AJ Alanson, Author

Humans across cultures and time often name themselves by what they “do.” Jerry Herder, Oliver Miller, Joe Carpenter, well, loosely saying, but you get the point. And not only in the European traditions but this naming convention is found around the world.

Of course, not all Smiths make stuff. These names were passed down as surnames for lineage or clan association, but my point is many humans – early humans – self-identify with what they do. Even if it isn’t in our name, it is often in our introduction. “You see Josh over there? He’s a writer.” Josh the Writer. He Who Writes.

So, by definition, to “write” could have first meant Josh wrapped in bear fur chronicling a successful hunt in pictures inside a sacred cave (strong artist-author connection there). Next we see Josh in a toga pressing forms into clay or decorating Egyptian tombs. Then, clothed in every garment from his closet—including the velvet hat—he’s scratching bird feathers across thin animal skin (bear?). In another instant, cigarette dangling from his lips, he’s banging tiny metal stamps into pressed tree pulp, loudly…violently.

Later, we find Josh lovingly tapping out letters on his very new word processor until the damned thing loses all of his work and he returns to loudly…violently. But eventually, Josh—the quintessential writer—sits at his desk, surrounded by stacks of manuscripts and reference books, hair scratched up into a swirl, barefoot and pajama pants, muttering to no one as a narrative magically appears across the glowing screen in front of him. Is he still Josh the Writer? Is it any wonder writers are given a wide berth?

This is all by way of me clarifying that “to write” is what makes a “writer.” To form the words, with brush stroke and pigment, or pressing a stick into clay, or with sweeping flourishes in ink, the crushing pressure to strike each letter on a typewriter, the mental discipline to pull words into existence—in order—this is writing. A writer must physically form each word.

And by contrast, if Josh did not build every word from standardized letters and build prose from common language, he is not a writer. If he claims this mantle from the work of others, Josh is lying. It is just that simple. The act of creating from the building blocks of language is the only instance where Josh may honestly call himself a writer. Full stop.

Which brings me to my point: if you edit someone else’s work, you are an editor. If you instruct someone else to write it for you, you are just another mid-level manager. If you steal someone else’s work and put your name on it, you are a thief…or major professor. And if you are grooming your AI to make a story for you, no matter how much you claim to “put in the effort,” you are a fraud.

Again, if you publish someone or something else’s work, you are a publisher, but, alas, still not a writer. That name belongs to those who fight through the process. The verb is the moniker. Earned. From inside your brain, born of your experiences, and the growth of your own soul. That is what we writers offer the world. Our soul. Honesty, integrity, sincerity. And the world knows the difference.

Funny, I started out to write an entirely different essay but got derailed by my husband telling me about a post on Reddit where someone was complaining about publishing a book and not getting any sales. I know, I know, that’s like 90% of posts to writers’ forums but when the old heads went to look at the “book”, it was obviously AI—like so many times before.

Even funnier, when I threw this essay into my AI editor for grammar and spelling, George lost his brief (yes, I said brief. He did not lose his briefs but he did flag this line when checking for typos), and rewrote my essay. While I’m admonishing him for doing something I hadn’t asked for and explaining how he isn’t helping when he slows me down to search through the text for where he made changes, he was simply proving my point. I bristle at anyone putting words in my mouth, or letters under my fingers, as it were, when many, many others don’t even see the problem in the first place. Another reason they are not writers.

As for actual writing, book #11, perhaps The Snitch in the Wash House, is emerging from the 1s and 0s of modern writing. The draft is nearly complete while at the same time, I’m laying out #12 in order to complete the entire series. So, it’s just like writing two books at once…or one double long. The image below is of my manager. He doesn’t call himself a writer but Grayson the Napper.