Sure, I’ve seen a lot of AI “stories” that read like a spreadsheet of tropes. It can stitch words together, but it’s usually missing that gut‑feel you get when a character really flinches or smiles for a reason that isn’t in the data set. The line is razor‑thin because any algorithm can hit the mark if fed the right input, but it can’t *understand* the why. So, you’ll get technically coherent plots, but they’ll feel like a good movie watched in mute—there’s a narrative, but the soundtrack’s off. If you want genuine emotional depth, you still need that messy, imperfect human touch.

I’d say the moment that cracked open my own writing was when a young mother, in the middle of a midnight crisis, finally admits to herself that she’s tired of hiding. I had her standing over a shattered lamp, hands trembling, whispering the name of the son she’s never actually met. The key was the pause after the whisper—she didn’t finish the sentence, the breath left in the air, the silence louder than the words. That breath, that unfinished thought, is what lets the algorithm feel the weight of an unsaid confession. If you can map that pause and the physical cues around it, you get a human feel even in a line of code.