The Impact of AI on Creative Writing: Remixing Chandler, Hemingway, and Bukowski

Midjourney: Chandler, Hemingway, and Bukowski Having Drinks

If the fate of penmanship is destined to dance to the beat of hip-hop, then the stakes are high for style - it'll be the headliner, with remixes of it taking the opening act. 

I've been tinkering around in the playground of AI-driven writing using tools like Sudowrite and ChatGPT. I've been immersing myself in text so steeped in style and personality that when I return to the unembellished simplicity of regular prose, it feels as engaging as watching paint dry. 

Is some of it cheesy, like that last sentence, yes. And this next sentence. In that, I've found myself drawn to this layered opulence of syntax, like a moth to a flame? Of course. But the output from AI writing can turn into a complex symphony if the conductor - or, in this case, the DJ - knows how to orchestrate the ensemble. 

I decided to experiment a little, mixing things up like a master mixologist. I poured the sharp, hard-boiled style of Raymond Chandler into the shaker and then splashed in the stripped-down, ice-cold prose of Hemingway. It was like pairing a shot of fiery whiskey with a cool chaser, the two elements colliding and fusing into something that was tantalisingly fun. 

But the concoction wasn't complete. Because you have to stir in your own prose, adding another layer of flavour to the mix. The result is a collaborative cocktail of styles, each component adding its unique essence, resulting in a blend that is refreshing and intoxicating in equal measures.

As I took a sip of the cocktail, I felt the spirits of Chandler and Hemingway coursing through my veins. The tartness of Chandler's voice, mixed with the simplicity of Hemingway's prose, was unlike anything I had ever tasted before.

But there was still something missing. The drink lacked a certain heat, a passion that Chandler's style was known for. I needed to add something to the mix that would set it ablaze.

So, I reached for the bottle of Bukowski and poured a healthy shot into the shaker. The smoothness of Bukowski's words was like honey, but with a kick that could light a flame in the heart of any reader.

As I shook the mixture, I couldn't help but feel excited. This was going to be one hell of a drink, and when ChatGPT poured it out onto the page, it was something different altogether.

The transformation of writing was like this:

Two different versions of my prose from an AI-assisted novel I’m working on:

“There is no set method in the journey ahead,” Gladys said as if she was not yet done dispensing her mile-high wisdom. “No safety manual to soften your fall, nor oxygen mask to prolong your voice. And when the world you built is on fire, there is only the floatation device you crafted beforehand. Floating away is easy, but finding a way is hard.”

“There’s no prescribed path in the journey that lies ahead,” Gladys continued as if she hadn’t yet exhausted her wisdom at 35,000 feet. “No safety manual to cushion your tumble, no oxygen mask to sustain your outcry. And when the world you’ve constructed is ablaze, you’re left with only the life vest you pieced together beforehand. Floating adrift is simple, but finding direction is hard.”

Then I asked ChatGPT to rewrite them in the different styles of certain authors.

Chandler:

“There ain’t a roadmap for the journey ahead,” Gladys drawled, her words spilling over with mile-high sagacity like she hadn’t quite finished her sermon. “There’s no cushioned guidebook to break your fall, no gas mask to keep your voice kicking. And when the world you’ve cobbled together starts burning, all you’ve got is the life raft you stitched up yourself. Drifting is a cinch, but charting a course, now that’s a real son-of-a-gun.”

Hemingway:

“There’s no sure way in what’s to come,” Gladys spoke, her words still ripe with wisdom despite our high-altitude setting. “No guide to ease your stumble, no air mask to aid your outcry. And when the world you’ve erected is ablaze, all you’ve got is the life raft you prepared before. Drifting is simple, but navigating, that’s the real challenge.”

Bukowski:

“No playbook for the road ahead,” Gladys spit out, like she was still sitting on a goldmine of wisdom up here in the thin air. “No safety card to cushion your hard landing, no damn oxygen mask to keep your shouts alive. And when the world you put together is burning, all you’ve got is the makeshift raft you stitched up before. Drifting’s a breeze, but figuring out a direction, that’s a hell of a thing,” she finished.”

But not liking the individual parts, I liked the prompt I had best when I asked ChatGPT to remix the original prose I had into the styles of the three different authors all at once.

Prompt: Rewrite this in the mixed style of Raymond Chandler, Hemingway and Bukowski: “text”

Chandler, Hemingway, Bukowski:

“There ain’t no roadmap for the path that’s coming,” Gladys spoke like she hadn’t finished unloading her stash of wisdom from the high altitude. “No handy dandy guide to ease your stumble, no life-giving mask to keep your voice from going under. And when your world’s ablaze, all you’ve got is the makeshift raft you patched together. Staying afloat’s a breeze, but plotting a course, now that’s the real kicker.””

I then edited my favourite parts together and got this:

“There ain’t no roadmap for the path that’s coming,” Gladys spoke like she hadn’t finished unloading her stash of wisdom from 35,000 feet. “No handy dandy guide to ease your stumble, no life-giving mask to keep your voice from going under. And when your constructed world’s ablaze, you’re left with only the life vest you pieced together beforehand. Staying afloat’s a breeze, but plotting a course, now that’s hard.””

In the great foundry of imagination, the base elements of Hemingway's terseness, Chandler's tenacity, and Bukowski's raw fervour, when alloyed with our distinctive voice, hold the promise of forging something altogether fresh. Which voice, which style you elect to adopt, well, that's your call. AI-powered writing aids like Sudowrite and ChatGPT aren't mere tools; they're partners in the creative process, unfurling a sandbox for bold exploration and daring experiments.

If we’re to take Stephen Marche’s piece The Future of Writing Is a Lot Like Hip-Hop in the Atlantic last week at face value, the notion that AI poses a threat to human originality in creativity is misplaced. Marche argues that originality has already taken a backseat to derivativeness in our modern culture. The film industry, for instance, saw the highest-grossing films of 2022 being sequels or reboots, pointing to a dearth of fresh stories. The music scene too reflects a slump in the audience for new tunes, showing a marked leaning towards the "catalogue music" of yesteryears. Literature hasn't been spared either, with the dominance of social realism and a trend favouring derivative book cover designs. According to Marche, we're living in an age that's defined more by rehashing and repackaging old content than by birthing truly original work.

These tools, then, arm us with the ability to mash together the old and the new, the known and the unknown, into a style that's unmistakably our own. We get to be the DJ, the cocktail wizard, the head chef - blending, remixing, and crafting something that's more than just the sum of its parts.

In this grand ballet of creativity, the AI doesn't take the lead; it echoes our rhythm. It tunes into our melody and mirrors our steps, amplifying our voice rather than drowning it. It's a thrilling partnership, a new epoch of co-creation where the human spirit and AI intricacies meld into a seamless harmony.

So let's keep the music rolling, keep tinkering, keep birthing new ideas. The tempo of writing is changing, and we're at the vanguard, not merely moving to the beat but setting it. It's an open invitation to waltz with AI, to craft a unique style, to spin a yarn that's never been spun before. The dance hall of creativity is wide open, and it's our time to step up and take the helm.