Two years ago I wrote an article about how to utilize AI as a tool in children’s writing. At the time, ChatGPT was still in its first iterations, and many creatives had only the faintest ideas about generative AI. In the middle grade world, authors were mostly just trying to figure out what AI would mean for them, if anything at all.
I think it’s safe to say things have changed since then, and I wanted to come back to this topic with fresh eyes to see if the undertones of techno-optimism that permeated my first piece on the subject still resonate the way they did back in 2023. There are, after all, some new realities that authors must face head-on.
For one, it’s simply no longer accurate to say that AI writing is cheesy, formulaic, and easy to spot. Large language models like ChatGPT, Claude, and Gemini have become astonishingly good at mimicking human authors in tone, humor, and even complex themes woven through longer pieces. YouTuber and developmental editor Alyssa Matesic recently did a side-by-side of AI writing and short stories written by professional authors, and the two were startlingly difficult to tell apart.
That also begs the question of how AI models have gotten so good. Since 2023, big tech companies have scraped vast libraries of unlicensed and copyrighted material to train their models. It’s a controversial topic, and too intricate to dive into here, but it has forced many authors to divert attention away from the creative process and think carefully about how to protect their work.
Still, the biggest issue probably isn’t about detectability or fair use, but the mere fact that AI writing exists at all. The very possibility of humanlike AI writing has cast a shadow over the legitimate efforts of human writers everywhere. Even the once-loved em dash has become a symbol of AI skepticism, with many authors consciously adjusting their tone and techniques to look less like the AI that used their writing to develop its own voice in the first place. It’s a strangely ironic dance that creators across all fields have been doing since generative AI exploded onto the scene in the last few years.
So is it really fair to say that AI is “just a tool” the way I described it back in 2023? It would be a bit like a master craftsman returning to his worksite after a lunch break to find that his hammer had come to life and built the rest of the house without him. It sounds nice, but what if the craftsman actually enjoyed building houses? What if he’d spent his whole life learning to do it well? What if everyone then assumed that all his houses – countless hours of work – had been built by the magic hammer?
So what is a middle grade author to do in this strange new world? Since this post is just around the corner from Thanksgiving, I’m choosing to slant toward gratitude. Even in this weird and sometimes scary landscape of publishing in 2025, there are quite a few things to be thankful for.
Authors are fighting back and winning.
A U.S. federal judge gave preliminary approval to a $1.5 billion settlement between Anthropic PBC and authors who alleged nearly half a million books were pirated to train AI chatbots. It’s a major win for writers wanting more accountability from AI developers.
Readers want human-made books.
As AI writing continues to permeate the book market, consumers are becoming more vocal about their preference for human work. In a recent poll by YouGov, well over half of respondents reported that they’d feel less fulfilled after learning a book they’d read was authored with AI. There are also new projects popping up like the “Human Authored” initiative from the Authors Guild. It’s a promising sign that readers are rediscovering the incredible value of human connection and contribution.
As a tool, AI is only getting better.
In its rightful place, AI continues to be a transformative technology that can untether creators and allow them to make and explore more than ever before. As a research tool, for example, AI cites its sources with more accuracy than it did back in 2023, and it can also summarize and synthesize material extraordinarily well. Even for this piece, which is admittedly a bit skeptical of AI’s prevalence overall, I used AI tools to find sources and make connections. I just had to keep that hammer locked up in the toolbox when it came time to write, design the art, etc. Many have equated this dynamic with letting AI “do the dishes”. Artificial Intelligence can handle the chores so creatives can do the fun stuff (although not all the time, as we learned from NEO — skip to 2:55 for a good laugh).
So have I changed my mind about AI over the last two years? Should you? These are questions worth exploring, but let’s not spend too much time perseverating on a dynamic that changes almost daily.
After all, we’ve got writing to do.
The Elvis mug
Unfortunately, a few months ago this mug broke. Don’t ask me how, no one will tell me. My husband glued the handle back on but a chunk was missing. I was going through a Harry Styles thing (I mean, who wasn’t?) and my older daughter, both mortified and milking it for laugh-at-mom value bought me a “You’re So Golden” mug as a replacement work mug. It’s a good one, although it’s a bit more irreverent and less earnest than the SCBWI one. I use it for work, but also sometimes when I need a bit of pep. It should also be said that since my book was published, I have found the definition of work to be different. Rather than just going into my home office to write, I am suddenly running another small business — essentially a marketing and PR firm for my book. It is such different and unexpected work. But perhaps that’s another blog post.
All I know is, I hope my mugs don’t break. I hope that people everywhere love my book. I hope I have more books in me. I hope my family stays safe. Even without my mugs these are my hopes and fears.
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