Let me start by saying this: I’m not a techie. I don’t code. I still get anxious clicking the ‘post’ button on my socials. So when AI started creeping into creative conversations back in 2022, my first instinct was to put my head in the sand and pray it wouldn’t catch on.
But it did. And curiosity has a way of ambushing you.
This blog is a chronicle of what happens when a copywriter (hi) who already feels like she’s behind the digital curve decides to dive headfirst into the world of AI, armed with nothing but YouTube, a sense of humour and an unreasonable number of browser tabs. It’s not about sharing sage wisdom; it’s about revealing failure, the ego-checks of being a beginner again, the thrill of my small wins and the joy of being able to do something I never thought possible.
Why are creatives so nervous about AI?
Because we’re emotionally attached to our ideas, and AI feels like it’s trespassing.
There’s a quiet (sometimes not-so-quiet) anxiety in the creative industry that AI will replace originality with soulless automation. The internet keeps shouting at us that AI is coming for our jobs, and it’s not helped by big corporates who are downsizing their workforce as they outsource to AI. I’m not denying that it’s a bit scary out there.
But here’s the kicker: AI still needs us. Our taste, our judgement, our weirdly irrational brains. And while I’m constantly fighting the fear of being left behind, I’ve realised that AI isn’t a replacement of creatives; it’s an enhancement. I feel like I have unlocked a new level of creativity that I never dared to indulge. And that’s pretty freaking exciting.
Monkey with a keyboard
Let’s just say my first attempts at using AI were… humbling.
I wasn’t sure where to start. ChatGPT was the enthusiastic new friend I tried to keep at arm’s length. Midjourney literally used a different language. Seriously, Midjourney. Why? I had moments where I felt like the I was trying to run iOS 18 on my 1995 PC. And everyone kept making it look so easy!
But slowly, painfully and with the occasional accidental breakthrough (or mental breakdown), I started to get it. And when the chatbot I was building worked, or the image actually looked half decent, I felt a small thrill. I felt like anything was possible, and ideas started to flow.
On focus, fear and the temptation to quit
Here’s something no one tells you when you start learning about AI: there’s too much. Too many tools. Too many updates. Too many rabbit holes. You start by Googling “how to write a prompt” and 43 tabs later you’re in a Discord group watching a guy generate jazz album covers with Stable Diffusion.
It’s overwhelming. And if you’re a perfectionist (hi again), it’s easy to feel like you’ll never be good at this. I restarted my short film after six months because I didn’t think it was good enough. I have tried six different ways to build my app. I wrote the original version of this post in February and just didn’t post it.
But with AI, as with anything really, persistence matters more than genius. When you wasted an entire day trying to create just one image, or updated a line of code that somehow deleted everything, it’s all about sitting back down, cracking the old knuckles and giving it another go.
Biting off more than I could chew
I started off like a squirrel in the Food Lovers’ nut dispensary. Frantic, excited, stuffing as much into my poor brain as possible.
- Courses: I’ve taken everything from Udemy intro guides to Vanderbilt University’s Coursera series on AI productivity (some of it great, some of it… sleepy).
- Tools: ChatGPT (clearly), Midjourney, Runway ML, Elevenlabs, Suno, Sora and a few others I can’t remember because I broke my brain trying to log into everything at once.
- Projects: World building with ChatGPT, animation of said world, app development, vibe coding, building a chatbot.
It’s been a lot. Some of it a success, some of it a screaming disaster. But I still have so many ideas and I’m not willing to discard any of them until I’ve given them a shot. If that means waiting for GPT 7, then so be it.
Still figuring it out (and that’s okay)
I’m not exactly striding into this like I know what I’m doing. It’s more of a curious stumble with equal parts excitement, imposter syndrome and the occasional meltdown when ChatGPT forgets what I’ve spent the last month teaching it.
Will I finish my short film? Will I be able to rebuild my chatbot? Are chatbots still a thing? Honestly, I don’t know. But maybe that’s the point. We bring all our overthinking, our original ideas and our lived experience into these new spaces, and that’s what makes the learning feel real.
If any of this resonates, or if you’re on your own wobbly AI journey, I’d love to hear from you. What parts of AI feel exciting, intimidating or just plain weird? And if you’re an AI boffin, I’m all ears for suggestions (and moral support).
Thanks for reading this far. If you’re still here, I hope you’ll stick around for the next one.
Coming up:
My deep-dive into Midjourney, and why I don’t use it.