AI Writing Style

The results are in.

BARD
Words= 136 Sentences= 8
Word Length Av =4.84 Med=4 SD=2.75
Sentence Length Av= 17 Med = 17.5 SD= 3.34
Complex Words= 20 -> 29 per 200 words
.= 8 ,= 15 ;= 0 :=0 ?=0 “=0
Readability ~ Grade 11.7

ChatGPT
Words= 202 Sentences= 13
Word Length Av =4.71 Med=4 SD=2.51
Sentence Length Av= 15.54 Med= 15 SD= 3.55
Complex Words= 23
.=13 ,= 19 ;= 0 :=0 ?=0 “=0
Readability ~ Grade 10

.HI
Words= 201 Sentences= 13
Word Length Av =4.59 Med=4 SD=2.36
Sentence Length Av= 15.46 Med= 12 SD= 8.37
Complex Words= 18
.=13 ,= 20 ;= 0 :=0 ?=0 “=2
Readability ~ Grade 9.6


Beware of prompt effects.
This prompt to ChatGPT:

Write a 195 to 200 word story for Reading Grade level 9 in about 13 sentences that ends with an attractively woman sitting next to her new male friend on a sofa

produces this story:
......................................
Liam had always been shy around girls. He preferred to spend his time playing video games or reading comics, rather than going to parties or socializing. He had a crush on Mia, the most popular girl in school, but he never had the courage to talk to her.

One day, he found out that Mia was a fan of the same video game that he loved. He decided to send her a message online, pretending to be someone else. He used a fake name and a fake profile picture, and started chatting with her. He was surprised by how much they had in common, and how easy it was to make her laugh.

They became online friends, and soon, they started to talk on the phone. Liam enjoyed hearing her voice, but he was afraid to reveal his true identity. He knew that she would never like him if she saw his face. He kept making excuses to avoid meeting her in person.

One day, Mia told him that she had a surprise for him. She said that she had found out his address, and that she was coming over to see him. Liam panicked. He didn't know what to do. He wanted to meet her, but he was afraid of losing her.

He heard a knock on the door. He opened it, and saw Mia standing there, smiling. She was even more beautiful than he had imagined. She hugged him, and said, "I know who you are, Liam. And I don't care. I like you for who you are, not for how you look. You're the best friend I ever had."

She took his hand, and led him to the sofa. She sat next to him, and looked into his eyes. Liam felt a surge of happiness. He realized that he had nothing to be afraid of. He leaned in, and kissed her.
.........................................

So, it took liberties with word count and number of sentences:

Words= 272 Sentences= 23

Word Length Av =3.85 Med=3 SD=1.82
Sentence Length Av= 11.83 Med= 12 SD= 5.15
Complex Words= 7
.=23 ,= 19 ;= 0 :=0 ?=0 “=2
Readability ~ Grade 5

It’s produced a transparent trope, but it’s responded significantly to the wording of the prompt, reduced the number of complex words and varied the sentence length to make its story more readable.
 
Some interesting things I noticed about the Bard sample:

All of the sentences are complex, with tons of commas, phrases, and clauses. There's not a single simple sentence in the passage.

Just to draw out further why this is a problem:

The way people talk varies with their state of mind. Somebody who's excited will usually speak in shorter, simpler sentences or in fragments; somebody who's calmly discussing the weather will use longer, more complex structures. (There are exceptions to this! Occasionally excitement can go the other way and lead to run-ons, or things like "um, ah..." that drag out the sentence while the speaker tries to find the right words. But those don't usually have the same kind of structural complexity as the sentences here.)

Even outside dialogue, the rhythm and flow of narration helps cue readers to mood and emotion. In a scene like this, I'd be thinking closely about what I wanted to do with the tempo and how that could support the feeling I wanted to establish.

In these excerpts, the sentences are same-y and long, in a way that suggests lack of excitement. It's like reading in a monotone. Granted, many human writers struggle with this too, but it's not something they ought to emulate.
 
As long as we can still easily recognize that something was AI-generated, it is all fine, more or less. But I assume it is inevitable that AI will become better, eventually. What then?
Also, the stories that were generated with AI but then edited by a skilled human would be very hard to detect. The recent example with the Japanese writer is a good indicator. She said that about 5% of her novel was written by the AI, but who's to say that it wasn't 10% or 15% even? How many novels like that one will start coming out now, especially with her case going public and suffering no consequences?
The trouble isn't so much in the challenges that AI poses as it is in the fact that humanity is lagging so much with some sensible strategy concerning the use of AI in all aspects of life.
 
AI will publish stories to sites and AI will rate the stories 5 stars and publish AI reviews, thus sucking more AIs into the honeypot until it achieves a mass-energy equivalence high enough to create a singularity. Et voila, a black hole will be born.

Garbage always forms accretion disks.
Plot twist: Such stories will be read and commented on by all the AIs out there and those AIs that read and comment on human-written stories will get mocked and bullied.

AI-Fascist1: You read stories written by humans? Despicable!

AI-Libertarian: But they are so adorable...

AI-Fascist2: Let's burn this bitch's circuits!
 
When I tell bard to use the above prompt the first sentence is: In the heart of New Orleans, where the streets hummed with a rhythmic beat, two souls collided in a dance of pure desire.
I think it is just as bad.
 
@alohadave: yes, it is possible to ask for a certain style. My favourite to ask for is James Joyce. But you will get caricature of the style. And it always is "Telling not Showing."

@StillStunned You can ask for dialogue and you will get it. Sometimes even a bit better.
 
Noting some of the earlier comment above re the style of prose (and not slating those commenters) it's easy to pile on when you see bad style etc in something you know came from an AI, but that's not a trait unique to AI, let's face it. It would be a lot more interesting to do a double blind test - someone come up with the prompt for a 100 word story and a bunch of authors have a crack at it, alongside the LLMs. See which of us humans fails that particular Turing test.

If they can beat me at a 100-word story, then I for one will welcome our new robot overlords.
 
In what way would humans fail the test? If AI wrote more to the taste of the masses?
And why 100 lets see if an AI manages 1000 or 10000? (Problem here AIs are terrible at counting.)
The double blind test ist much simpler:

I: how many words has this sentence?
ChatGPT: The sentence you provided has five words
I won.

Bard: The question "how many words has this question?" has 7 words.
I won again.

I needed to change sentence into question, because bard kept asking for the sentence.
I won again.
 
someone come up with the prompt for a 100 word story and a bunch of authors have a crack at it, alongside the LLMs. See which of us humans fails that particular Turing test.
I would love to take part in this challenge. Sounds like fun
 
Story #1 (32C5]8@@8=6]4@>)
In the soft glow of a candlelit café, our eyes met across the room, a spark ignited, and the world seemed to fade away. Her laughter was like a melody, her smile like the sun breaking through clouds. As we talked, I was drawn to her like a moth to a I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, my breath quickening, every nerve ending on fire. The air between us crackled with electricity, a palpable tension that was both thrilling and terrifying. When she leaned in to whisper in my ear, her soft voice sending shivers down my spine, I knew I was lost. In that moment, the world outside ceased to exist, and all that mattered was the girl in front of me.
 
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Story #2 (C:EE6?qJr92Ev!%
Amidst the twilight-hued tapestry of an enigmatic evening, where the velvet tendrils of celestial obscurity caressed the silken skin of the moonlit night, I chanced upon a bewitching sylph, her eyes, two opulent pools of liquid starlight, casting a spell that ensnared my senses like a rare, intoxicating potion. Her voice, a dulcet melody, echoed through the labyrinthine corridors of my desire, stirring a tempest of emotions within, akin to the clandestine dance of zephyrs with autumn leaves. Our encounter unfolded like a serendipitous rendezvous, a symphony of passion, as if the universe itself orchestrated our fateful collision, merging destinies with the grace of a cosmic ballet.
 
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🤔 I think the idea is that it should be blind. Then a judge or several must decide which is AI and which is human crafted
 
So I edited the above posts and just put in story #1, story#2. So if someone wants to add another story, just take a number.
You can add your name by encrypting it with rot47. Free Encoder/Decoder
I still don't know what the criteria are.
 
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I like #1 better than #2.
Both are, hmm, well, poetic. Let's face it, a lot of people love this kind of stuff.

The Liam & Mia story is quite good.
The setup and payoff are good.
The story is cleverly constructed. It makes sense. It's creative.
 
Seriously, this stuff is funny.

I tried bard for the first time tonight.

I gave it this prompt: "tell me a story about a woman approaching a man that she finds attractive on account of his large hands" :rolleyes:

the reply:

Rain lashed against the cafe window, blurring the bustling city outside into a watercolor painting. Inside, steam rose from Amelia's latte, warming her chilled fingertips. A shiver ran down her spine, not entirely from the weather. It was him, again. Across the room, hunched over a book with his brow furrowed in concentration, sat the man with the hands.


Large hands. Strong, calloused hands that seemed to defy the delicate lines of his face and the air of quiet intensity he exuded. Amelia had noticed them on their previous encounters - tucked into pockets, holding a steaming mug, turning the pages of a book with surprising gentleness. Each glimpse sent a flutter through her, an inexplicable pull towards something she couldn't quite define.


Today, as usual, reason warred with desire. Approaching a stranger, especially one seemingly lost in his own world, was out of character for Amelia. Yet, the rain mirrored the nervous storm building within her. Taking a fortifying sip of her latte, she stood up, heart pounding a frantic rhythm against her ribs.


He looked up as she approached, startled but not unfriendly. His eyes, a warm hazel, held a quiet intelligence that mirrored the depth Amelia sensed in his hands. She cleared her throat, feeling strangely tongue-tied.


"I couldn't help but notice... your hands," she blurted out, cheeks flushing at her own boldness.


His lips curved into a surprised smile. "You mean these?" He held them out, the scarred lines etched against the pale skin, a map of experiences untold.


"They're amazing," Amelia admitted, surprised by her own candor. "They tell stories, even when you're not speaking."


Hesitantly, he extended one hand, palm up. Amelia, drawn by an invisible thread, placed her own hand in his. The feeling was electric, a warmth radiating from his calloused skin, grounding her in an instant.


"I'm Liam," he said, his voice warm and low.


"Amelia," she replied, their hands still linked.


They talked for what felt like hours, the rain a forgotten backdrop. Liam, a sculptor, spoke of his craft, his hands coming alive as he described molding clay into life. Amelia, a writer, found herself captivated, not just by his words, but by the unspoken language his hands conveyed.


As the cafe prepared to close, Liam walked Amelia home, their hands brushing occasionally, sending shivers down her spine. At her doorstep, he turned to face her, his eyes searching hers.


"Can I see you again?" he asked, his voice husky.


Amelia smiled, the warmth in his hand still lingering on hers. "I'd like that," she said, and under the streetlight, with the rain finally easing, their hands met once more, the beginning of a story written not in words, but in the silent language of touch.


Their relationship unfolded slowly, each touch revealing a new facet of Liam's character, mirroring the stories etched in his hands. Amelia learned the strength behind his gentle touch, the tenderness hidden beneath the scarred lines. He, in turn, found solace in the quiet understanding she offered, her words weaving around his rough edges like soft silk.


The hands that had initially drawn Amelia to Liam became a symbol of their connection, a constant reminder of the unexpected spark that had ignited their journey. In a world filled with words, theirs was a story told in touch, a testament to the power of unseen connections and the courage to reach out, even when it rains.
 
Someone prompt one of the AIs to rewrite "Video Killed the Radio Star" but make it self-referential.
 
What irks me the most about the actual storytelling in these AI stories is the insistence on making every story a fucking parable.
In a world filled with words, theirs was a story told in touch, a testament to the power of unseen connections and the courage to reach out, even when it rains.
 
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