Special Edition: Channeling genAI Dread to Revisit The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron

Dear Reader,

I mentioned in June 2026’s newsletter that I started the 12-week Artist’s Way program in May. In that update, you can also find my Gen Con Writing Symposium schedule and a link to my recent Patreon announcement…along with fountain pen and ink geekery.

This month, I wanted to share my inspiration and experiences in the hopes that it might spark fresh bursts of creativity for you, too.

The Inspiration

The conversation in my head, trying to figure out how to re-center myself, began with yet another chat about gen AI and the effects it’s having on opportunities, existing jobs, etc. Some established artists and authors are faring well as both fans and publishers are turning to trusted creators. Many, however, are not and are switching careers entirely, training their replacements, like they are in Hollywood, Silicon Valley, and through remote work, muddling along while dreading/hoping for a crash, struggling to adapt, or are simply head-in-sand waiting to see where the dust will settle.

It’s challenging to have these conversations, because people who aren’t aware of the harm genAI causes, the damning effect on the entry-level workforce and automating all white-collar jobs, or the growing concerns about AI psychosis keep saying “prove it.” Or, there’s the argument that any anti-AI bias is simply coming from a lack of knowledge.

How do you prove people’s experiences? Especially in the arts and entertainment industries—plural—when scientific analysis is offloaded to genAI and it’s a faux pas to openly talk about genAI’s effects. I am privileged to speak about it, because I have spousal support, a part-time job, and an agent right now. Many, many, many creatives do not have that backbone.

And, as a veteran in the hobby games industry with a reputation for worldbuilding, but not as well known for my authorial voice, I have to wonder where that leaves me. Right now, my saving grace is the anti-AI bias amongst creators and fans. That’s giving me some hope right now, and inspires me to keep writing.

While there are no guarantees in life, I think we can all agree the vibes right now are more turbulent than they’ve been in previous years. Uncertainty can breed confusion which, unfortunately, may lead to resentment and rumination. For creatives, comparison either spurs you to act or leads to bad behavior.

I don’t want that nonsense in my life. I don’t want to ever be in a position where I get so depressed about what’s happening in the world I can’t write or I start comparing/contrasting my journey to someone else’s. Been there. Done that. Over it. After acknowledging that, I thought about what I do want: a safe headspace that protects my creativity and works-in-progress.

For me, genAI is not safe.

genAI and its Impact

“Oh, AI is here to stay!” People say. You know, I don’t want to practice predictions anymore, either. There have been plenty of moments where new technology was developed and it didn’t take, weren’t widely adopted like the current issues with 3D printers, or were buried because they worked too well. So, here’s what I do know: I am not anti-tech. Not by any stretch of the imagination. I am anti- "Just build sprawling massive data centers b/c we 'think' we need them even though we don't know what effect they'll have on people, animals, the environment." Our ecosystem is incredibly fragile. And, yes, centuries-to-fix damage does occur when we mess it up, which is why several lawsuits against AI data centers have already been filed including a lawsuit against a data center colossus in Memphis, TN. That is what I know.

I also know the existence of genAI does not change “me”. It doesn’t affect my art or my words, because for me genAI is a digital slot machine that doesn’t help me at all. You put words (coins) in, and it spits out an image or a video or a number or what-have-you. But genAI doesn’t teach you how to make that image or tell that story, it doesn’t even credit or pay the artists, authors, etc. whose stolen works were used to train its large language model (LLM) or small language model (SLM), nor does it come with a disclaimer or care about accuracy. Instead, I learn and continue to sharpen my skills to retain that knowledge and apply it. I do this by reading other authors who put the time, care, and attention into their books, and by writing. And, if necessary, I research at a library or by riffing off of Wikipedia resources instead of using genAI, which has proven to be unstable and inaccurate as well as culturally-biased instead of culturally-neutral.

As a human being with true intelligence, it’s clear to me this technology was not produced to benefit everyone equally—only a few people. Even then, that is questionable. What we’ve been shoveled now is not artificial intelligence. Words may have become codes shaped by algorithms and queries, but that doesn’t mean the AI is aware of what it’s saying.

For beginners, new to the act of creation, this lack of taught skills is ensuring they remain reliant on this technology while inducing unrealistic expectations. What appalls me is the claim that there is a “barrier to entry” to making art. Really? What barrier to entry? The fact that you can learn how to draw using a pen or pencil and piece of paper—far less than a cup of coffee these days—does not scream “privileged” or “elite” to me. The library, home to many, many reference books, is free. Not to mention, there are literally 1000s of free YouTube videos and tutorials created by experienced artists encouraging new artists to make their own art.

What is an artistic barrier to entry, unfortunately, is genAI—because you do not learn the skills required to continue making it without that tool. (Mind you, and I do want to point this out, it is not my place to judge or comment on how the disabled community is using genAI or how they’re benefiting from those tools.) These profit-driven tools were created to replace human beings because payroll is often cited as the number one expense for any company. That is not a doom-and-gloom statement. That is the goal. To make us so reliant on automation, the tools control us. In February, Microsoft’s AI boss says AI can replace white-collar jobs within 18 months. While the reality may turn out to be different, because the promise that AI will save costs is proving false, certain jobs are at risk—and writers are more likely to be replaced. (See this set of interactive infographics from Harvard Business School.)

Imagine putting in prompts to write a fantasy story. Or create your own movie with the likenesses of your favorite actors. Did you learn how to plot? Write a script? Act? Direct? Say your movie goes viral. What then? What’s your end game? To just be famous and seen rather than build a career, be part of a community, or contribute to an active industry? Or do you just want to produce and produce more content hoping you’ll become an influencer not knowing that And, if your goal is to be famous for who YOU are and what YOU make—why use an engine that’s built on stolen materials? How replaceable are you if the art you make can be that easily produced? It won’t take five or ten years to answer those questions, because people who work in films that are “below the line” (e.g. storyboard artists, graphic designers, even writers) are at risk of losing their jobs. Just recently, Google invested in A24 to research an AI partnership, and I expect more will follow.

What this does mean, however, is that eventually genAI will produce banal or average works, because there is a difference between experienced and novice creators simply because the experienced creators already possess the skills necessary to produce the art genAI is attempting to replicate. (Mind you, I strongly disagree with the idea that I must use genAI to brainstorm, because I do not need genAI to come up with ideas. Regardless, any advice is also reductive because creative processes, just like people, tend to be variable and do change. If they didn’t, we wouldn’t have an entire industry devoted to “how to” write, draw, etc.) Well, as it turns out? It is inevitable that two different creators will use genAI and create almost the exact same thing—and can do so legally. If you use genAI, you legally don’t hold the copyright to produced works regardless of what the TOS says. No one does. While genAI and copyright is a developing issue, you cannot claim 100% originality if you use it full stop. Though it’s premature to even speculate on how copyright will be affected going forward, minus established copyright issues using genAI to produce art using characters like Batman, it is not unbelievable to retroactively build an AI-generated piece of art, book, movie, etc. by piecing together what prompts were used and which software.

Unfortunately, developments are happening faster than most of us can keep up with. Just a few days ago, Meta AI launched a new feature through Instagram that would allow people to reuse and remix your images using AI. The backlash was swift, with Sag-Aftra leading the way, and the feature was removed.

For experienced professionals, the tech doesn’t always speed up the creative process or make our lives more convenient either. (I say “always” because AI is such an umbrella term these days that encompasses far more than ChatGPT. Any automated code is being marketed as AI, even if that code was not billed as ‘AI’ before. There are a LOT of marketing efforts (to the tune of $1.3 billion) being channeled into the word “AI,” and yes it is confusing to sort out the differences.) In my case, it does not. I don’t need ChatGPT to write for me, because I am a writer. It is literally my job to conjure words and narratives, and when I make a mistake I learn from it to polish and hone my skills. No AI-powered technology reproduces the path to learning, gifting creators with the skills necessary to internalize for other projects.

So yes, all of this to say that I did feel the tendrils of depression kicking in. The clock is ticking, and the behind-the-scenes work I’ve been doing is coming to an end. I knew I needed to do something about this feeling of dread, to prioritize my human-created works.

Enter the Artist’s Way.

The Artist’s Way Take Two

Realistically, this is my second time going through the program created in 1992 before social media, before streaming, before 24-7 news cycles—before all the ways digital content has consumed our lives.

I started The Artist’s Way years ago, but work blew up and had to set it aside about half-way through. The author, Julia Cameron, remarks that a lot of people abandon the program around week five or six. This time, however, I opted to make excellent use out of my summer vibes and the extended daylight hours. This is a busy time of year for me, but it’s also a season of growth. (Literally, as evident by the number of weeds sprouting up all over.) So, I rebooted the program toward the end of May and, just as Cameron predicted, I’ve been infused with so much creative energy I can’t find enough hours in the day. I am so consumed with creativity I literally do not have the spoons to give a flying cluster of F-bombs about this otherworldly timeline right now. On top of trying to HumanTM, I have shit to do. Art to make. Words to write. A creative, human spirit to nourish. All the things that existing before genAI and will survive long after that code has disintegrated and investors give up.

Look, I don’t know where you are in the genAI discussion right. There’s a lot of hype and misinformation being shared on top of factual news and anecdotal experiences. Plus, I am fully aware of the social pressures to use the tools and how the tools are designed to constantly and positively reinforce your every input. That is a lot to sort through for anyone. If, however, we can at least agree we live in a messed-up timeline and it is harder to create than in years past? Even due to the sheer volume of content that’s hitting us at different points? Then I urge to think about ways to help yourself move forward that aren’t reliant on software. Expression is part of being human and the fact that you, dear reader, are a creator in some organic fashion? Well, that’s amazing in my book. Don’t let a piece of tech and anxious investors diminish your right to learn, make mistakes, and apply those lessons to your creations.

The Artist’s Way was my solution because its purpose matched my goals. I carved out time for journaling, reading, exercises, and artist’s dates ahead of time, too. The program may not be for you, but before you opt out? I suggest checking it out from your local library or finding a used copy. Though this is written as a twelve-week program, don’t be afraid to progress at your own pace and consider extending the program to twenty-four weeks (two weeks per theme) instead of twelve to accommodate your schedule. For example, I need to pause a week this month because of my appearance at the Gen Con Writer’s Symposium; I know from experience it’s much harder for me to dedicate time for journalling and self-exploration when I’m at a convention. So, instead of trying and feeling like crap about the half-assed experience, I’m just going to table that week until I get back.

Of course, no self-help book is one-size-fits-all. This is especially true for creators living in today’s extraordinarily complicated zeitgeist. Before you read or skim the book, I urge you to remember that the purpose of The Artist’s Way is to empower you. In other words: Take What You Want and Leave the Rest. I think there’s a danger in expecting every week to be mind-blowing and life-changing, because we don’t live in the same digital-lite world when the book was initially written. (Even then, The Artist’s Way was the culmination of years of workshops, too. ) Unless you’re living under a rock, then it’s quite possible you’re either hyper-connected or sensitive to the deluge of information. In other words: Your brain space might already be full and overflowing.

So why take it? Why commit? Well, the lessons aren’t designed to teach you something—they’re there to empower you. To help you decide, as a creator, what matters and what doesn’t to you. When you do commit, you are making a promise to yourself, to set aside distractions and re-center yourself, focusing on what matters to you. Hell, you might start the program and recognize that you’re not just tired—you’re actually burnt out. Or, you might acknowledge the reasons behind your frustration with making art right now are due to off-page factors and not your creativity.

In a world that discourages failure, time to think, and attention to detail, insight is priceless—because creators thrive on it.

I hope this newsletter sparks a fire in you to not only create, but remind yourself how precious you are. May you summon your creative energies and fill the next, blank page.

‘Til next time,

Monica

P.S. Since I started researching the articles for this post, I discovered that a number of resistance groups and lawsuits are mushrooming. Review actions you can take at airesistlist.org and determine what permissions, if any, you want to give AI for your likeness through registry.rslmedia.org, created by legendary actress, Cate Blanchett.

The public domain photograph illustrating July 2026’s newsletter was taken by George Hodan.