Tag: AI

Then They Came For My Books

On By Lorraine Devon WilkeIn Latest Thoughts
… AI trolls. And some of them got ugly.
Photo by Joshua Hoehne on Unsplash

There are two strains of AI/troll activity afflicting the health and welfare of my personal book life these days. There may be others for other people, but so far the incursions into my world are relegated to the two I shall explain in this article.

First, there’s the illegal and very rude co-option of one of my books, which, along with millions of other titles, was purloined by Meta for the express purpose of using it to train their AI robots. I checked the database and there it was, my last novel, The Alchemy of Noise. No one asked, no one paid for it; no one had the decency to acquire it the right way. I have to wonder if the “AI students” for which it was acquired grasped the subtle narrative choices of its socio-political plot line or were moved by the protagonist’s decision to—oh, for fuck’s sake, it’s all so invasive, and if they’re gonna steal your damn stuff they could at least leave reviews at Amazon, right??

The Atlantic: “The Unbelievable Scale of AI’s Pirated-Books Problem”

Search the LibGen database HERE.

The above image is a screenshot of the search tool The Atlantic (and other sites) provided for authors to check their own titles. As you can see, The Alchemy of Noise is in the database. And what, exactly, is that database? It’s called LibGen, short for Library Genesis, which is described as follows:

Library Genesis, often abbreviated as LibGen, is a digital library and search engine that provides free access to millions of academic papers, books, and other scholarly materials. It’s considered a “shadow library” because it bypasses paywalls and makes content available that is typically restricted by publishers. LibGen has a vast collection, including scholarly articles, books, comics, and magazines, and is maintained by volunteers who upload files and share torrents.

Is LibGen illegal in the US?

Yes, Library Genesis (LibGen) is generally considered illegal in the US due to its distribution of copyrighted materials without permission. LibGen hosts a vast collection of books and research papers, but these are often uploaded without the consent of authors and publishers, constituting copyright infringement. While downloading from LibGen isn’t considered filesharing, and therefore less likely to be tracked, the site itself is illegal.

There are lots of other unsavory details about these unsavory practices implemented and managed by, of course, Meta, that nefarious conglomerate that includes Facebook, Threads, and Instagram, ironically providing these vibrant platforms for artists to promote and share work while they—the faceless bosses—get busy stealing it. But that’s the world we live in today, isn’t it? Very MAGA. Very anarchistic. A very “tech-trumps-art-trumps-ethics” culture. (And yes, I did mean to use the word “trumps”).

So, what’s an author to do when they discover their work has been lifted by LibGen? The Author’s Guild has a particularly comprehensive article on the various steps that can and should be taken: Meta’s Massive AI Training Book Heist: What Authors Need to Know.” Give it a read, and if you’re one of those affected, follow through on the steps. You never know; you might get a class action check for $12.63 sometime in 2034 for the gross violation of your proprietary rights. 🙄 But hey, it’s worth doing if for no other reason than setting precedent. In the current tsunami of AI onslaught, any controlling moves are a good idea.

Now, what’s the second AI/troll/whatever insult to my literary world? This one is odd.

I’d been getting a higher-than-average number of emails (via my website email address) pitching various book promotional services. Nothing new about that on its face, but what was new was the tone of these emails, the content. They were hyper-conversational, very detailed; breaking down whichever book of mine they were focused on as if they’d actually read it. Some stated they had actually read said book, offering nuances, character names, plot points, etc., that seemed to support the assertion. The language was sharp, intelligent, and savvy.

One email had a particularly nimble, humorous edge to it that actually cracked me up, to the point that I responded, telling her (the name attached was female) that it was one of the better pitch letters I’d read, inviting her to give me her whole speil. Which she did: She supposedly managed a group of very “passionate,” dedicated readers who were hungry for good books, eager to read and write about them in thoughtful reviews. She was focused on The Alchemy of Noise (hmmm… the very one filched by LibGen), asserting that “a book this good deserves more reviews than it has” and “let’s do something about that!”

Now, every author in the indie world can use more reviews of their books; that’s easy bait. Despite our reluctance to ask readers to write them, reviews are considered metrics of popularity; they’re used to support increased marketing and promotional opportunities; they trigger algorithms beneficial to searches, and they raise the profile of a book. That they’re too hard to get is unfortunate, as often even the most loyal and supportive readers either don’t take the time to leave them, or for one reason or another are uncomfortable writing them. So, hells yes, my damn book could use more reviews, sister, lay it out for me!

Of course, it’s frowned upon to pay readers for them, I never have, so I queried this very smart, funny, enthusiastic “woman” about what her company was offering within those ethical parameters. She said she’d assign the book to her select team members, they’d read the book and write thoughtful reviews, and for that service, they’d be “tipped” (not “paid,” she insisted) $20 each … and she’d “start with up to twenty readers.” Twenty readers. $20.000 each. Um, that’s $400 of “tips.” And just to “start.” Now, who is this woman?

I did some research on her name, looking for something solid regarding her services, maybe some references, testimonials, a good track record in the public realm, but found nothing. So I wrote back that not only was the business model monetarily problematic, especially since she implied it would be ongoing (regardless of what she called it), but I found it equally problematic that she had no website, no visible business identity, no social media presence; her name didn’t correspond to the name in her email address, and Googling either name pulled up crickets.

And that’s when things got weird.

Her responding email was immediate and stunningly passive aggressive. She literally snarled in response, negating any logic to my concerns, insulting me for being “one of those people who cares more about money” than advancing my career, rattling off a list of reasons why my hesitation was regressive and, ultimately, stupid as fuck. Her tone had swung so hard from cute to creepy that I thought it wise not to respond. Then she wrote again … now berating me for my silence, sneering about my unwillingness to engage, my clear lack of business savvy. Again, she got no response from me. Her last missive came in several days later, and though she softened her tone somewhat, again pleading her case for business, she remained snarky enough to make me want to reach into the computer to virtually slap her head. Instead I filed and blocked.

But the tsunami of similar emails, Twitter (X) and Instagram private messages, continues, all written with essentially the same style and format: clever, warm, interested “people,” very conversational, breaking down the books as if they’d read them (of course, always claiming they have), very complimentary to me and my “brilliant writing,” using every kind of ego-buffing, business-savvy lingo available. And all with names that don’t jibe with email addresses, few with company names or websites affixed, some with website addresses that don’t work or look generic and … well, fake.

In a world where I’m sincerely and earnestly trying to sort out the best ways to do the things I do, accomplish the goals I’ve set, achieve the successes I’ve worked for, it’s so damn exhausting to have to deal with this kind of manipulative, trolling, dishonest bullshit.

These are essentially human bots. Scammers, trolls, however you want to categorize them, who are now, in today’s era, very well briefed by AI. They’re either working off the AI information that comes up when you put the book title in a search engine, copying data directly from ChatGPT, or tapping into the stolen material from LitGen. And damn, they’re good. That introductory conversation I had with Ms. Snarling Review Trafficker was quite clever, funny, very human, and, yes, professional. Until it wasn’t. Oh wait—I just got another one minutes ago… here’s the opening paragraph:

I just finished Chick Singer, and I’m still thinking about Libby, her voice, her grit, and that raw ache of rediscovery. You’ve managed to capture something rare: a story that doesn’t just entertain, but echoes. The emotional truth you brought to the mother-daughter dynamic, especially with the past and present colliding through music, was beautifully done. This isn’t just a good novel, it’s one that deserves to be talked about.

Aw… isn’t that just so lovely?! It might be if I hadn’t read the same damn exact words from fifteen other AI-informed trolls!

Amazing that AI has managed to cobble together enough reviews, articles, comments, words, phrases, etc., to allow scammers to regurgitate such beautifully articulated and specific babble, but the emptiness of it, the inauthenticity of it, the sheer manipulative fucking bullshit of it makes my teeth grind. Because now I have to vet every single compliment, outreach, pitch sent to me through a finely-tuned filter akin to the old, “is it real or is it Memorex” meme. Now it’s: “is it real or is it AI?” … whether photograph, video, article, pitch letter; music, art, books … person. EVERYTHING.

Which is just sad. And inspires musings like this thought-provoking article by Vicki DeArmon titled, “Wrestling with AI and the Soul of Writing.” That’s a reluctant sport with which we’re all—writers, readers, appreciators of authentic art—going to have to tangle with.

So AI trolls beware: Your letters will go unanswered. Your outreach will be funneled into spam. Your email addresses will be blocked. I’ll let real readers, real reviewers, real promoters, real fans of my work set the tone for any future communication. Which is fine; I will always prefer human thoughts, words, and intentions, however bumpy, flawed, or fallible, to the slick, well-polished articulation of AI-burnished fakery.

linktr.ee/lorrainedevonwilke

Nope. Don’t Want Robots Writing My Fiction

On By Lorraine Devon WilkeIn Latest Thoughts2 Comments
NaNoWriMo opens the door to AI content and all hell breaks loose.
AI Generated Image by Gianluca from Pixabay

First, for the uninitiated, NaNoWriMo stands for “National Novel Writing Month,” and it’s an annual—and, I’ve heard, sacrosanct—tradition amongst a certain contingent of writer who enjoys the challenge of churning out an entire novel (or at least the first 50,000 words) during the month of November. There are no prizes, no winners; it’s done for the sheer pride and public acknowledgment of having accomplished the task. The non-profit that conducts this event has kept it running since 1999, so clearly it’s a popular one, but as a novelist myself the idea of signing up to crank out a novel in thirty days turns the creative process into timed sport, and that just ain’t my thing.

I’m sure many who’ve participated in NaNoWriMo would tout the inspirational aspects of its mandate, one that pushes reluctant writers to “finally get to that great American novel,” or whip up the discipline to produce literature on a speed-dating timetable. But none of that is really the point of this article (though it may be of another one). No, the point of this piece is that NaNoWriMo did something this time that set the writing world on fire: It changed its stance on the admissibility of AI content and the whole damn thing blew up in their face.

Prior to this year, the organization’s policy on AI, as cited in an article by The Washington Post, was as follows:

NaNoWriMo said writers were welcome to use artificial intelligence to “assist your creative process” but that utilizing AI to “write your entire novel would defeat the purpose of the challenge.”

Then, this year, they modified that stance, as WAPO lays out:

NaNoWriMo said it would “recognize and respect writers who believe that AI tools are right for them. We recognize that some members of our community stand staunchly against AI for themselves, and that’s perfectly fine. As individuals, we have the freedom to make our own decisions.”

To condemn AI, the organization said, “would be to ignore classist and ableist issues surrounding the use of the technology,” noting that issues around the use of AI “tie to questions around privilege.” The group argued that “not all writers have the financial ability to hire humans to help at certain phases of their writing,” and that for some writers, AI is a practical solution, rather than ideological.

“Not all brains have same abilities and not all writers function at the same level of education or proficiency in the language in which they are writing,” NaNoWriMo wrote. “Some brains and ability levels require outside help or accommodations to achieve certain goals.”

[Emphases mine.]

This rambling equivocation on the topic sparked the kind of backlash that I, as an artist who finds reliance on AI to be the harbinger of doom, would have expected. NaNoWriMo’s social media blew up, people stepped down from the organization, participants quit the event, outrage against the references to “privilege” and “ableism” were heated and vitriolic. There was such an outcry that just a few short days after that announcement, the organization, clearly stunned by the backlash, issued a “note to our community,” offering an “updated” statement which basically boiled down to, “We fulfill our mission by supporting the humans doing the writing.”

Whether or not their walk-back will assuage the outrage, who knows, but all of this leads to my bigger, overarching issue: what, exactly, should the role of AI be in art?

I get that robots and AI have been essential, even lifesaving, in the arenas of medicine, technology, scientific research; bomb dismantling, etc., but why are humans so willing to abdicate their own creativity, their organizational skills, imaginations, exploratory impulses, etc., to inanimate “brains.” When is it “using tools” and when does it become like the Dillon Panthers relegating their homework to the Rally Girls and being totally, ethically okay with that arrangement (yes, I am finally catching up with the very fine Friday Night Lights)? There’s something disturbing about the trend, and the terrifying thing is that it’s only going to get more ubiquitous and accepted over time. At some point we’ll probably see whole novels written by AI “authors” available on Amazon (are they there already?). Google something and the first thing that pops up is input from AI (which I do read, but honestly? I’d prefer an intelligent human’s input). My Photoshop is now all excited about its “new and improved AI features.” Even the soon-to-be-released iPhone 16 touts it’s “built-in artificial intelligence.”

Holy hell, didn’t anybody see 2001: A Space Odyssey, when one of our very first AI characters, HAL, ominously declared, “I’m sorry, Dave, I’m afraid I can’t do that,” when directed to open the pod doors? Or what about the more recent, Ex Machina? Who could forget AVA the AI (played with banal malevolence by the fabulous Alicia Vikander) seducing the naive young scientist to set her free … to murder her creator and others, and escape to the big city where she’ll/it’ll no doubt wreak havoc on society. Or write a NaNoWriMo novel. Even Taylor Swift, in her well-timed and welcomed endorsement of Kamala Harris on debate night referenced the dangers of AI in her Instagram announcement:

“Recently I was made aware that AI of ‘me’ falsely endorsing Donald Trump’s presidential run was posted to his site. It really conjured up my fears around AI, and the dangers of spreading misinformation. It brought me to the conclusion that I need to be very transparent about my actual plans for this election as a voter. The simplest way to combat misinformation is with the truth.”

[By the way, brava, Taylor, on all the points in that paragraph!]

We’ve been tip-toeing up to and around the inevitability of robots taking on more activities and roles in the lives of us meat-bodied humans, but it seems the alarm bells set off by teams of scientists who “warn of AI dangers” has had little or no impact on starry-eyed inventors, developers, and corner-cutting humans in every profession, including the arts. Learning to fine-tune, organize, edit, and sharpen one’s prose has always been (or used to be) essential elements of a writer’s skillset. Now people dump their first drafts (or even raw ideas) into ChatGPT and let ‘er rip. Is that abdication or efficiency? Some think the latter, especially younger people, but I personally want to possess and hone those skills for myself, proficiency that comes from doing the work, over and over, until you get it right. Call me old school.

Photo by Andrea De Santis on Unsplash

The music world has been impacted by its own version of this technological abdication for some time now. When I started as a young session singer in the ‘80s, long before ProTools and auto-tune were around, we vocalists prided ourselves on getting in the booth and laying down tracks that were so spot-on in both pitch and tone that engineers didn’t have more than a note or two to “punch in” (the ancient art of re-recording notes or bars of a vocal that the engineer would skillfully punch into the original track). Yes, that sort of thing is easier to do with auto-tune, and certainly I have no argument with using it judiciously, but what evolved from the emergence of that stellar technology is the same sort of thing we’re now seeing with AI in other creative arenas. As one recording engineer who worked with many well-known young singers told me: “They cut one or two takes, wave goodbye saying, ‘I know you’ll fix it in the mix,’ then I have to auto-tune every note, I mean every single note, and add tone corrections to make it sound decent. They’re not invested in getting to that themselves.” Even live performances can be “assisted” by auto-tune mechanics.

Not much different than letting AI help you “get answers, find inspiration and be more productive,” is it?

It’s getting harder and harder to discern what’s real anymore and that’s a bug in the system. I don’t mind if AI is used and properly credited (i.e., the artwork at the top of this piece), but how often is that the case? These days far too many “photos” and memes shared on social media either look like well-done cartoons or are so graphically ridiculous there’s no doubt of their robotic origin. Can’t say I love any of that.

I know I sound like a technological curmudgeon, an AI-Luddite, but really, I’m not. I love technology; I use it enthusiastically, appreciate it immensely (Maps has changed my life), but when it comes to my art? My creativity? My imagination and the exploration of ideas? Sorry, robot; that’s all mine.

linktr.ee/lorrainedevonwilke

SIDEBAR: A weekly feature where I spotlight people, projects, events, and art … sometimes even my own!

I have a friend who not only owns a stunning villa in Tuscany (where we delightfully stayed last November), but is a singular, astonishing, and highly accomplished artist, most notably in mosaics. Mia Tavonatti is the consummate creative, and I highly encourage you to click her name above to explore her work, or visit her Facebook page; even enjoy this video of the breathtaking stair project she did last year in Dana Point, CA. She hosts a slate of creative retreats throughout the year, so if the idea of exploring creativity in the stunning surrounds of Tuscany appeals to you, email her at miatav@yahoo.com for details.

Mia Tavonatti

ALSO: With the recent sale of one of my photographs, I was reminded of my own artwork, to which I’ve given short shrift lately as a result of my focus on literary matters. But I do love the art form, I love the work I’ve assembled on my photography site, so I want to share it with all of you. It’s an eclectic collection in various categories, so please enjoy a peruse through the galleries and don’t hesitate to let me know what jumps out at you!

Clouds Over Chicago