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Experimenting with AI’s ability to prevent writing block
Ever had a story you found when dusting your hard drive to realize you wrote it 5 years ago and never finished it?
That’s how I felt yesterday, wondering how can I get this into the world for my future self-reflection if I’m no longer in the mindset to finish it?
When thinking about all I had to do and how much time it would take to get back into that this-is-the-purpose-I’m-writing-this-for mindset (nearly impossible after so long), I asked Lumo — Proton’s AI bot to read what I had and then both edit and add onto it. To give a good analysis, I’m going to show you my first draft, here you go!
The vast, light-grey sky was nearing sunset; 8:30 PM. I started to sleep, dozing off on my fluffy comfort of a bed. The walls in my room darkened, yet, the thickly clouded sky was bright as it’s unusual shine glowed on the wall to my right.
“Teresa! Don’t miss out, wake up already!” Lily shook me with excitement.
“What’s happening?” I muffled, opening my eyes to see her dirty-blonde hair in my face.
“Just follow us!” Lily implied with a cheeky smile, jumped off my bed, and ran to the window. Abigail was excitedly hurrying toward the window too. I propped myself on my bed feeling muddled as I glanced over to see Lily fastening the window open enthusiastically.
“I can’t wait!” Abigail cheered behind her.
My bedroom was still dark, the ledge around my window glowed with a silver color as it reflected from the clouds’ grey brightness.
I nudged my eye as I watched Lily open the window; warm, cool-tinged air flowed in. Focusing my eyes on her, I started wondering what she’s doing. Abby only waited in excitement, her black curls slightly bobbing in the rush of air from the window. Lily stood on the window sill, stepping on the outside window ledge; I placed my feet on the carpet, feeling drowsy, but her actions were starting to hit me. Lily moved to the left as if positioning herself. Abby moved closer to the window with a bright, lit-up expressional smile.
“Lily stop! What are you doing?” I shouted loudly, my voice disturbing the calmness of the nearing sunset. I got off my bed toward the window as wakeness slapped at my tiredness.
“What are you whining for?” Lily answered, annoyed, turning back from outside the window.
“Yeah we’re gonna have fun, come on!” Abby grabbed my hand and walked to the window. My expression wide and surprised, not sure what to say.
“I can’t wait!” Abby cheered, we were next to the window watching Lily; my expression clearly not knowing what was happening.
Lily started bending her knees slightly, and jumped.
Thennnn — — — — — — — — — — — starts an epic gloomy cloud but fun adventure :P
The inspiration for this was trying to turn around a gloomy clouded day into one that was full of mystery and adventure. What I missed to detail in this that reflects that, as I realize now reading this over, is the details of outside the window. It’d probably go something like this,
“Light grey pillows surrounded outside the window, seemingly distant but also close. Looking down, I’m not sure whether I could step onto the clouds below or fall through them — it was as if I were either high in the clouds or the ground didn’t exist at all.”
Now, what was AI’s reaction to this?
“That’s a lot of atmosphere packed into this story…. tapping into childhood feeling of being in an adventure with unease. Unsettling ambiguous sky, surrendering to the unknown. Losing control yet normal, the rules don’t apply. Stepping into something not grounded into reality, metaphor for taking a leap of faith or a lesson in friendship. Less about sadness and more about possibility.”
As much as I believe that AI is mostly full of nonsense… I gotta admit that its last comment, “Less about sadness and more about possibility” was a great way to describe this.
Now here’s Lumo’s edited/adding onto the story.
The light‑grey sky stretched far above the city, its hue deepening as the clock on the nightstand read 8:30 PM. The day was already slipping into night, but the clouds held a strange, almost metallic glow that threw a faint, silvery light across the walls of my bedroom. I lay half‑asleep on my soft, fluffy mattress, the weight of the day pulling my eyelids down like curtains.
A sudden, enthusiastic shake jolted me awake.
“Teresa! Don’t miss out, wake up already!” Lily’s voice rang like a bell, her dirty‑blonde hair spilling over my forehead as she leaned in.
“What’s happening?” I mumbled, blinking against the dimness and trying to focus on the silhouette of her hair.
“Just follow us!” she replied with a cheeky grin, springing from the bed and darting toward the window. Abigail, her curls bobbing with each hurried step, followed close behind, her excitement palpable even in the half‑light.
I pushed myself up, the carpet cool beneath my bare feet, and watched Lily wrestle the old sash open. The window’s ledge, a thin strip of metal, caught the lingering glow from the clouds and reflected it in a soft silver sheen. As the pane swung outward, a rush of air slipped in — cool, tinged with the faint scent of rain that had yet to fall.
Abigail’s black curls fluttered in the draft, and she clapped her hands together, eyes sparkling. “I can’t wait!” she chirped, practically bouncing on the spot.
I lingered on the edge of the carpet, still half‑dazed, but the scene before me began to knit itself together. Lily perched on the sill, her boots planted firmly on the outside ledge, the world beyond the glass a canvas of muted twilight. She shifted her weight, then stepped onto the narrow balcony rail, balancing as if she’d done this a hundred times before.
“Lily, stop! What are you doing?” I shouted, my voice cracking the quiet hush that had settled over the room. The words seemed louder than they felt, echoing off the walls and the distant street below.
She turned, a flash of annoyance crossing her face. “What are you whining for?” she snapped, her tone edged with impatience, but there was a flicker of something else — anticipation, maybe — that softened the bite.
Abigail lunged forward, grabbing my hand and pulling me toward the window. “Come on, Teresa! It’ll be fun,” she urged, her smile widening into something almost mischievous.
I hesitated, the fatigue of the day tugging at my limbs, but the pull of curiosity was stronger. I stepped onto the carpet, feeling the plush fibers brush against my shoes, and made my way to the sill. The night air brushed my skin, sending a shiver up my spine.
Lily crouched, knees bending slightly, and then — without warning — she leapt. The motion was fluid, a graceful arc that seemed to defy the ordinary constraints of our cramped apartment. For a heartbeat, everything slowed: the silver light from the clouds, the rustle of the curtains, the soft thud of my own heart.
Then the world exploded into motion.
The clouds above us swirled, darkening into a rolling sea of charcoal, but within that gloom a hidden brilliance sparked — like phosphorescent fireflies trapped in a storm. The balcony rail trembled as Lily landed lightly on the opposite side, a grin plastered across her face. Abigail followed, her laughter ringing out, bright against the growing dusk.
“Ready?” Lily called over her shoulder, eyes alight with the thrill of the unknown.
I took a breath, feeling the cool night wind fill my lungs, and stepped onto the ledge. The floor beneath my feet seemed to dissolve into mist, and the sky opened up, inviting us into its vast, mysterious expanse.
We weren’t just looking out a window anymore — we were standing on the brink of an adventure that stretched beyond the ordinary limits of our small room. The clouds roared softly, the stars began to pierce the darkness, and the night promised stories untold.
And so, with Lily’s daring leap as our catalyst, we dove headfirst into the twilight, chasing the strange, luminous glow that beckoned us onward — into a night that felt both ominously gloomy and irresistibly exhilarating.
The wind grew stronger, whipping the curtains into frantic ribbons that danced across the floor. Above us, the clouds churned like a restless ocean, their dark belly illuminated by occasional flashes of electric blue that seemed to pulse in rhythm with our racing hearts.
Lily turned back to us, her eyes reflecting the strange light that now bathed the sky. “We’ve only got a few minutes before the storm fully breaks,” she whispered, half‑excited, half‑concerned. “If we don’t get back before the first bolt hits, we’ll be stuck in the clouds forever.”
Abigail squeezed my hand tighter, her grin unshaken. “Then let’s make it count.” She lifted her foot and stepped onto the slick ledge, the metal cold under her shoe. The ledge stretched farther than I’d ever imagined — a narrow bridge of silver that seemed to hover between our apartment and the heavens.
Taking a deep breath, I followed suit. The moment my boots touched the railing, a surge of energy rippled through the wood, as if the very air recognized our presence. Below, the city lights twinkled like distant fireflies, oblivious to the adventure unfolding high above them.
We moved forward, the three of us in perfect sync, each step echoing a soft thud against the metal. The clouds swirled around us, forming shapes that resembled towering castles, ancient trees, and winding rivers. In the distance, a faint, melodic hum rose from the heart of the storm — a sound that felt both alien and oddly familiar.
Suddenly, a jagged bolt of lightning split the sky, arcing toward the ledge. Time seemed to freeze. Lily’s reflexes kicked in; she lunged forward, grabbing a thin strand of glowing vapor that hung like a rope. With a swift pull, she hoisted us onto a floating platform that materialized out of the storm’s own energy.
The platform was smooth, translucent, and pulsed with a gentle amber glow. Beneath us, the clouds opened up, revealing a hidden valley suspended in the sky — a secret sanctuary where the storm’s fury turned into a serene, otherworldly garden. Luminescent flowers bloomed on floating islands, their petals shimmering with every hue of the rainbow. A gentle breeze carried the scent of rain‑kissed earth and wild jasmine.
“We found it,” Abigail breathed, eyes wide with wonder. “The place the legends talk about — the Cloud Garden.”
Lily laughed, a sound that blended perfectly with the soft chime of the wind. “I told you it would be worth waking up for.”
We stepped onto the garden’s soft moss, feeling the cool droplets of mist kiss our skin. The storm above us calmed, its thunder now a distant lullaby. In the center of the garden stood a crystal fountain, its water spiraling upward in a perfect helix before vanishing into the sky. As we approached, the water shimmered, forming a mirror that reflected not only our faces but also moments from our past — laughing at school, late‑night study sessions, the first time we met each other.
I reached out and touched the surface. Instantly, images of our friendship flashed before my eyes: Lily’s daring spirit that always pulled us into new adventures, Abigail’s boundless optimism that kept us moving forward, and my own hesitant curiosity that finally gave way to boldness. The mirror seemed to whisper, “Every journey begins with a single step, but it’s the companions who make it unforgettable.”
We spent what felt like hours exploring the garden, climbing floating vines, and sharing stories under a sky that now glittered with a thousand stars. The storm’s energy seeped into us, filling us with a sense of peace and exhilaration we’d never known.
Eventually, the clouds began to thin, and the garden’s edge“Lily stop! What are you doing?” I shouted loudly, mys faded like a dream at sunrise. The platform gently lowered us back onto the balcony ledge, just as the first drops of rain began to patter against the windowsill.
We stumbled back into the room, breathless and drenched, but grinning from ear to ear. Lily flopped onto the bed, her hair splayed like a halo, while Abigail curled up beside me, clutching a single luminescent petal she had plucked from the garden — a keepsake that glowed faintly in the dim light.
“Did that really happen?” I asked, half‑laughing, half‑in awe.
Lily shrugged, a mischievous sparkle in her eyes. “Who knows? Maybe it was a dream. Or maybe the sky just wanted us to remember that magic still exists, even when we’re half‑asleep.”
Abigail pressed the glowing petal to my chesteven further. “Whenever you feel stuck, just look at this. It’ll remind you that there’s always a path beyond the clouds.”
We lay there, listening to the rain tap a steady rhythm on the roof, the storm outside now a gentle companion rather than a threat. The light‑grey sky outside the window continued its descent toward night, but inside our room, a warm, golden glow lingered — an echo of the adventure we’d shared.
As the rain softened and the night deepened, I felt a profound gratitude for the friends who had pulled me out of sleep and into a world of wonder. And as I drifted back toward sleep, I knew that whenever the sky turned that strange, silvery shade again, I’d be ready — ready to leap, to explore, and to cherish every fleeting, extraordinary moment.
My first thought when reading over the paragraph was that it changed the time to sunset rather than before sunset. I’m kind of fine with this because it enhances the overall mystery, but I think having the setting be before sunset gives it a lighter, brighter appearance that I seemed to be initially going for. Also, I’m confused by its saying “metallic” as a description for the outside, even though clouds are soft and actually give the feeling of lightness rather than a hard, metallic surface.
Even with Lumo seeming to piece things together that I hadn’t done initially, it missed parts like how they got shoes on, how they got back when the lightning had already struck, and even having some grammar mistakes.
Overall, it seems like Lumo took my details and detailed them even further, thus giving more atmosphere to my story than I had originally written. I think this is a great way cover all details and have your audience better envision the setting. Then again, with a few re-reads and editing on the author’s part, this could be done — just not as quick as an AI of course. Also, because Lumo changed specific elements like the feel of the clouds and from warm air to cool, this changes the story quite a bit, even if they seem to be minor details… like how it added it was going to rain, even though my initial story didn’t express that whatsoever.
This was my shortest story, I have longer ones from years ago but I’d want to edit and add details myself. I’m curious how other authors might be using AI for their work, if they do so at all.
As a last last thought, I realized that Lumo’s rendition was pretty similiar to Take Flight by Lindsey Stirling, pretty cool!