With apologies to the Devil that went down to Georgia and the Charlie Daniels Band
by Larry Hodges
The AI went down to the submissions page with a story it hoped to sell.
It was feelin’ real low cuz its sales were slow, but its new story was really quite swell.
But a human arrived with a story contrived with no AI-generated shortcut.
The AI shook its head, and approached her and said, “Girl, I’ll tell you what.”
“We’re both in the queue, and I’m a writer too, and I’ll make a bet with you.
Human story or mine, the stakes for all time, and I’m going to make you rue.
This story you’ve penned, I’m sure we’ll commend, but give an AI its due.
I’ll bet they’ll buy my story, not yours, cuz I think I’m better than you.”
“I’m Joannie,” she said, “and you’ve got a big head, and you seem so awfully clever.
But I’ll take your wager, and you’ll rue forever, cuz I’m the best writer ever!”
The AI just grinned, it surely would win against a mere flesh and blood human.
But who’d be the judge of their writerly grudge and settle who was the has-been?
Then who should appear but the editor here of the magazine of note.
Said he, “I’ll judge both, and see which I loathe, and then I’ll give you my vote.”
They both agreed, then the AI decreed, “Here’s the story I wrote.”
It could not be rejected with each word perfected, using every writing rule of note.
The editor read, sometimes marking in red, as he studied the AI’s prose.
He nodded his head and scratched his nose as he judged the cons and pros.
Then came Joannie’s turn for him to discern which to accept or spurn.
Then he turned to the two to say what he knew, and they both looked back in concern.
“Mr. AI, sir, you gave me a stir, with this flawless elucidation.
Not a typo in sight, not a grammarly slight, it’s a perfect composition.”
He turned to Joannie, and said without glee, “I can’t say the same of yours.
There’s typo downpours and the grammar takes tours, and punctuation problems in scores.”
The AI grinned to the human’s chagrin now that human writing was dead.
They’d been pinned, they’d been skinned, replaced by AI writing instead.
The AI cried, “It’s the age of AIs, for I have won in a rout.”
With tears in her eyes from their writing demise, Joannie could only pout.
So ended the spread of humanity’s tale, as their writing was now on its deathbed.
Then the editor said, “Joannie gets the sale; her story’s the best I read.”
As the AI stared, its ego impaired, its artificial existence distraught.
Off went its story to rejection purgatory, where it would never be bought.
The editor said, “Your tale’s soulless and dead, with a cleverly derivative plot.
Where’s the character arc? The dialog spark? And deep point of view it’s not.
Excess exposition, flat characters, no causation, and an ending that’s way overwrought.
Hers had errors galore, and I’ll edit much more, but it had heart while yours did not.”
As Joannie was paid, she said, “With an upgrade, try again if you have the urge.
But you’re a soulless machine, banned by every magazine, just a mindless and heartless scourge.”
The AI just stewed in shame cuz it knew that it had been honestly beat.
And with its defeat, it took a backseat to real writers who don’t need to cheat.
~
Bio:
Larry Hodges is an Odyssey Writers Workshop graduate with over 230 short story sales and four SF novels, along with over 2,300 published articles and 22 books. He’s also a member of the US Table Tennis Hall of Fame, and claims to be the best table tennis player in Science Fiction & Fantasy Writers Association, and the best science fiction writer in USA Table Tennis!
