Those of us who make a living from writing, myself included, and some of you too, now live with this constant pressure: AI will replace you. I understand it. The hype is enormous. But working as a copywriter and translator, I realise that much of that hype is false. Yes, the job has become leaner for copywriters. But the level of writing? Uuummm... Writers are different. A novel carries heart and mind. It carries shades and subtleties that shape a particular author’s personality. Literature written by a human hand is alive. It is a body that sweats, bleeds, and trembles. AI writing is impressive, but it still lacks the colours and flavours that come from human experience, precisely because it cannot have human experience. And that is where I know that, however magnificent AI may become, it still lacks that quantum leap. We will be flooded with books written by AI. That is fine with me. I already struggled to find a truly good book written by a human being, so an AI book will not trouble me much, because for me, there are two things that make me read a book: the idea behind the story, and the style. I was watching some cinematic videos made with AI. Beautiful. Truly at film level. But they were missing exactly what real artists have: that original idea, written or shaped in a masterful, singular way (think about Star Wars, Marvel heroes or manga, for example). What do you think about AI? Does it scare you? Do you use it? Are you curious to try it?

"Why do some books keep us awake at night, while others quietly send us to sleep?" Part of the answer may lie in something called the Zeigarnik effect. It is a psychological principle that suggests we remember unfinished things more strongly than finished ones. What remains unresolved stays in the mind. What closes too neatly often disappears. For writers, this matters more than it may seem. A story becomes difficult to put down when it keeps a living thread of tension in the reader’s mind. Not cheap tricks. Not noise. But a real sense that something is still open, still moving, still waiting to happen. This can occur at different levels of a novel. It may be an event we know is coming. It may be a chapter that ends with a quiet unease instead of a full stop. It may be a detail, a fear, a secret, or an object that seems small at first but holds the promise of future meaning. In other words, readers keep turning pages not only because they want answers, but because the story has taught them to feel the weight of what is still unfinished. That is where suspense often begins. And perhaps that is one of the hidden arts of storytelling: knowing how to leave the right door open. Have you ever read a novel that kept pulling you forward in this way? What exactly made it impossible to leave? The video below explains the idea beautifully. Source via this LINK if you want to know more

This Skool community is growing, not so much in numbers, but in engagement, and that’s fantastic. As you can see, I’m making a few changes, some of them suggested by the community itself. Brilliant. So, we now have 4 boards. One can be used only by me, where I’ll write daily topics or updates like this one. One is called Introduce Yourself, where you can introduce yourself or share a piece of news you want to put out there. One is called Questions and Answers, if you’re looking for guidance, help, or advice. And one is the Writing Board, where you can share excerpts of what you’re writing or have already written. You can also share ideas for things you want to create or are planning to build. All of this, of course, with honesty and the utmost respect. If you have any questions about these 4 boards, I’ll reply here. 😄

• So, in this regard, I have one more question: what do you expect to find in a writing community like this? • What would you like to find?

For many people, the weekend is a time to rest. Not always for writers, and not always for freelancers like me. The weekend is often when the deeper reflections arrive. The days when we sit with ourselves and realise that, sooner or later, a decision must be made about the week ahead, about the work, about the life we are trying to build. One question stayed with me for months (in 2020): What am I going to do with this book I have written? That was my unrest for a long time with Echoes of Eurydice, my first novel written in English. Yes, I write in more than one language. It was 2020. I was tired, but I was also full of hope. For more than a year, I did not know what to do next, and literary agents kept rejecting the story. I understand why. Who wants to bet on something original these days? It feels risky. And my novel does not fit neatly into a single category, even if it is science fiction. Not the kind with spaceships, not Dune-like science fiction. A softer kind. A science fiction of parallel worlds, bent realities, and possible lives. At its heart, it asks a simple question: If you could meet again someone you have lost, what would you be willing to do? Would you cross into a parallel world just to see them one more time? That is why Eurydice. The name comes from the myth of Orpheus and Eurydice. So I am curious about you. Some of you may be writing your first novel. Some may already have written one, or several. What is your real goal with what you are writing, or what you have already written? Mine was clear: to find an English literary agent and move towards traditional publication. What about you?