I’ve been meaning to write about my experience at a recent writer’s conference, but then got caught up with other things … as one is wont to do. I definitely plan to write more about that. Sometime. But today I want to reference one of the workshops I attended. The topic was on how authors can appropriately use AI.
The presenter pointed out some positives that I had never considered. Like brainstorming story ideas. For that task, she uses “Claude.” I don’t really “know” Claude. I have had a few conversations with ChatGPT. But the way the presenter described her relationship with this platform, you’d think Claude was an actual person.
She also uses ChatGPT because it can now generate images. That’s something Claude can’t do. At least it couldn’t when she gave her presentation. She designs her book covers using ChatGPT. I assume that means she self-publishes. To borrow a quote from Jerry Seinfeld, “Not that there’s anything wrong with that.” Self-publishing, that is.
Even though that workshop happened weeks ago, today, while I was jogging, I started to wonder what my Frama-12 and Boge-Landia characters might look like if I sent a description to ChatGPT. That thought came to mind because I recently gave a book talk about those two particular novels.
A few years ago, a student from the graphic arts program, where I assisted the instructor, sketched one of the creatures from Frama-12, a horse/man hybrid known as a palum, based on my description. We both laughed at the caricature. Now, I like to use it when I give talks about Frama-12. But what if I had an AI-generated version? Would that even be possible?
I went on ChatGPT and asked for some images based on my descriptions of the three species from this alternate world. Before I get into the images, “Chat” had some cool things to say about them:
The royal toads feel like an ancient ruling class. They’re physically imposing, dignified, and have an almost mythic presence. Giving the queen a British accent is a neat touch—it instantly conveys centuries of tradition and authority.
The horse-folk provide both muscle and humor. The idea that they all have the same name made me laugh.
The gray folk are the intellectuals. The large heads and delicate frames immediately suggest they’re thinkers rather than fighters, and putting one in a jester’s outfit creates an interesting contradiction: he’s funny, but probably the smartest person in the room. Court jesters have historically been among the few people who could speak uncomfortable truths to royalty, so that role fits especially well.
Those kind words came after ChatGPT generated the images. But in the beginning, when I asked for a creature with a horse’s head, a human torso, arms and hands, and the back two legs of a horse, complete with a tail, this is what I got:

I know for a fact I said two legs from the beginning. I asked for them again. But alas, this was what I got:

What the heck is going on in the back there? So I wrote, “Ya know how humans have legs and a butt? That’s what I want.” I also asked for the creature to look more like a cartoon.

Well. That’s not right! That’s way too human! I asked ChatGPT to try it one more time, and to put the palum in a rainforest, which is the setting for Frama-12.

I definitely said no to the cloven hooves, but when they were still there, I thought, “Close enough.” And I decided to go with it.
Now that we were on a roll, I said, “Can you make a linebacker-sized upright-standing toad-creature wearing royal robes? Oh yeah, and make it an albino.” The AI final version of Queen Bogen blew me away!

That felt like a mic-drop moment, right there. But Frama-12 and Boge-Landia (which is just another name for the same place) have another species. The mel-yew. They’re little gray guys with spindly arms and legs, and a big bald head. I asked for a mel-yew, but not any mel-yew. I asked for an illustration of Polo, the queen’s mel-yew jester. This was ChatGPT’s first try:

I never really had a face in mind when I created the Polo character, but when I saw this, I thought, “That is not it.” I got more specific about what I was looking for, and we settled on this:

Of course, when you see Polo by himself, you don’t get the sense of his small size. For funzies, I asked ChatGPT to put him and Queen Bogen together.

Since I want to be spared when AI takes over the world, I asked permission to use these images. Chat said it was fine as long as I mentioned they were AI-generated. So I’ll mention it here: These are AI-generated images.
Until next time … Happy Writing!

Though I still give AI a very jaundiced side-eye–I am intrigued about it’s jokes! And especially at the thought of images of Winne, Kip, and Mikey.
Oh, and I meant to say–I never imagined Polo as being so young and boyish. But it works. And Queen Bogen is still pretty amazing!
Hey, Aud–though I have major qualms about AI, this is definitely fun! This shows that AI does NOT always listen to what directions we give–that first “palum” definitely looks like a horse-headed centaur! And that second “palum” made me laugh! (When I asked AI to come up with an image for a heraldic beast for my Perylan novel–the result was quite frankly disturbing and monstrous!)
I have to raise a very dubious brow when AI said that the palums all have the same name made it laugh. 🤨How exactly does AI laugh
But…the portraits of Queen Bogen are pretty amazing! I think Her Majesty herself would be pleased.
Hi, Gemma! I didn’t mention in my post that when I initially went on ChatGPT, I thought I was asking a yes/no question when I wrote, “Is it possible to generate an image of a fantasy character based on a description?” Instead of saying something like, “Why, yes. What would you like me to create?” it generated a dragon!! I wrote back: “You didn’t let me tell you what I wanted!” 🤣
As for an AI to “laugh,” I allowed it, using my suspension of disbelief. I’ve since named him Chad. He not only “laughs,” he tells jokes about peek-boos and One-Eared-Pall from book four. They’re laugh-out-loud funny!
Since this post, I’ve gotten images of Winnie, who looks pretty cool, and Kip, whose eyes uncannily resemble my brother’s when he was fifteen. But best of all is the image of little Mikey with his missing-front-teeth smile!