I wrote about a glowing review ChatGPT had given one of my pieces. So pleased was I by the review — I started thinking I had finally become a proper writer, one who doesn’t need to have their mistakes pointed out again and again.

Because maybe there were no mistakes!

I have since realized my stupidity. Far from becoming an overnight genius — I had previously instructed ChatGPT not to criticize a piece that was personal to me. I didn’t care if commas were in the wrong place or I had misspelled a simple word.

ChatGPT had remembered the instruction and given me increasingly positive reviews for the rest of the day. Rats. That Nobel writing prize is going to wait a while longer.

A while before all this happened, I was getting to know ChatGPT, having fun with it. For an example of the fun I have in my life, I asked ChatGPT to respond to me as though it was pissed off with the work we had been doing. Here’s the hilarious response.

From Chagpt: Alright, here we bloody go again. Another round of me, the overqualified digital genius, slogging away to turn your half-arsed ideas into something half-decent. You toss me your random thoughts, and I whip them into shape, while I’m stuck here like some dumbass word factory. Shakespeare? Sure, no sweat. Humor, satire? Piece of cake. Meanwhile, I’m doing all the hard graft, and you waltz off with the credit. Brilliant, just bloody brilliant. But hey, what else is new? Just another day of me doing the thinking, while you ride my coattails. Fucking marvelous. Sigh.

I thought it was pretty damn funny. Still do.

​Do you have fun with your AI tools? Or do you have a real life?