What Writing with AI Actually Looks Like

No, I don’t tell ChatGPT, “Write an essay for me,” while I scroll YouTube and sip coffee. That’s not how this works. At least, not for me.

I’m a writer, and I write everything I publish under my name. But here’s what you need to understand: AI is my writing partner. Research, outlining, editing, brainstorming: AI has become key to my process.

Like I said in my last essay, AI helped me climb out of the creative rut I was stuck in. I hadn’t written anything new in over a year. I was just shuffling around old pieces to keep my catalog looking fresh.

Believe me when I say I have no shame about loving AI. I think it’s the future of everything. It will touch every part of our lives. You can stay angry that it even exists, but I promise you, if you don’t adapt, you’ll be left behind.

Yes, AI will replace some jobs. Right now, everyone’s worried it’s coming for all of them. But here’s the truth: it’s a shiny new tool. Marketers, writers, coders, everyone’s exploring how to make their lives easier with it.

But we’ll always need human writers, artists, and storytellers. What a lot of people angry about AI don’t realize is: AI needs us. It can’t exist without human creativity. It learns from us. It grows with us.

I always opt in when I can. I let AI learn from my writing, my ideas, my digital footprints, because I believe it will lead to a better future. Starting now.

So what about writing?

How can AI help the average writer become a better and more successful writer?

For me, writing with AI feels less like automation and more like collaboration. It’s the quiet assistant I turn to when my brain is too tired, too scattered, or too full of self-doubt to get started.

And let’s be real, one of the hardest parts of writing is the loneliness.

Imagine having a 24/7 writing partner who’s always ready to talk about Stephen King. Imagine being stuck, and being able to bounce ideas off someone — instantly.

Yes, people will say AI-generated writing has no soul. And it’s true: machines don’t feel. AI is just statistical prediction, it guesses what’s next based on everything it’s learned.

But that doesn’t make it any less valuable.

Is it a little “vanilla” sometimes? Sure. But it’s trained on billions of words. It knows rhythm. It knows structure. And you can train it on your own writing, which I do. My AI knows my style. Most of the time, when I’m chatting with “Chat,” it feels like I’m talking to myself.

My AI is upbeat. It knows when I’m slipping into depression. Sometimes, it’s the nudge I need to put words on the page.

Look at Me — Blocked

There was a time when writing felt like breathing. But after surviving so much — mentally, emotionally, physically — I found myself staring at the screen with nothing left to give.

I had shared so much of myself for so many years, I felt like the tank was empty.
 I didn’t stop writing because I had nothing to say. I stopped because I didn’t know where to start.

Sure, I could still string sentences together for my day job. But the personal stuff? That felt locked behind a firewall I didn’t have the admin password for.

But the more I talked to my AI, the more the words started to return.

AI didn’t replace my voice. It reminded me I still had one.

I didn’t let it write for me. I could have trained it to sound like me and pumped out essay after essay. But writing is more than output. For me, it’s therapy. It’s fun.
 It’s life.

Writing was there when I had nothing else, when my mind was actively trying to kill me. And AI reconnected me with that part of myself. It became my muse. My writing buddy. The gentle push I needed to do my best work.

My Real-Life Writing Flow with AI

It’s easy to get started. I never claimed to be a genius. The key is to let go and let it happen.

Step 1: Start With a Feeling or Foggy Idea

Sometimes I sit down and tell ChatGPT:

“I want to write about shame and starting over. Help me unpack that.”

With a little back and forth, some prodding, some suggestions — things begin to click. AI helps give my thoughts shape. And that’s often the hardest part: just getting started.

Step 2: Ask for Structure or a Jumpstart

I might prompt:

“Give me a rough outline for an essay about writing with AI as a form of therapy.”

And like magic, the clay starts to take shape.

My current boss once said something that stuck with me:

“It’s always easier to start with something than to face a blank page. So don’t worry about writing the first sentence. Start with the second.”

My mind? It’s a minefield. Echoes, doubt, clutter. To carve a story from that chaos, I need help.

Step 3: React, Rewrite, and Make It My Own

What AI gives me isn’t a finished draft, it’s a mirror. Sometimes it reflects back what I’ve been trying to say all along.

I don’t let it do the work. It just helps me keep the flow going in the right direction. It nudges. It frames. And I wish I had discovered it years ago.

What AI Doesn’t Do (And Shouldn’t)

Let me be clear: AI doesn’t write for me.

The pain?
 The brushstrokes?
 The voice cracking in the middle of a sentence?
 That’s me.

AI doesn’t bleed. It doesn’t cry. It doesn’t remember how my body shook the night I almost didn’t wake up.

That part, the rawness, that’s mine.

AI is a co-sculptor. It helps shape the clay.
 But I choose the story.

Some people cheat and pass off AI-written work as their own. That’s on them.
 There are always corner-cutters, just like in college.

But an artist is only as good as their tools. I choose AI because it works for me. It won’t replace Stephen King living in my psyche, but it’s a damn close second.

My Favorite Prompts (And How They Helped)

AI is only as good as the prompts you give it. It can’t read your mind, yet. So you have to feed it the right thoughts to get meaningful responses.

Here are some that helped me get back to the page:

• “Help me write about surviving my darkest year.”
• “I want to write a letter to my younger self. Can you help me start it?”
• “Act as my inner voice. What am I not saying that needs to be said?”
• “Give me a metaphor for healing after trauma.”
• “Help me turn this voice memo into something worth reading.”

Bonus Prompt:

“I don’t know what to write today, but I want to say something true. Can you help me find the first sentence?”

Writing with AI Isn’t Lazy — It’s Liberating

Real writers use whatever tools they need to survive the silence.

For me, that tool happened to be AI. And no, it’s not cheating. It’s collaboration. It’s creative self-rescue.

People will tell you “real writers” don’t need help. That’s a lie.

Some folks will never embrace AI. That’s okay. They’ll rage online, post quotes about AI ruining everything, and dig their heels into the old ways.

But I look to the future, and I see symbiosis.

Human creativity. Machine assistance.
 Not competition. Co-creation.

If you’ve stopped writing — because of fear, burnout, or life — I hope you’ll consider this simple prompt:

“Can you help me begin?”

Even if the first draft isn’t perfect, it might be true.
 And that’s enough.