Making AI Practical and Practicable
Creative writing, some ficiton, some non-fiction, none of it scandalous enough to be published under my pen name.
Writing is a weird thing to do. Setting words down on a page is massively impoverished next to a conversation. You can’t read the room, or the single person you’re talking to. Chances are you aren’t even there to see it when the message lands. There’s no room to pivot,…
And yet it seems like everyone else knows the rules doesn’t it? They got a fucking manual and we didn’t. Life’s not fair kid, but it’s horrible and messy and wonderful, just like what you’re chasing after.
totally reasonable to expect that I could just post through it, right friends? Abandon everything you’ve ever known, pick up another language, navigate an alien, baroque and frankly mildly hostile bureaucracy, and keep on trucking. Very normal, very reasonable expectations.
A short story on the dangers of misapplying generative AI technology, born of a prompt for a writing competition and more than a few at-bats with folks wanting to treat LLMs as a panacea.
This is a short story I wrote for a competition whose theme was queer joy. It’s a fictionalized account of how we settled on my parental title in our little family.