I don't care about him...

Felon47 is talking in Congress. I refuse to watch. The obscenity that inhabits the White House will lie, brag, blame others for his mistakes, and take credit for things that he had nothing to do with. I have too much respect for my blood pressure to even try to tolerate his filth. He's the first person I've ever actively wished would die, and I'm rooting for McDonald's to be the cause.

So instead, I found the ending to The Beast Dines Out and now just need to add a coda to finalize it. The total story is close to 100K in wordage. Jesus, sometimes I just can't shut up.

Next comes the beginning of Darian's Point, a three part novel set, first, in ancient Ireland, then in 1910, then in modern day. I have it outlined, structurally. Something I never do.

My preferred method of writing is to jump in and let the characters lead me through the story. But this one needs details and actions that I need to make certain wind up in it. If I'm writing along, I can't be sure I'd remember some aspects to add and once it's done, I hate going back to break the pace and/or rhythm that it's developed.

Now there's no law that says I have to be slavish to the outline. It's mainly there to give me a foundation upon which to begin building. An initial blueprint. It'll be interesting to see how much I deviate from it.

A friend of mine in London has used Artificial Intelligence to work up a couple of short stories and sent them to me for comment. He inputs an idea and follows it up with prompts...and somehow it comes together.

What came out doesn't read like his usual writing. It's much smoother and the grammar is close to perfect. It's not bad. But there's none of the quirkiness he's got, and it has a fair amount of repetition. Readable. Acceptable. But forgettable, because there is nothing raw in it. It's just plain too polished.

The purest creator in me despises AI but the realist recognizes it's here and will be from now on. Dammit.