If I were to ask you a specific question as to how you know the things you know, would your answers inevitably vary from person to person? Would your answer be influenced by which region of the world you were born in? Would your age—as related to technology and it’s effect on your learning environment, possibly your educational level, or a combination of these and many other unstated factors, all have played a part in what you have come to know? Points to ponder?
Let’s break it down even further. The human race is gifted with intellect. How we use that gift as individuals, is ours for the choosing. We have the ability to make our own choices in just about any matter presented to us. However, the choices we make are predicated on the knowledge and understanding of the matter being discussed. So, the question begs to be asked. Where did that knowledge come from, and how were we taught to apply our current logic to each situation? I believe the possibilities to answer this are endless. From the dawn of time and the eventual rise of the human form, we have created and developed the knowledge within us. In the beginning, it was mostly by doing, learning from our mistakes, trial and error, if you will, and for some, that method still works today.
Imagine this. You live in a cave. You step outside and see some mushrooms growing on the forest floor. You do not yet possess the knowledge to understand what they are or whether they are helpful or harmful to your wellbeing. You and they just exist. Eventually, someone makes a conscious effort to put this foreign object in their mouth. There is no reasoning behind the decision to eat this fungi except the all encompassing need for survival, the most prevalent instinct at that time. I sometimes try to imagine what these humanoids were thinking when they witnessed the individual who first consumed a poisonous mushroom, then took sick and died. Maybe, because of the lack of basic knowledge, they didn’t think too much about it at all. But what they did do, was learn. The simple lesson—that particular soft, woody piece of vegetation was not to be consumed. This new found intellect would then be passed on to the rest of the clan and subsequently, on to future generations, for the good of all.
Fast forward to the twenty first century. We have learned to consume many different species of edible mushrooms and have long since identified the poisonous ones. Does this then translate to no more deaths due to the consumption of a poisonous mushroom? Sadly, no. Because of that same gift of intellect, and no matter the accumulated data, we still have the ability to make our own choices, for good and bad. We are still learning.
I recently had a conversation with my son. We were discussing how I had learned to do the particular renovations I was helping him with. My answer, and true to most of my generation, I gained the knowledge in this area from my father. I would watch what he did, listen to his instruction, and then try to emulate his methods until I got the basics mastered. It was then, a matter of practice to become proficient at those skills. This method was possible because I was in proximity to he and his work environment growing up, most likely, because of the parameters of my generation. My son, on the other hand, although he and I discuss these skills often, has adapted the tried and true method of his generation and acknowledges that YouTube video’s are your friend. I must admit, this technology, which wasn’t available to me in my youth, is now a go-to method of education when it comes to learning to do just about anything you need to accomplish.
I have enjoyed writing for many years. The knowledge I have gained by the act of doing has been invaluable. Education, opportunities, curiosity, effort and passion have always been the driving force behind my ability to wordsmith. At the risk of dating myself, putting pen to paper has worked for me. So, am I old school? I don’t think so.
Where at times, there can be a clear delineation between methods of learning and the accumulation of knowledge in any endeavour, my path to authorship was definitely one of the hybrid variety. As much as I enjoy the pursuit of writing and can be a ferocious note taker, I have also learned to embrace the convenience of modern technology. Long gone are the sounds of the clicks and clacks of the manual Olivetti machine I learned to type on. Now, walking each morning, AirPods in my ears, talking to myself (to the detriment and stares from the passersby) has produced some of the best passages I have eventually transcribed. There is something pure in the act of telling a story to yourself, knowing you are capturing it for editing purposes at a later date. This method has freed me from the bonds of daily computer-chair drudgery. I find myself being more creative and free to record my real feelings and thoughts about any subject I am currently working on. The conversations I have while walking are more authentic and insightful. It makes the art of writing and eventually, editing, more pleasurable. Yes, there is still the element of actually transcribing those verbal notes to the computer, editing my word salad into some form of readable material and using a myriad of apps to format and refine the lot into a usable and saleable manuscript. But note: the operative word here is apps. I still want to use the available help in creating my best product.
What I have not embraced, in any way, shape or form, is (AI) artificial intelligence. That is to say, I have not used this new form of technology to create, enhance or redefine any words you have ever read from me. I do believe there is a time and a place for the use of AI in certain fields, but not specifically in the writing of, or generation of sentence structure, paragraph or chapter writing and subsequently, the finished manuscript. I know I will probably be counted in the minority on this subject one day, if not already, but as of this writing, I feel strongly that what I read should be the product of human creativity and not something artificially disseminated from the many volumes of the written word fed into a computer, only to be regurgitated out the other side. I just can’t help but think we are on a slippery slope, it’s raining torrents in the valley, and the mudslide is imminent. Let’s be careful with this. Just because something exists, doesn’t mean it should be used in every way possible.
I will try to sum up my musings in a few short words—if you are going to exercise and stretch your creative juices, especially in the literary sense, don’t you think you will be much happier and enjoy a feeling of profound accomplishment by using your accumulated learning to produce the masterpiece waiting inside you? I for one, encourage you to get out the old Olivetti, or much more conveniently, go for a walk with your ear buds and start recording your thoughts. You might be amazed at what the centuries of learning practices we humans have perfected, can help you produce without the use of artificial intelligence. We all have stories. It may be time to let yours out!
A very quick update and a huge thank you to the hundreds of you who have bought and read my book, Perpetual Motion. I have had many incredible comments as to your enjoyment of this project and I appreciate every note! If you haven’t reached out already, I would love to hear from you by any method you feel comfortable using—Email, Facebook, Instagram, Text, Messenger or a good old-fashioned phone call! They all work for me!
If you enjoyed the book, tell a friend, leave a review on Amazon or simply cherish the memories my stories have evoked. It has been one of my life’s greatest pleasures to fulfill this dream of authorship.
Again, thank you.
Dana
August ‘24