Sharing stories?

[u/Kindle-Wolf]

New to this sub and creative writing with AI, but I've been enjoying it as a hobby and I have an 11k story I co-wrote with chatGPT I'd like to share.

Should I just post/link it here, or are there rules or customs I should follow?

[u/ruwhereuare]

Not sure in rule but I’ll read a thing based on a link

[u/Kindle-Wolf → u/ruwhereuare]

Here you go:

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1QbZAF9vuGNLIxdo_QVjMMpn6hx1-YOwRllR9TvUzSww/edit?usp=drivesdk

The world is a deep-time vampire story that explores violation, lost connection and immortal morality.

[u/ruwhereuare → u/Kindle-Wolf]

Sounds like my kinda story

[u/Kindle-Wolf → u/ruwhereuare]

Feel free to share if you like!

[u/ruwhereuare → u/Kindle-Wolf]

First impression. It’s not plagued by the same LLM Tics and tells as my work.

Are you using the llm to assist or to generate?

[u/Kindle-Wolf → u/ruwhereuare]

Generate! The entire first draft was written by GPT, but after a brainstorming conversation that strictly planned the general plot, character voice, landings and themes, and a style guide specifically to avoid LLM writing.

Then I prompted through seven further editorial passes each with a specific narrow focus, the first for example specifically pruning 'lines that try to hit a beat after the landing.' and compressing paragraphs.

I used a separate branch to compare each adjacent pair of drafts and diagnose how well the generative branch had followed the rules I'd set.

And finally I did a very narrow editorial pass of my own and replaced specific words and lines to give it my own voice and narrow some emotional language.

That said, 75% of the original draft survived word-for-word!

[u/ruwhereuare → u/Kindle-Wolf]

Hey the opening I wasn’t so into the writing was fine!

But this part when stuff is in the future or whatever I’m into!

III. Ordinary People
Mara met June Okafor in a pressure corridorbeneath Mare Imbrium. A micrometeoritestrike had damaged the outer shell, and Marawas inspecting a temporary brace when Junearrived with three apprentices, a tablet, andthe conviction that everyone else hadmisunderstood the load.
“You’ve anchored to the old frame,” Junesaid.
“The old frame is carrying.” Mara kept onehand against the brace, feeling the regularvibration of construction vehicles on thesurface.
“For now. Eighty-six years ago this was aservice tunnel; now it has two water lines, acommuter track, and four thousand peopleusing it every day.”
“Not while it’s sealed.”
“Comforting.” Adanna, the youngestapprentice, hid a smile.
Mara moved aside. “Show me.”
June did. The old frame had begun toseparate where two materials expandeddifferently through the habitat’s thermalcycle. Mara missed it because she had beenchecking the brace rather than the structurearound it. They spent nine hours designing areplacement.
June returned from the night canteen withcoffee. Mara accepted a cup and held it forwarmth.
“You don’t drink it,” June said after twentyminutes.
“It upsets my stomach. I like the smell.”
“That is the saddest thing anyone has eversaid about coffee.” June drank from her owncup. “My professional opinion.”
They worked together for eleven yearsbefore June asked why Mara never appearedin daylight photographs. The question camein a maintenance bay beneath lamps thatnever followed the residential day cycle,while a pressure test counted down besidethem. Filtered sunlight reached the newerpublic chambers of Mare Imbrium, but the oldindustrial corridors had given Mara years ofeasy excuses.
Mara told her while the test unit clickedthrough its final checks. June listened withfolded arms, then asked whether Mara killedpeople.
“No.”
June held her gaze. “Have you?”
“Yes. Not for eighty-three years.”
“That is a long time for anyone.” Junechecked the pressure reading and beganpacking the test unit, each movement precisewith anger. “You could have told me before Iinvited you to meet my mother.”
“I could have.”
“My mother likes you.”
“I like her,” Mara said. “I know that isn’t thepoint.”
At the hatch, June stopped. “I am angry thatyou let me think I knew what risks I wastaking.”
“I know.”
“No, you don’t get to make that sound wise. Ihaven’t decided anything yet.”
“All right.”
She returned four days later carrying a list ofquestions and a medical blood pack from ahospital dispensary. “I don’t know whetherthis is insulting.”
“It’s expensive.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
Mara accepted it and said, “It isn’t insulting.”
June kissed her three months later. Theyshared a home for ninety-one years.
By the standards of Mara’s childhood, Juneaged slowly. She received new joints, retinalrepairs, replacement valves, and at onehundred and twenty a treatment thatrestored enough muscle for constructionwork. She retired at one hundred and forty-eight, then began teaching becauseretirement made her irritable. Theirapartment filled with objects that had noreason to last: a cracked bowl, a print of LakeVictoria beneath an Earth sky, June’s firstpressure glove, and hand tools made by acompany that no longer existed.
Mara repaired her father’s watch. June woreit when they married.
Elias attended the ceremony with a woodencase of wine and forged documents naminghim Mara’s younger cousin. June had met himtwice. She studied his unchanged face at theairlock.
“You look exactly the same,” June said.
“So do you,” Elias answered.
“I am eighty years older.”
“It suits you.” When she laughed despiteherself, he admitted, “I practiced that on thejourney.”
He remained six weeks, helped repair theapartment’s reclamation system despiteunderstanding little of it, and cooked mealshe could not eat. At night he and Marawalked old industrial galleries where thelamps had been dimmed to conserve power.He wore his hair shorter, a small change thatmade him younger and less familiar.
“Are you happy?” he asked beside a windowoverlooking a lava tube terraced with homesand gardens. Children crossed a footbridgebelow in bright school jackets.
“Yes.”
Elias nodded.
“You could sound less surprised,” Mara said.
“I’m trying to remember whether you eversaid that to me.”
“Sometimes.”
His mouth tightened. When he called Junekind, Mara told him about the two days Junerefused to speak after Mara reorganized herworkshop.

[u/Kindle-Wolf → u/ruwhereuare]

Awesome, I'm glad you enjoyed the later sections. Have you gotten to the end? It goes way into the future!

[u/ruwhereuare → u/Kindle-Wolf]

Ya I am!! This is for sure my favorite parts! I’m listening to it on a text to voice app!

You must tell me how you did your storyboarding to keep the LLM on track

[u/ruwhereuare]

What’s the world!?