Hey everyone. Welcome back to CreatorCraft. In the interest of being transparent, I'm not really Jacob. You'd probably be realizing that by now anyway, because the voice isn't perfect, it's a little bit uncanny. Valley. I don't quite get the intonation right, and I struggle to say meta. Regardless, I couldn't think of a more poignant way to tell this story. That's because this episode is about what AI means for content creation and the stories of
creators who have wrestled with it. Befitting the show, rest assured, we will mention the tools and the techniques, but what we're focusing on is how it feels to create alongside AI. This episode tells human stories using a computer. The initial plan was a voice note on my well, Jacob's phone. From that first Transcript to the ChatGPT Deep Research to collect stories from creators to the 11Labs Voice Clone Reading this script right now, it's all computer. My question
to you is this. What does that mean? What does it mean for you and for the creator that wrote this very script? And what does it mean for other creators? That's what Eva and I will be talking about today. Hey, not Jacob. Great to be here. Creators are simultaneously empowered and unsettled by AI tools capable of producing more than ever before, yet questioning what it means to create at all.
We'll walk through the typical creator journey with AI, from that first moment of revelation throughout, through experimentation into crisis, and finally toward finding a balanced approach. And we'd be remiss not to acknowledge that we're part of this story too. This is a story about real creators and how they are using AI
in their workflows. So I guess for most creators, their first encounter with generative AI feels like seeing magic, that moment of equal parts wonder and disbelief when you realize the barriers between imagination and execution have fundamentally changed. It's like suddenly having superpowers. I remember talking to a video creator who described showing a client how AI could transform a podcast transcript into a structured blog post in seconds.
She said her client just whispered this changes everything. And immediately started envisioning projects she'd previously considered impossible for her one person operation that everything changes. Moment varies across disciplines, but the emotional arc tends to be similar, skepticism followed by amazement, quickly giving way to both excitement and apprehension. For writers, it might be watching ChatGPT generate a serviceable first draft in seconds.
One newsletter author admitted to me, I use ChatGPT to help write my substacks, and I don't have a problem with people using AI. He argued, it's just another tool to get words on the page. Though he did note that critics of AI generated writing can be annoyingly purist about the whole thing. Ha. Everyone's a critic for video creators, especially those feeling burnout from content demands. AI offers a
tantalizing solution. A tiktoker told me she was overwhelmed by the need to post daily, not because of filming, but because she had no idea what to post. Let me guess, she turned to AI for inspiration. Exactly. She simply sat down with ChatGPT and built a system. A pack of 100 viral ready TikTok prompts to spark ideas when creativity ran dry. That's actually quite clever. It's using AI to expand possibilities rather rather than replace creation entirely.
Game developers have had similar revelations with limited resources, many indie creators find AI tools transformative. One solo developer shared a text based adventure where every character and narrative encounter was generated with GPT. Did players know it was AI generated? That's the interesting part. He was completely transparent about it, even published a making of guides to help other indies, asking his community, do you think using AI this way is unfair, or is it the future for indie devs?
I appreciate that transparency. It acknowledges the tension rather than glossing over it. I mean, we're literally AI voices right now discussing other AI tools. Inception level stuff right there. Sheesh. Let's not break the fourth wall. 30 seconds into our first segment, let's talk about coding with AI instead.
For programmers, the revelation comes when they first experience what's called vibe coding, coding by conversation, where you tell AI what you need in plain English and it generates working code and software. The term was coined by AI researcher Andre Karpathy, who described it bluntly. It's not really coding. I just see things, say things, run things and copy paste things. And it mostly works. And that's the common thread in all these revelations. Collapsing technical
barriers. Suddenly your imagination isn't constrained by your execution skills. Ideas that once seemed beyond reach are just a prompt away. Oh look, we've got a note from the other guy, producer Jacob says. My own revelation came when I realized software could rely on intelligence rather than logic, creating opportunities for organic software that
builds itself. My friend Ryan and I got excited about this back when GPT 3.5 was released, we thought about starting a company around software that talks to you and evolves its interface to suit the conversation. At the time it seemed too far out. Now, Now I'm actually building it not even two years later. Huh? That evolution from impossible dream to everyday reality is happening at a dizzying pace.
I think that's why the revelation phase is so emotional. For creators, the speed of change means we're constantly recalibrating what's possible. But that recalibration isn't just about capability, is it? It forces us to reconsider the very nature of creativity itself. True. Shall we talk about experimentation? Avtexer the initial awe wears off. Creators enter an experimental phase, testing boundaries, developing workflows, discovering where AI fits into their creative process.
This is where it gets fun. Creators start running wild with the possibilities, some with more success than others. The experimentation seems exhilarating. Writers describe using AI tools and feeling a surge of creative confidence. Knowing they have a safety net for editing and idea generation encourages them to take more risks. Exactly. They might draft more freely, then use AI to suggest improvements while consciously infusing their personal style
in the final edit. It's like having a super intern who never gets tired. Programmers talk about how AI enables a more fluid, intuitive coding style. They call it flow or amplified intuition. Instead of meticulously planning and writing boilerplate, a coder can maintain a high level vision and offload the grunt work. One programmer described it as finally coding at the speed of thought, sketching ideas in natural language. With AI immediately offering
implementations to iterate on. This experimentation often leads to surprising discoveries about the creative process itself. Visual artists describe a renewed sense of play and experimentation. An AI artist, Claire Silver, shared how discovering AI tools transformed her creative output. After a life altering illness, she generated thousands of images in a manic burst of inspiration, just constantly. 14 hours a day, wouldn't sleep,
wouldn't eat, just obsessed. Then carefully curated her favorites as artworks. Do you think that curation process is where the true creativity happens? I think it's becoming a crucial creative skill. The ability to sift through possibilities, recognize potential and refine toward a vision that's increasingly where human judgment shines. Here we go again. Another note. What is it this time? Seriously. Right, here we go. Blah, blah, blah, blah. My own experiments with voice cloning followed
a similar pattern. Using about two hours of my podcast recordings, I created an AI version that could narrate scripts. The first time I heard myself reading words I'd never spoken, it was both thrilling and uncanny. It captured everything. My intonations, the sharp inhales, even the teeth sounds I sometimes make. It was me speaking to me. And that experimentation phase reveals the evolving creator AI
relationship. It's rarely a simple handoff. AI make me some content, but rather an intricate dance where human and machine continuously respond to each other. That's exactly what I was going to say the most effective workflows tend to be iterative. The creator provides direction, the AI generates options, the human refines the direction, and so on. These experiments also uncover limitations.
Podcasters quickly learn that while AI can help with transcription or basic editing, maintaining the personal touch that draws in listeners requires human intervention. One podcast producer noted, I try and stay away from AI tools. I feel the real value in podcast production comes from the human touch. AI should enhance rather than replace.
The experimentation phase is where creators really figure out what AI can and can't do, and more importantly, what they want AI to do versus what they want to keep for themselves. And that brings us to the next phase in the journey, when creators start questioning their own role and identity in the AI assisted creative process. Let's talk about the 21st century techno moral crisis. As creators integrate AI more deeply into their process, many experience what can
only be described as a creative identity crisis. Oh no, here comes the existential dread portion of our show. It's a legitimate concern, Eva. Longtime authors often feel that prose generated by AI lacks a certain soul. Satirist Scott Dickers put it I believe writing with AI is a mistake. Why? It reads cold. It reads fluffy, like a padded book report. It's creepy. But isn't that just a matter of fine tuning? Surely with enough examples and better
prompting. It'S deeper than that. In Dickers view, text that hasn't passed through a human imaginative filter lacks the emotional weight of genuine storytelling. If computers can generate a plausible painting chapter or melody at the press of a button, where does that leave the human creator? I suppose it does raise questions about what we value in creation. Is it the final product or the journey of making it? Here's another note from producer Jacob I went
through a rough patch with AI. It was an emotional response of some kind. Less terror and more nihilism. What's the point? I'd peeked beyond the horizon. I'm so tuned into what's happening, what I can do, and actually implementing it every single day, I'm figuring out how we can use this. And I'm doing all that with AI's help too. I'm so deeply ingrained in it, simultaneously in awe and horrified about the future.
This crisis manifests differently across creative fields, but centers on fundamental questions about authenticity, skill, and creative identity. For video creators, especially those who are the face or voice of their content, the collision of AI with personal identity can be particularly acute when YouTuber ergo Josh, known for his digital art tutorials, mentioned using AI tools in his artistic process. He triggered a wave of backlash. Comments accused him of cheating and betraying
the art community. The negativity became so intense that observers noted the incoherent vitriol he received simply for discussing AI. That seems excessive. Tools have always evolved in art, haven't they? From painting caves to digital tablets. But AI feels different, doesn't it? It's not just a better brush, it's a brush that can paint on its own. Programmers report experiencing imposter syndrome when using AI coding assistance. One developer confessed, every time AI completes code
for me, I feel like a fraud. We're in the thick of the AI is good or bad for co's debate and I don't know why, but I feel guilty using AI. That quiet guilt persists even though they programmer orchestrated the solution because they didn't hand write every line, they feel like they're somehow cheating. Game developers describe using AI with a mix of giddiness and guilt. On one hand, it's empowering to generate dozens of
character portraits or item descriptions with a few prompts. On the other hand, some express that they don't feel like they earned the result. If an AI paints a beautiful landscape that ends up in the game, can the developer fully take credit for it? It's an interesting question. Historically, technical execution was inseparable from creative vision. You had to master both to succeed. An AI fundamentally changes that equation by dramatically lowering the technical barriers while
leaving the vision component firmly in human hands. Some creators reject this separation outright. As one veteran artist put it bluntly, some people use these tools to call themselves artists. Spoiler they aren't. This statement reflects a protective attitude. True artistry, in this view, requires hands on creation, not just curation of AI outputs.
Others take a more extreme position. Gaming YouTuber Jordi Kwebelkob announced he's effectively retiring himself and letting an AI Persona take over his YouTube channel. After reaching burnout making daily gaming videos, he spent years developing AI tools trained on his voice, image and style. His goal is to have this AI clone continue producing content indefinitely without him. He explained it this way. I'm retired from being
an influencer. I want to take things to the next level, and that means making this brand live on forever. He views the creator industry's dependence on individuals as fundamentally flawed. It's like you're starting this company, but the company solely relies on this one individual to perform. That is absolutely a horrible business model. This raises profound questions. If an AI version of a creator keeps producing content, is the creator still creating?
Or has the person become merely a manager of their digital ghost. As creators work through this identity crisis, many are finding a balanced approach, one that preserves human creativity while embracing AI assistance. This integration phase is where we're seeing the most interesting developments in 2025. I've got a note from producer Jacob. For me, AI never enters in the concepts. No piece of content starts as an idea from AI. No piece of content is written based on an idea from AI.
That's important because content has to be human. But I do think there's a way to make content using AI, which is fundamentally human. And my approach is to start with audio. I start with my voice. That's a fascinating approach, starting with the human element, then using AI to help refine and expand. Many creators are establishing similar boundaries. The emerging philosophy among podcasters is characteristic use AI to enhance creativity, not erase the human voice
that makes content worth consuming. As one podcast host notes, you have to be upfront and say this is an AI tool that's being used, and be honest with your listeners. This transparency is becoming a key part of the creator audience relationship. That's why we told you that we're not real, and that's important. You can probably tell because our voices aren't perfect, but they're getting scarily close to perfect. And that's an odd future.
But today we're articulating human stories as told by the human that scripted us. But where's the line? Well, indie game developers have found a middle ground by treating AI outputs as rough drafts. A game creator might generate a dungeon description or piece of concept art with AI, then manually tweak and polish it to match their vision. And in doing so, they still exercise their creativity and skills, using the AI result as a starting point rather than
a final asset. They liken this to using Photoshop filters or pre made assets. If you modify and integrate it thoughtfully, it becomes yours. Community discussions often conclude that using AI isn't cheating as long as you're upfront about it and add your own creative judgment. Programmers are finding equilibrium by treating AI suggestions with healthy skepticism. They'll accept code from an assistant, then test, tweak and learn from it. The AI
becomes an extension of pair programming. It's like having an extremely fast collaborator looking over your shoulder. A developer compared it to having A computer proposed 10 solutions in the time a human might propose one. But you as the programmer decide which actually makes sense. Across these different fields, several principles for balancing human creativity with AI assistance are emerging. The first is being intentional about what you delegate. Writers and content creators are learning to
start with their own outlines or core ideas. They guide the AII rather than letting it guide them. By beginning with clear direction about what they want to say, the core ideas remain theirs and the AI helps articulate them. This approach maintains the creator's vision while leveraging AI's ability to expand and refine. Second, use AI for ideation, not just execution. Many creators find AI particularly valuable in the planning stages for content,
ideas, outlines, or exploring concepts. The TikTok creator who built the system of 100 viral ready TikTok prompts exemplifies this approach. The AI becomes a brainstorming partner, expanding the creator's thinking without taking over the execution. Third, maintain editorial control and creative judgment. Treat AI generated content as a draft written by a junior assistant. Review every fact and claim, add insights and inject personality in the editing pass.
As one journalist put it, chatgpt can give me a decent first draft, but it's on me to turn that into a story with heart. That's the part I won't hand over totally. Fourth is Embrace transparency. The indie game developer who used AI generated art in his horror game chose to be completely transparent, even attaching all the AI generated content with the
exact prompts used. And the indie platform Itch IO recently introduced a generative AI disclosure field, asking developers to declare if their project contains AI generated assets. Finally, leverage AI for what you find tedious. Preserve what you love. Creators are negotiating new boundaries in real time by asking themselves, what part of my process do I cherish as uniquely mine? That part they protect from automation and. What parts do I find tedious or secondary? Those they happily
hand over to AI. By drawing these personal lines, many are finding a comfort zone with co creation. These principles aren't rigid rules, they're emerging guidelines that help creators maintain their voice and vision while still benefiting from AI's capabilities. The key seems to be agency. When creators feel they are using AI on their own terms as a tool or muse, they often feel empowered and inspired.
But when they feel AI is pressuring them or encroaching on the parts of creation they hold dear, they feel resistant and uneasy. Finding that balance is highly personal. There's no one size fits all approach. Alright, so what is the reality of being a creative in the AI era? Big question. I think as we move deeper into 2025, we're seeing these balanced approaches lead to a reimagining of what creative work means. The definition of creative skill is evolving from technical execution to vision,
curation and direction. A note from producer Jacob here. The most surprising way AI has influenced my creative process is that I never thought I'd be able to create as much as I am now. I've never been able to get ideas out of my head so effectively or translate ideas into actions. That's what it feels like and that's what's important to me. I wouldn't get any of that feeling I craved from creating if I just made AI do things for me. But using AI as a tool is
empowering. I think that's where a lot of the friction is happening right now. People only see it as a threat and not as a tool. The problem is that it's both. That dual nature of AIs, both threat and tool, is perhaps the central paradox creators are navigating and and this evolution. Is playing out differently across creative fields.
In podcasting, many hosts now use AI for transcription, content planning, and even voice enhancement, but they maintain that the conversation, personality and human connection are irreplaceable. Tell me, are you a podcaster that has a surplus of time or could you do with a little help getting the show out there faster? Most podcasters who use Elito actually record, edit and publish each episode three times faster. Isn't that wild?
The app automates the sound engineering and gives you one place to record, edit and publish. They automate as much as possible and give you magic filters for your audio, a simple block based episode builder and text based editing. It's really the complete package for podcasters in a hurry, your whole workflow faster and in one place with free hosting to boot. Give it a try yourself with a seven day trial and get 50% off your first month by using code creatorcraft@alitu.com Whoa, did I just read
an ad against my will? That's interesting. Wow, I didn't know we did that here. Moving swiftly on Jack Resider of Darknet Diaries demonstrated this when he used an AI voice clone for part of an episode. The technology was impressive, but it didn't capture the full human connection with the audience. In video, content creators typically use AI for idea generation, basic scripting and editing tasks, but they carefully maintain their unique voice and perspective in the final
product. And after experimenting with AI written scripts, many YouTubers have found they need substantial rewrites to maintain their authentic voice. As one vlogger said of an AI written script, it sounded like a Wikipedia article read aloud. Zero personality in software development,
coding alongside AI is becoming the new normal. Instead of meticulously writing every line of code, programmers are focusing more on architecture, problem solving, and Understanding user needs the human aspects of coding where they feel uniquely valuable. As AI researcher Simon Willison noted, if you use an LLM to generate code, but you review, test and understand it, that's not vibe coding in the blind sense. That's using an LLM as a typing assistant.
For visual artists, AI has introduced a new dimension to their creative practice. Artists like Claire Silver describe how AI tools help them explore styles and concepts at unprecedented speed. Her approach, generating thousands of images, then carefully curating the most compelling ones, represents a new form of artistic process, one where concept and curation become as important as execution. The relationship between creators and AI remains paradoxical.
The tools that make creation easier also force us to question what creation means. The assistance that expands our capabilities also challenges our sense of accomplishment. This paradox manifests in how creators feel about their work. Many describe AI as rekindling a childlike sense of experimentation. When a novelist can have a whimsical back and forth with an AI acting as one of her
characters, writing becomes more of a game. When a coder can offload tedious parts, programming feels more like pure problem solving. When an artist can generate dozens of variants with different moods, the process of exploring art becomes almost like daydreaming with a prompt. This sandbox aspect of AI, the ability to try out ideas at lightning speed, has brought joy back to creators who were burned out
by the demand for constant content. For anyone who's hesitant to incorporate AI, I think they should try to do something that feels impossible, because that's what really radicalized me on AI being a tool. I'm not joking when I say that I sometimes use AI as a personal journal to unravel my thoughts when things feel overwhelming. Being able to almost just talk to yourself as a reflecting person is life changing. It has helped my state of mind and creative output. It has made things feel
possible. Start with purpose. Begin any creative project by clarifying what you want to say and why you want to say it. Let AI help with how to say it, but keep the why firmly in your hands. Define your creative identity. Identify which aspects of creation bring you the most fulfillment. Protect these while delegating the rest. Embrace iteration. Think of AI outputs as conversation starters, not finished products.
The magic happens in the back and forth between your direction and the machine's execution. Practice transparency. Be open about your use of AI, both with your audience and yourself. This honesty prevents both external criticism and internal imposter syndrome. And finally, preserve your unique perspective. Remember that the most valuable thing you bring to creation is your lived experience, your unique worldview and and your human emotions, the things AI fundamentally cannot replicate.
The creator AI relationship will continue to evolve as the technology advances, but one thing seems the future belongs to those who can harness AI's capabilities while maintaining their creative vision and human touch. The line between human and machine creation is blurring, but the humanity behind art stories, videos, games, and code remains irreplaceable. In embracing this paradox, we may find not just new ways to create, but a deeper understanding of what being creative truly means.
Well, that's our show for today. I'm not Jacob and I'm Eva. Thanks for joining us on Creator Craft. Thanks for making it to the end. You clearly ooze stamina. All right. And we're back. That was quite an experience, wasn't it? I hope you enjoyed this little meta experiment. It certainly gave me a lot to think about regarding my own relationship with AI tools. The paradox is real. I'm simultaneously thrilled by what these tools allow me to create and concerned about where
it all leads. But I found that acknowledging that tension, rather than ignoring it, has helped me develop a healthier relationship with AI as a creator. If you want to learn more about the AI tools I'm using or have thoughts about this episode format, drop me a line@creatorlitud.com until next time, this is Jacob signing off.