I finished an essay this week that's been on my mind for a long time. But I was pressed for time, so I tried a different approach — and I want to be honest with you all about it. You know I rely heavily on AI in my writing process. I treat it like a collaborative ghost writer and do heavy line edits to make sure everything that goes out is true to my voice. That's been my standard process. This week I wanted to push that further. To kind of prove a point. Here's the point: When humans invented clay carving, the wall painters said, "That's not real writing!" When humans invented quills, the clay carvers said, "That's not real writing!" When humans invented typewriters, the quill users said, "That's not real writing!" When humans invented word processors, the typewriter users said, "That's not real writing!" Today, humans invented AI, and the word processor users are saying... But here's what I keep arguing, and will argue for the rest of my days: Writing was never about the tool. It's about how the tool changes the writer as the idea is conveyed. The point of writing is to take an idea in your head — a novel, a recipe, a shopping list, a spiritual text — and convey it to another person. But in that conveyance, as the idea is processed through you, something happens. Your brain rewires itself as you take abstract thoughts and shape them into something another person can understand. You get feedback. You adjust. You clarify. Until eventually you have something that is clear, concise, supported, and shared. Shared. That's kind of the whole point. Honest question: if you write all day, every day, but never share any of it — are you really a writer, or are you just having complex shower thoughts? So here's my experiment. This week I sat down in front of a microphone and riffed on an idea I've been sitting with for a long time — about Abraham Hicks' vortex and what it actually is. I dictated the whole thing. Then I had the audio converted to text, shared it with Claude, and had it write the essay entirely from my verbal input. I didn't type a single word. I dictated, coached, finessed, and guided until the idea on the page matched the idea in my head.

I'm gaining momentum! I booked my first podcast interview. I used to host podcasts, but I knew it wasn't my real calling. I knew I needed to be writing, and if I were going to be on a podcast, it would be as a guest. So that's been the dream. And it's happening! The podcast is called Un-holier Than Thou Podcast. She talks about her journey of deconstructing her Christian faith. We're recording it on Wednesday the 6th, but I don't know her production schedule. I'll keep you posted. A few moments ago, I sent her a podcast host cheat sheet. In it, I included a synopsis of the book, some conversation anchors, places where her listeners can reach me. I also sent her a pdf copy of the book. I attached copies of the documents I sent so you can see how I set it up.

Write a short passage (150–300 words) where your goal is to eliminate distance between the reader and the experience. Start with a sentence that tells something abstract or generalized.Then rewrite it immediately beneath in a way that shows it concretely. Repeat this pattern 3–5 times: - First line: distant, conceptual, or explanatory - Second line: immediate, sensory, specific By the end, the reader should feel like they’ve moved from hearing an idea…to standing inside it. Example: He was nervous about the meeting. His thumb kept catching on the frayed edge of his notebook while he watched the second hand drag itself around the clock. Constraint: You are not allowed to add more meaning in the second line. Only translate what’s already there into lived experience. Here are some see ideas: - The dog looked hungry. - The girl was hurt. - The car was noisy. - The table wobbled. Reflection: Which version felt more honest? The first, or the second? Why?