Don’t Count On It!

Enough about Artificial Intelligence already. I promised myself I wouldn’t write about AI again. Then a friend shared a recent experience. She planned to drive her granddaughter from Denver, Colorado to Buffalo, New York and wanted to take in some of the sights along the way. After learning about ChatGPT at the local library, she asked for a route and roadside attractions along I-80. ChatGPT obliged with stops to “provide a mix of natural beauty, historical sites, and cultural experiences, making your journey along I-80 from Denver to Buffalo diverse and enjoyable.” Sounds wonderful, right?

Don’t get me wrong. I think the Bonneville Salt Flats, Salt Lake City’s Temple Square, Wyoming Territorial Prison, and the California Trail Interpretive Center in Elko, Nevada are fascinating and educational. The only problem: all these sights would require a 1,000 mile detour! My favorite attraction was the world’s largest Cheeto in Algona, Iowa, which was a mere four hour excursion off I-80. Other attractions didn’t exist, such as the world’s largest fork in Iowa. On the bright side, ChatGPT didn’t route my friend through Outer Mongolia.

AI developers acknowledge that the software will hallucinate—produce incorrect or fabricated information. So why do these hallucinations matter to us as writers? “Real facts” are important when writing our book. While it seems obvious that non-fiction must be as accurate as possible, fiction readers crave more than only entertainment. They want to come away from our books learning about an era, a career, a technology, or a culture they weren’t familiar with. Fans of police procedural or historical novels are quick to point out that a certain type of pistol only has six, not nine, rounds or buttonholes weren’t widely used prior to the Renaissance.

My friend isn’t alone in getting bad advice from ChatGPT. Ask the lawyers who were sanctioned for submitting AI generated briefs citing nonexistent cases. Or the scientific journal that issued a retraction for an article filled with nonsense illustrations.

My advice: if you use AI, don’t count on the results without independent verification. That’s the safer route my friend took.

Whose Words Are These?

Does the rise of artificial intelligence make you want to scream, “AI, caramba!”? *

While there’s speculation that AI may cost some people their jobs, writers worry that AI will lead to rampant plagiarism. All of which reminds me of a time in the pre-digital era when an entire work of mine was plagiarized by a living, breathing human being. It happened in a manner so blatant, it was almost comical.

Fair Use

20th Century Fox Corp.

I was the editor of a national tennis magazine (my first full-time job in publishing). One day, a freelancer who was looking for an assignment stopped by my office to drop off some samples of his past articles.

We had a brief chat about his experience, which seemed fairly extensive, and we planned to talk more after I’d read his work.

Later that day, I looked through the material he’d left and noticed that one item was an interview he’d conducted with the manager of Jimmy Connors, who was a world-class champion at the time.

I had interviewed the same man some months before. So out of curiosity, I chose the freelancer’s interview with him to read first. Its format was a simple Q. & A.

I read the first question and the manager’s response. I read the next question and answer. It wasn’t until the third Q. & A. that something began to feel familiar.

I went to my back files, found the issue I was looking for, and flipped to the page with my interview on it. Everything was identical, down to the last comma and period, except for the photos and the freelancer’s name instead of mine in the byline.

At first, I was amazed at the audacity. It occurred to me that the thief might have stolen so many works from other writers that he never bothered to keep track of whose article he was submitting to whom.

The pilfered interview.

And then I got mad.

The magazine with the pilfered interview was based in Australia, a big tennis mecca back then, with its own national stars like Laver and Goolagong. I sat down and wrote to the publisher, informing them that they had published a stolen article. I included a copy of my original piece, along with my suspicion that there may be more of the same from that individual.

Two days later, the plagiarizer showed up again and asked me what I thought of his work. I let my fury fly while he sat there stone-faced. After I was through, this is what he said: “So, you won’t be hiring me?”

I kid you not.

I never heard from his publisher, and I never saw or heard from the pilferer again. But I’ll always think of him as a lazy, cheating son-of-a-gun, like a grownup and ever-unrepentant Bart Simpson.

Gay Yellen is the award-winning author of the Samantha Newman Mystery Series, including The Body Business, The Body Next Door, and the upcoming Body in the News.

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*a nod to Bart Simpson, The Simpsons, Twentieth Century Fox Corp. Free use.