Magic. It’s inside a story. Your story. Within you is the potential to create or destroy, heal or hurt. Your gift is your story. Your ability to share with others what you’ve learned, how you’ve been helped, or what’s hurt you so that they will pass that along to others.

There is nothing magnificent about my story. Nothing earth-shattering or earsplitting. I didn’t win a prestigious medal or award. I’m not a supermodel, although my fiance would beg to differ with you. I don’t have letters following my last name, nor do I want to. Well, maybe I don’t want that. (Get back to me later about that).

What I do have is an innate ability to capture and retell other people’s stories. Some of these are fictional characters who never lived anywhere but the pages where they are printed. Others are amalgamations of people I’ve met over many years, transforming them into characters living inside the pages of the books and blog posts I’ve spent hours and hours crafting.

Throughout my life, I’ve told and retold countless stories. Some are funny, and others tragic. But the one solidifying feature in all of them is the emotions. When you feel loved, you translate that emotion into how a person looks, stands, or says, “Ditto.” Anger is the same. If you are angry, you aren’t smiling unless you are a psychopath and plan to do something sinister. Happy? You will act like it, not just smile. Something living inside of you translates your emotions into a storefront window where it’s all on display, showing everyone in your world exactly how you feel.

In 1984 Generation X was introduced to the scariest thing imaginable: an artificial intelligence capable of acting very lifelike sans any emotion. That scary thing? The Terminator. This A.I. robot traveled back to 1984 to destroy the person who would turn the tide in the war against the machines, namely John Connor, the general of the freedom fighters. As a junior high kid, I loved the concept but couldn’t imagine when electronics would be sentient, thinking, and reasoning. One thing I agreed with my nerdy, geeky, science-fiction fantasy friends was a simple fact – computers would be incapable of feeling and, therefore, unable to react like a human being. Like it or not, without that emotional connection? Writing, poetry, and fiction all fall flat. It’s like expecting a stuffed crust pizza, thick and puffy, only to find a paper-thin gluten-free crust come out with all the toppings on it. Sure. It looks good. Probably tastes great. But it’s not what you expected. And like it or not, when you read something created by artificial intelligence? It feels broken, leaving you feeling disappointed and off.

Anti-A.I.? No, because I see intrinsic value in utilizing A.I. for anything requiring zero emotional input, like Math. Or scientific equations. A.I. is fantastic at resolving the most difficult programming errors. Is your problem logic-based? Let A.I. come up with a fast solution. Otherwise, let the storytellers, poets, and musicians write their own lyrics, sonnets, and fictional accounts. Programming the emotional input required to scratch the surface of a human experience would take more than a few thousand lifetimes. Why? Because no one has the exact same emotional response to death. No one has the same emotional reaction to someone teasing them in middle school. Not everyone will react negatively to a group of loved ones singing Happy Birthday. But some will. To capture all those experiences and reactions is what it will take for A.I. to come close to what the writers in our world capture for us.

Until the day when artificial intelligence feels the same emotions we do, we’ll have to take up the task and write the things it can’t.

What is your experience with artificial intelligence? Negative or positive? Do you believe that A.I. has the potential to draft creative, artful, meaningful texts, such as imaginative fiction, poetry, or music lyrics? Or is all A.I. data-driven, logical, and unemotional?