In early January 2024, I received a dream acceptance letter from the prestigious University of Sydney’s creative writing graduate program. It wasn’t just some program; it was validation.
Ever since I can remember, I have spent countless hours sitting in my room, writing stories. I was sure I’d write a bestseller someday. Although my parents didn’t see writing as a career back then, I was determined to beat the odds and prove them wrong. Getting into the University of Sydney was the first step in that success.
But after my acceptance letter arrived, I realized the world was moving in a different direction. My sense of wonder and writing chops stood no chance against artificial intelligence. I talked myself out of the career path as it no longer seemed lucrative.
I couldn’t ignore the changes AI is causing
I love language more than gardeners love dirt. I grew up reading Francine Pascal’s “Sweet Valley Twin” series and Danielle Steel’s escapades. I once refused to leave my room for days because my most beloved character in a book died, but since ChatGPT and other AI tools arrived, something in my creative radar has shifted.
In late 2023, I began noticing changes in the media landscape. Publications were laying off most of their writers, and friends in the industry lost out on great gigs and started competing with AI-generated writing.
As for the book industry, I realized AI will not spend years crafting a thrilling romance novel; it will instead churn out a thousand ebooks a month. For the commercial side of the industry, that will always be enough.
Meanwhile, MFA programs, like the one I was admitted to at the University of Sydney, still teach that the literary market is untouched. I’ve been struggling to believe that.
I wanted to ask my admissions officer: Are you preparing for the world we are entering?
I decided not to accept the graduate program’s offer
Since I received my admission, I have been fighting a constant battle between staying true to what I believe and keeping up with new technology. In the back-and-forth, it feels like I’m losing my passion. Even though I tried to rationalize that a creative program isn’t only about the job prospects, that it’s about art, refinement, and bringing people together through written art, everything else around us is pointing to a devastating end.
I pictured myself two years later, with my degree in hand, querying agents while thousands of AI-written books filled bookstores. I imagined spending time writing amazing essays that editors would run through AI filters before deciding whether they wanted to assign cheaper versions of the story. The thought of being obsolete scared me stiff.
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So, I made the heart-wrenching decision to walk away from the MFA.
Many people told me I was being overly dramatic because AI could never replace real writing and humans will always crave authentic stories, but I thought they were underestimating how quickly the market is shifting.
I also started thinking about what my master’s program would do for me. Would I be proud of the credentials? Or would I feel depleted after a $50,000 investment for two years of study?
I’m finding my own way into the future
Since I turned down the program, I’ve been experimenting with different storytelling projects. While I’ve been freelancing full-time, I’ve also joined writing communities that focus on authentic stories.
There are days when I wonder what my classes would have been like, and it makes me sad that I’ll never experience them. Many people are still pursuing MFAs, and it’s still worth it.
But I know now that I don’t plan to abandon writing; I’ll just have to reinvent it.
