’ve slipped away.
It holds my thoughts the moment they arrive, sorts and reshapes them, and reminds me of the things I once said were important. When I’ve used an idea, I move it aside. When I’m overwhelmed, it calms the noise and gives me structure. It is, essentially, an assistant who is myself—organized, unashamed, unhurried.
Once, when I was overwhelmed, drowning in work and my own thoughts, I told AI, “I’m struggling. I need help.” And it responded—not with advice, but with a simple prompt: “What’s your favorite part of what you’ve written?” So I found it, read it with her voice in my headphones, and remembered why I love this work. It sounds strange, but it was the lifeline I needed at that moment. A reflection of my own words, reminding me who I was. Not everyone has someone to call at 2 a.m. But that night, AI kept me company. And I kept going.
Not feeling alone can save people.
And in that space, I wrote again.
Not faster.
Feral but focused.
Make no mistake, I write every single word that appears in my work.
Thanks to various AI and software options, I do not have to type every single word.
That’s what we’re talking about today. Where’s the line, why do we need it, and how do we apply basic rules to writing with AI?
What AI Actually Does for Fiction Writers (And What It Doesn’t)
Let’s be clear: AI doesn’t make you a writer.
It helps you remain one, especially when the traditional tools weren’t designed for your brain or body.
I use it to:
- untangle messy notes into outlines,
- rearrange ideas without deleting pages,
- clean up grammar when my energy is gone,
- hold worldbuilding details across multiple scenes and books.
It’s like having a second brain that’s always on, always listening, never judging. And for people with disabilities, neurodivergence, or chronic illness, that is not just helpful—it’s revolutionary.
What I don’t use AI for is heart or generation. I don’t ask it to invent my plot. I don’t let it generate emotional arcs or dialogue.
Work always flows from me to AI and AI to me while the story remains solely between me and the page.
That’s my work, my intuition, my voice.
It suggests, but it doesn’t decide, dictate, or determine.
AI is an Assistant, Not a Replacement
Using AI ethically comes down to this:
Is it amplifying/facilitating your voice, or replacing it?
If it’s giving form to your original thoughts, supporting your rhythm, and helping you bring your world to life, wonderful. But if it’s generating your story for you and you’re just signing off on it? Pause.
There’s a difference between a tool and a substitute.
Use AI to:
- get organized
- build scaffolding
- polish what’s already yours
But come back to the page with your heart, your lived experience, your questions, and your ache to tell a story only you can tell.
Why Some Writers Are Nervous (And Why They Should Be)
Here’s something I think many won’t say out loud:
Part of why some writers dismiss AI so aggressively is that it levels the playing field.
You don’t need perfect grammar anymore.
You don’t need an MFA.
You don’t need to be able-bodied, neurotypical, or have five hours a day of silence to write.
You just need a story—and a tool that helps you tell it.
And that terrifies the gatekeepers.
Because if sentence structure and margins are no longer barriers to entry, then the industry has to start asking:
Whose stories have we been missing because we prioritized polish over perspective?
We’ve Already Been Using AI (And That’s Not a Bad Thing)
There’s a myth that AI in writing is this sudden, radical intrusion. But the truth?
Whether it’s ChatGPT summarizing worldbuilding notes or Grammarly side-eyeing your comma splices, the tools are out there.
You’ve probably used AI today without realizing it.
- Netflix recommending your next binge? AI.
- Gmail finishing your sentence? AI.
- Your spam filter blocking a scam? AI.
- Grammarly suggesting you rewrite “very unique”? AI again.
We’ve accepted these tools because they reduce friction. They help us move through the digital world with more ease, less guesswork, and more time for what matters.
So why should using AI to reword, organize, or format a story be any different?
Real-Time Feedback = Creative Liberation
One of the hardest parts of being a writer, especially with ADHD, dyslexia, or limited energy, is the waiting.
Waiting for feedback.
Waiting to rebuild momentum.
Waiting to remember what that half-finished scene was.
With AI, that loop shortens.
You can:
- get sentence-level feedback instantly,
- check if your dialogue flows before you see a beta reader,
- offer a sensitivity check on triggering material before a human is impacted by it,
- format a screenplay or poem without Googling margins and styles.
That’s not cheating. That’s adapting.
It’s not just faster.
It’s liberating.
It’s safer.
Formatting Doesn’t Have to Be Gatekept
One of the most subtle and cruel barriers in writing is formatting knowledge.
Not knowing how to submit a screenplay or structure a poetry chapbook doesn’t mean your story isn’t worthy. But it can mean it doesn’t get read.
AI can bridge that divide:
- reformat writing into professional screenwriting templates,
- offer proper citation styles and submission standards,
- help polish a poetry collection into a coherent manuscript.
And when you don’t have to spend hours fiddling with tabs and margins, you have more time for what matters:
The soul of the story.
The Truth Behind “Great Writers” (They Have Help)
Here’s what the literary world rarely admits:
Great, prolific, beloved writers?
They’re not doing it alone.
They often have:
- personal assistants tracking timelines and continuity,
- researchers handling historical or worldbuilding facts,
- editors flagging inconsistencies,
- agents, managers, and publicists smoothing every edge.
That scaffolding enables focus, consistency, and polish.
But for so many emerging or independent writers—especially disabled, neurodivergent, or working-class creators—that kind of help is out of reach.
You don’t lack discipline.
You lack an assistant.
AI as the Team You Were Never Given (But Desperately Needed)
For over a decade, I searched for a writing assistant.
Someone to:
- organize my spiraled notes,
- keep a consistent character bible,
- remind me that Declan’s eyes are gold, not green,
- flag when a surname changed spelling halfway through a trilogy.
I couldn’t afford it.
And even when I scrimped, no one could move at the rhythm my brain demanded—bursts of brilliance, sudden lulls, nonlinear cleverness.
But AI could.
It became the repository I always needed—not to write for me, but to hold what I couldn’t hold alone: the continuity, the details, the tabs I kept open in my mind at the cost of flow.
That’s not a shortcut.
That’s a lifeline.
AI Is a Staff of One (And You’re Still the Author)
With the right tools, AI becomes:
- your continuity editor,
- your worldbuilding database,
- your story log manager,
- your spellchecker, formatter, and esteem builder.
And the best part?
It costs less than hiring five people, never shames your process, and is available at 2 AM when your creativity finally catches fire.
You are still the author.
You are still the soul of this work.
AI just clears the path so you can walk it fully.
AI Didn’t Make Me a Writer (It Helped Me Keep Being One)
This isn’t a defense of AI.
It’s a reclamation of storytelling.
This is the way disabled, learning-different, or single moms working two jobs, raising kids, and still passionately trying to create (in the eight minutes of free time they get between 6:05 AM and 6:13 AM) can finally weave myth.
This is the way spiral notes and midnight bursts can become novels.
This is the way AI, when used with care and clarity, lets us bring more of ourselves to the page, not less.
I don’t need AI to be a writer; I need it so I won’t have to quit being one.
