A Polite War of Words
Whose Fighting Who?
If you’re a city dweller, the drilling noises, police, fire and ambulance sirens, and the banging from construction in the apartment above are merely white noise. But to a writer who needs silence to capture the essence of their character, become them, and visualize their setting so deeply you can walk in their world, it’s torture. Every time you’re just about to hear that important next line from your character, the one that will change everything, thud, buzz—ugh. You’re out of it. So you stare out the city-slicked window trying to find the way back in, but your mind wanders and muses on random things. Like AI, for example. Not the should-you-or-shouldn’t-you use it debate. Nor the discussion about the reliance on it despite the assurance that your privacy and copyrights won’t be respected. No, you go to weirder places. Creating plots you will ultimately use in a future story, playing out interesting perceptions and dilemmas. You might, for example, ponder down a twisty rabbit hole such as this:
You’re having an email war of words correspondence with someone with whom you have mutual disrespect. It begins when, out of the blue, you receive a howler listing their grievances with you, none of which are actual infractions you’ve made. It’s nonsense, crazy-speak, but the personal jabs raise your blood pressure until you shake. Given the sensitivity of the situation, and your working relationship, you need to toe the line and not make waves with this individual. But staying silent is not an option. It’s now a write-that-email-and-whatever-you-do, don’t send it kind of situation, because your honest and raw reaction will only push buttons and incite the advancing war. What to do? Well, ask AI, of course.
You prompt: “Here is a letter Mary received from Bob. She has to respond graciously, while not backing down or apologizing for something she didn’t do or say. Suggest a response.”
“Sure,” ChatGPT says, “here’s a reasonable response from Mary that is respectful and still gets her point across.” The suggestion is pretty decent. You click copy and paste it into your email. Send.
Less than two hours later, you receive a long-winded and biting response from your adversary. Bewildered and shaking yet again, you take it and paste it into ChatGPT’s box. New prompt: “How should Mary respond to this now?” Once again, ChatGPT comes back with another smooth retort, one that certainly takes the high road and throws in a couple of invisible zingers. Cut. Paste. Send.
This rally goes on for two days before it hits you. You open ChatGPT and prompt:
“If Bob creates a nasty email to Mary via ChatGPT, and Mary asks ChatGPT to respond, and this goes on for days, are Mary and Bob a part of the exchange, or is ChatGPT having a fight with itself?”
Philosophical contemplations aside-August kicked off a wild and crazy book journey for this author. Here’s the brief:
First stop, Killer Nashville, where, despite my fear of public speaking, I’ll be giving a presentation on the Road to Publishing. Come watch this great debacle or triumph!
Have you forced yourself to face a fear or a phobia? How did you conquer it?
While we’re discussing Killer Nashville (which I brought up)…
Make Not Yours to Keep A Reader’s Choice Winner:
It’s Simple: Click Here
A CUT THE LINE TIP: CTL+F search for Zelly Ruskin to vote for Not Yours to Keep (it’s a SUPER long, alphabetical list 🥴)
You do not need to be registered for the Killer Nashville Conference to vote.
Voting ends August 18, 2025
In between conferences, events and book festivals, I’ve been having a blast meeting readers at Book Clubs. This recent group couldn’t have been warmer or more welcoming, and their enthusiasm made the evening such an easy, enjoyable time together. Great meeting you all Heritage Oaks! 🤗
Last Licks
I love the question you pose: "Who's fighting whom?"
The answer for me is invariably that *I* am fighting myself. Battling my inattention, struggling against my fractured focus, losing the war to current and ancient distractions.
And there go my writing goals...
Yet ironically, it all ultimately shows up in my character.
Transference.