Gen Z writers not afraid of AI. We’re afraid of judgment. We’re afraid of being called “cheaters” or “lazy” or “not real writers” because we use modern tools in a modern world. So, let’s have an honest conversation — one that actually reflects what young writers are thinking, not what adults assume we’re thinking.
Let’s talk about what AI means not just for your writing but for your digital identity, your reputation, and your social footprint. This is the part many writers forget, and it’s where careers accidentally go sideways. Because the truth is simple: You can use AI ethically and openly — or you can use it quietly and hope no one notices. One strengthens your reputation. The other puts it at risk.
Let us remember something comforting: for all its cleverness, AI does not understand language the way writers do. It does not feel rhythm, tension, or subtext. It does not pause over a sentence the way a human editor does, sensing that something “isn’t quite right” even when every rule appears satisfied.
If there’s one thing I’ve learned about writers, it’s that we worry — a lot — about what’s ‘allowed’. We worry about doing it right, being taken seriously, and being seen as ‘real writers’. And nothing stirs that pot more than AI.
There’s a particular kind of tension that settles into a room when someone brings up AI. You can feel the fear. Yet here’s the reality check: People aren’t actually terrified of AI. They’re terrified of what it represents.
Saying “AI isn’t real writing” is like saying an architect isn’t real because they didn’t build the house. Or a designer isn’t real because they didn’t sew every hem. Or a director isn’t real because they didn’t operate every camera. Or a songwriter isn’t real because they didn’t play every instrument.
You don’t have to use AI. You’re not obligated to like it. But if you shame writers for using tools that make their creative lives easier — you’re not protecting the craft. You’re gatekeeping it.
Let’s be real, freelancers don’t get the liberty of sick days. We get deadlines, invoices, and the fine art of looking composed while quietly panicking. So, when I heard writers whispering, “What if AI takes our jobs?” I wanted to say: “Mate, AI isn’t taking your job. Burnout, overwork and pretending you’re a machine is.”
If you’ve dipped your toe into the indie-author scene you’ve probably heard questions like: “Will Amazon pull my book if the cover is made with AI?”, “Will IngramSpark reject my files?” and “If AI can’t be copyrighted, can a competitor steal my cover?” These are fair questions — and the answers aren’t as simple as “yes” or “no.”
AI is a tool that was supposed to make writing easier yet somehow made that small whisper of “Am I really a writer?” louder. Not because AI is dangerous or because ‘it can steal your story’. But because it taps directly into one of the tenderest parts of the writing heart: The fear that we are not enough.
