Like most people, I’m still pretty wary of AI. Sure, I see its potential. It can be a huge help for anyone who feels unsure about their writing, whether it’s drafting an email, formalising a letter, or even just getting the ball rolling on a project. In some cases, it’s a quick and effective way to structure ideas. For example, when I needed to switch a chapter from past to present tense in my latest manuscript, AI was super efficient in helping me achieve that. But—and this is where the problem lies—it wasn’t perfect. While it fixed the tense in the narrative, it also made some odd choices in the dialogue, getting a few tenses wrong. The truth is, AI is still far from foolproof.

I’ve heard AI specialists say that the quality of the output is largely dependent on the instructions you give the machine. The more precise and detailed you are, the better the result. And yes, the more the AI is trained, the more it learns the nuances of the writing process and produces something that seems ... good enough. But when it comes to the artistry of fiction, I’m not entirely convinced.

So, I thought I’d give AI a little test. I asked it to write a scene for me, specifically one I could use in a suspense novel. Here’s the prompt I gave:

"Write me a scene between two middle-aged women in a coffeeshop in a beachside suburb. They are worried about a mutual friend who has been withdrawing lately. There are rumours her husband may be controlling but they don't have evidence. This is for a suspense novel, it needs dialogue and scene setting, and must be English spelling."

Here’s the scene AI came up with:

The café hummed with chatter as the morning sun poured through the windows, its rays dancing on the surfboards hanging on the walls. The scent of saltwater mingled with fresh coffee, and outside, dogs chased frisbees along the beach.
At a corner table, two middle-aged women sat, their coffee cups nearly forgotten. The conversation was far more urgent than the relaxing vibe around them.
Sally stirred her coffee, her blonde hair streaked with silver catching the light. She wore a faded denim jacket over a floral blouse, eyes narrowed in concern.
Janine, across from her, shifted in her seat, tapping her foot nervously. Her auburn hair was tied in a messy bun, and her blue eyes had a sharp intensity.
“So, have you heard from Claire?” Sally asked quietly.
Janine shook her head. “I called her yesterday. No answer. Same with my texts.”
Sally’s frown deepened. “It’s not like her to go quiet for days.”
Janine slammed her cup down. “I think it’s her husband. He’s got to be behind this.”
Sally stiffened. “You think? It’s all rumours, Jan.”
Janine leaned in, voice low. “You don’t just disappear like that without a reason. And the way he looks at her—like he controls her—it’s creepy.”
Sally glanced out the window, her mind racing. “Maybe it’s just stress. Renovations, the kids… she’s probably overwhelmed.”
“No,” Janine said firmly, shaking her head. “She’s shut down. I know Claire. And her husband—there’s something off about him. He’s controlling.”
Sally’s eyes widened. “You really think he’s—”
“I know he is,” Janine interrupted. “You can feel it. He’s pulling her strings, Sally. It’s wrong.”
Sally shifted uncomfortably, the weight of it all sinking in. “So, what do we do?”
Janine’s lips curled into a grim smile. “We stop waiting around. We find out what’s going on.”
The two women sat in silence, the sound of the waves outside seeming distant as they processed the gravity of their conversation.

On first glance, the scene isn’t terrible. The setting is clear, the dialogue could pass, although a little stilted, and the tone is on point for a suspenseful moment between friends. But it’s also incredibly... flat. There’s nothing truly gripping about it. The characters feel a bit stiff, and the tension is present but not nearly as strong as it should be for a suspense novel. It lacks that sharp, emotional edge that makes readers care about what happens next. And it’s rife with cliches.

*Photo by* *Jonathan Kemper* on *Unsplash*

So, to answer the big question: Will AI replace fiction writers? Not yet. And honestly, maybe not ever.

What makes a book unforgettable isn’t just its structure or how perfectly its sentences are crafted—it’s the voice behind it. It’s the writer’s lens on the world, their unique perspective, their lived experiences. AI doesn’t have that.

The charm of a story, the reason we become emotionally invested, is often because of the person telling it. It’s their voice, their characters, their quirks and flaws that draw us in. You’re not just reading words on a page—you’re connecting with a soul who has something to say. AI, no matter how sophisticated, doesn’t have the messy beauty of life experience. It can mimic human speech, sure, but it can’t feel.

My husband, who works in IT, has a strong opinion about the future of self-driving cars—he’s convinced they’ll never be truly reliable. He believes human intuition, that split-second decision-making that takes everything into account, is something machines can never replicate. And I think the same holds true for writing. AI may be a useful tool, but it won’t replace the heart and soul that comes from a human writer. It also fails to recognise that half the joy of writing is in the process. Wrangling sentences, sorting plot holes, developing complex characters. Bringing a story to life is why we write.

So, will AI ever take over creative writing? I don’t think so. At least, not in a way that will resonate with readers in the long term. It might help you start a draft or give you ideas, but it won’t ever capture what makes a book truly alive. That’s still something only we, as writers, can create.

What are your thoughts? Do you use AI? Can you tell if something has been written by a bot? Join the conversation.

Kylie

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