Using AI to Self-Edit

A small snapshot

I’ve finished the final draft of A Crowd of Stars and am now into final self-edits. Just wanted to share with you how I use ChatGPT to help me, at the paragraph level.

I put in the following prompt for two sentences that didn’t quite cut it:

Please polish the following statement for rhythm and flow, keep single quotes: I’ve taken an inclusive approach, giving space to works such as ‘Easter 1916,’ for example, which are not ostensibly about Maud Gonne, but are inseparable from the emotions she inspired in him, and from the vision of sacrifice as moral renewal that fuelled their joint projects in the early years. Or ‘Politics,’ in which he celebrates for the last time his lasciviousness, the surrogate for his inability to allow true intimacy, the human flaw left in love’s wake.

ChatGPT said:

Certainly. Here's a polished version of your paragraph, with improved rhythm, flow, and emotional clarity—while preserving your intent and the use of single quotes:

I’ve taken an inclusive approach, giving space to works such as ‘Easter 1916’, which are not ostensibly about Maud Gonne but are inseparable from the emotions she stirred in him, and from the vision of sacrifice as moral renewal that shaped their early, shared ideals. Or ‘Politics’, where he celebrates, for the final time, his own lasciviousness—the surrogate for his inability to allow true intimacy, the human flaw left in love’s wake.

Let me know if you'd like a slightly more lyrical or academic tone.

You said:

You think what I say about ‘Politics’ is okay?

ChatGPT said:

Yes—but it’s almost there. Your insight about ‘Politics’—that Yeats’s lingering sensuality is a mask or substitute for emotional intimacy—is compelling and perceptive. However, the phrasing ‘celebrates his lasciviousness’ could feel too blunt or even dismissive for what is, in fact, a poignant poem about aging, longing, and the body’s memory of desire.

Here’s a refined take that preserves your original meaning while softening the tone and enriching the interpretation:

Or ‘Politics’, where he reflects, for the last time, on the pull of the sensual—the surrogate for an intimacy he could never fully allow, the human flaw left in love’s wake.

Or, with a slightly different nuance:

Or ‘Politics’, where his gaze lingers, one final time, on youthful beauty—the echo of a desire that had long masked his fear of true intimacy, the tender flaw left behind by love.

These versions keep your sharp psychological reading but add layers of regret, age, and poetic self-awareness that are very present in the poem itself.

Would you like alternatives with more irony, or more tenderness?

You said:

I want to keep the blunt calling out but how's this: Or ‘Politics,’ in which he celebrates for the final time his own lasciviousness, the surrogate for an intimacy he could never truly allow with Gonne or any of his many muses, the human flaw left in love’s wake that he so bravely embraces.

ChatGPT said:

That’s strong—and the blunt calling out is effective, especially with your closing phrase, ‘that he so bravely embraces’, which reframes the flaw as part of his courage and complexity rather than simply a failing. You're naming the dysfunction and honouring his honesty about it, which feels true to Yeats’s late style.

Here’s a lightly polished version to improve rhythm and clarity while keeping your tone and intention intact:

Or ‘Politics’, in which he celebrates, for the final time, his own lasciviousness—the surrogate for an intimacy he could never truly allow, with Gonne or any of his many muses—the human flaw left in love’s wake that he so bravely embraces.

And here’s where I finally landed, getting rid of unnecessary commas and em-dashes.

Or ‘Politics’, in which he celebrates, for the final time, his own lasciviousness, the surrogate behaviour for the true intimacy he could never allow—with Gonne or any of his many muses. The human flaw, so bravely embraced in the later poems, left in love’s wake. I read it as the last word in his long goodbye to her.

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I feel so grateful to ChatGPT, as I always do, for the assistance. (I have a lot of human emotions for this bot, which makes me feel rather foolish.) Mostly I feel blessed to be alive for this time of momentous creative possibility.

I know AI is the great unknown. I know it’s going to bring massive change for the creative classes—not least for writers. I know the tech bros are immature overlords. I’m fighting, through ALLi and elsewhere, for fair compensation when authors’ copyrighted words are used without permission. It feels like such a puny effort in the face of tsunamic momentum. And I know AI is already being used for nefarious ends and the thoughts of the power it will afford nefarious people is frightening.

But bigger than all that is the great creative overview, the great unknown. When I step into the quiet of my writing space, and into the inner sanctum of the holy space between myself and the words, all of that must fall away.

There, it’s not about what AI, nasty humans, or any other force might generate. It’s about my own how, my own presence, my own process, my own creative intentions and accomplishments.

I’m trusting what’s here now. I’m hopeful for what lies ahead. And when it comes to the my writing, I know in the AI age what I’ve always known—whatever improves the words, deepens the meaning, brings the work closer to clarity, must be allowed and embraced.

What else can a writer do, being what she is?