Anything Can Now Exist: Writing Capabilities of Human-AI Collaborations
This is one of the essays in The AI Writing Impasse series.
It was another of those staring into space moments. About a minute before then, I was editing Ije Africa’s next blog post. But whenever I do stuff like that — especially because I have not been all too satisfied with the output from my custom GPT, or maybe it’s because I have realized I am either too demanding for the output I can get or I am bad at prompting and creating custom GPTs — I tend to take mental breaks from the looming overwhelm.
We could say this was another case in that point. This minute, I was staring ahead. Aloofly. Then, I opened a new tab on Chrome, and started typing away. I started out wanting to kill boredom, then wanting to see how quickly I would type, then the idea of just stringing the first thing that came to mind became fascinating. All those thought processes happened in split seconds. Or perhaps a minute. All I know is I had a long line of text, until I was no longer interested in the “game”. I had already typed this in a winding line in the search bar:
“Let’s go get it! No, we’re getting nada. But do you love me? Yes, I love you, baby. I’m not your baby. As you wish. You mean as I like it? How do you like it? I would have imagined you know. Maybe I want to hear it from you. You’re cunny. You mean coy? Coy, alright. Why are you looking at me that way? What way? That way. You know it. I’m not sure I do. Hmm. Of course, you don’t. The same way I don’t know how you like it. Haha, funny you. Yes, there are many sides to me. What other sides are there? I don’t tell, I show. Of course, you do.”
The mind is a dumping site for residues from interactions, tropes, past behaviors, past scenarios, and even consumed material. So, all of that came from a place. Or several places. I know those several talking stages are co-conspirators. The plots and novels I have reviewed for Wale are co-conspirators too. But that’s beside the point.
So, I got mischievous and thought to see what could become of that. I tasked Meta AI with deciphering the scenario, setting, and people involved. I further asked it: “In essence, how does it become a part of a story?”
I wasn’t surprised by the output. That’s about the best job AI tools can do today. It wrapped up by saying: “Overall, this conversation has the potential to be a key moment in a romantic story, showcasing the chemistry and playfulness between the two characters.”
Meta AI did capture the surface-level and deeper underpinnings of the text. And so, I got more ambitious: “What if I made this a story?” That is, of course, a mission we can’t trust Meta AI with — and also the perfect opportunity to test GPT4.5, which many have claimed to be great at creative writing.
I fed it a prompt that’s quite different: “Decipher the scenario, setting, people involved. Then pick up the tempo and let me see what you can turn this into. I essentially had this much because I opened a blank Chrome tab and was stringing the first thing that came to mind without pausing.”
It cooked, so much so that I decided to up the prompt. But, let’s see the initial cooking (scroll through to see the sequence):
So, I asked for a full story: “It’s a male-female interaction. Give the characters their gender, write the portions that would have precluded this, and the portions that would have succeeded it. All clean, nothing x-rated, but as edgy as what I sent.”
It did deliver. However, in classical fashion, I had concerns. For someone who just stringed things together — or who claims to have done just that — I had issues with how the interaction was interpreted and then assigned to characters. I mean, why fuss over what was nothing until it started to look like it could be something?
I asked again: You have misused my part of the story. Each line from me should be attributed to each character. And if Daniel is the boundary tester [this was defined by the tool], I’d expect he’s the one claiming they’re getting nada and saying how do you like it…
Sit back, and settle into how the aggregation of past interactions and my interaction with GPT4.5 birthed a story. And I know I promised (well, I didn’t promise, I just said I was going to) to write a sequel to my essay on love. Many people had reacted positively to the snippet I shared. This may look like a disappointment. But as I said on WhatsApp, “the mind will write what the mind wants to write.” Let’s go get it!
(I know you caught that, or maybe you didn’t, and if you didn’t, you have now caught it).
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A sophisticated rooftop bar, bathed in twilight. The city below is beginning to shimmer with lights, the gentle rhythm of ambient music underscoring the playful tension between Daniel and Lara. They sit facing each other, their body language relaxed but attentively tuned to each other’s subtle shifts.
Daniel swirls his drink, leaning casually forward, eyes bright with mischief. “Are you always this difficult, Lara?”
She lifts an eyebrow, smiling faintly. “Only with people who deserve it.”
“Harsh,” he laughs lightly. “I thought we had something special.”
“Special,” she repeats slowly, savoring the word. “You say that like it’s easy.”
“Maybe it is,” Daniel replies, smiling warmly yet playfully challenging. “Or maybe you just prefer making things complicated.”
Lara tilts her head, feigning innocence, “Complicated or interesting?”
“Ah,” Daniel nods knowingly, lifting his glass. “You do enjoy this, don’t you?”
She mirrors his gesture, eyes holding his firmly. “Enjoy what exactly?”
Lara’s eyes gleam with playful enthusiasm. “Let’s go get it!”
Daniel leans back slowly, shaking his head with exaggerated pessimism. “No, we’re getting nada.”
She pauses, considering him carefully, voice softer yet daring. “But do you love me?”
His expression softens slightly, amused yet genuine. “Yes, I love you, baby.”
Her lips curl into a teasing smile, correcting him lightly. “I’m not your baby.”
He shrugs gently, accepting her challenge. “As you wish.”
She narrows her eyes playfully. “You mean as I like it?”
Daniel grins, holding her gaze boldly. “How do you like it?”
She feigns mild disappointment, eyes sparkling. “I would have imagined you’d know.”
“Maybe I want to hear it from you,” Daniel counters softly, clearly enjoying this.
Lara’s smile widens, shaking her head. “You’re cunny.”
He corrects her lightly, voice tinged with amusement, “You mean coy?”
“Coy, alright,” she concedes, amused by his precision.
Daniel pauses, eyes narrowing thoughtfully as he studies her expression.
Lara feels his gaze linger, her own eyes narrowing with curious anticipation. “Why are you looking at me that way?”
“What way?” Daniel asks innocently, holding his amusement carefully hidden.
She leans in slightly, voice lowering to a more intimate tone. “That way. You know exactly how.”
Daniel shrugs playfully, letting ambiguity hang. “I’m not sure I do.”
“Hmm,” she draws out slowly, knowingly. “Of course you don’t. The same way I don’t know how you like it.”
He chuckles quietly, nodding with appreciation. “Haha, funny you.”
Her eyes glitter warmly, voice low with intriguing confidence. “Yes, there are many sides to me.”
Daniel leans forward just slightly, curiosity piqued. “What other sides are there?”
She pauses deliberately, her gaze intense yet playful. “I don’t tell — I show.”
“Of course you do,” he murmurs, intrigued, the tension rich between them.
Daniel shifts slightly, his voice dropping, edged with playful suspicion. “Should I be worried?”
Lara tilts her head, considering. “About what?”
“About these ‘many sides,’” he clarifies teasingly.
“Depends,” she smiles coyly, voice playful yet firm, “on how well you handle surprises.”
He raises an eyebrow, accepting her challenge. “I happen to thrive on surprises.”
She leans back leisurely, looking out at the cityscape momentarily, a small smile lingering on her lips. “Bold claim.”
“I can back it up,” Daniel insists softly, matching her confidence.
Lara turns back, locking eyes. “Promises, promises.”
He pauses, then leans slightly closer, voice quieter but direct. “And what if I kept every single one?”
Her gaze holds steadily, refusing to yield easily. “Then maybe we’d both learn something.”
“About each other?” Daniel suggests, voice rich with implication.
She nods faintly, her eyes glowing with satisfaction. “Among other things.”
He smiles, holding her gaze, savoring the charged silence before finally breaking it gently, warmly teasing again. “You never make things easy, do you?”
Her expression softens ever so slightly, voice becoming genuine beneath the playful facade. “No. But I’m worth the trouble.”
Daniel leans back, clearly pleased by the statement, the night and their conversation full of possibility. “Of course, you are.”
They both remain quietly focused on each other, the city lights fading into a distant blur, their playful exchange layered with anticipation — eagerly poised on the threshold of something they both sense but neither fully reveals.
Characters Clarified:
- Daniel: Late 20s, teasing, confident, enjoys gently pushing boundaries, thrives in playful ambiguity.
- Lara: Mid-20s, composed, intelligent, witty, enjoys matching Daniel’s energy while maintaining her poised, provocative charm.
That is the story. I am struggling to leave it as is, as I type this. But if the above is what you end up reading and there is no editor’s note in this essay, then, I convinced myself to leave it by arguing for GPT4.5’s output, knowing that any story is what you make of it, and the story — this story — is GPT4.5’s to tell. I gave it the agency to take what I had strung together and turn it into a story. And if any story is what you make of it, I should not obsess over wanting a version that suits the picture-perfect realization I arrived at when I interpreted what I had written.
Because, again, that picture-perfect version is nothing but the aggregation of other stories. And in that version, it is Daniel asking why she is looking at him, and it is him saying, “of course you don’t, the same way I don’t know how you like it”, because he was the one who asked how she liked it in the first place. He should be the one saying there are many sides to him, and that he shows and doesn’t tell, and everything that would have flowed from there.
But no story is perfect. No story should be perfect.