Replaced by Robots: Losing a client to AI
Losing a Long-Term Editing Client to AI: My Experience
Losing a client is always tough, but when I recently lost a long-term editing client to AI, it made me feel a certain way. It wasn’t just the end of a working relationship—it felt like the slow creep of a new era overtaking something deeply human. I could see it coming, though. The signs were there, and they were unmistakable.
The Subtle Shift
This client had been with me for a couple of years. I had worked with them on around twenty books; I had seen their writing evolve, watched their voice sharpen, and helped shape their stories into something uniquely theirs. So when I started noticing changes in their manuscripts, I knew what was happening.
Suddenly, their writing seemed...off. It wasn’t the usual tone I was used to. Passages became overly polished in a way that didn’t fit the natural flow of their style. Words like adorned began popping up in places that didn’t feel like them. Adorned is one of those words that’s an instant red flag for AI-generated text—artificial intelligence loves these kinds of ornamental words, words that sound fancy but often feel out of place in a typical draft. Suddenly, long passages of flowery description appeared—jarringly out of place in some of the action scenes.
As an editor, you become finely attuned to a writer’s voice. When you’ve been working with someone for a long time, you know their quirks, their rhythms, the way they string words together. What I was reading now felt like a watered-down version of that voice, something constructed but not quite authentic. And I suspected AI had taken its place.
The Conversation
I tried to approach the situation diplomatically. I gently brought up the possibility that some sections felt, well, “different.” The client was open about it—they admitted they had started experimenting with AI tools to speed up their writing process.
For them, it was an efficiency thing. They wanted to churn out content faster, and AI provided a way to do that. But for me, as someone who had invested years in helping them cultivate their voice, it felt like a disconnect. I wasn’t just editing anymore—I was cleaning up after AI-generated text.
English as a Second Language and AI
This particular client was also an English-as-a-second-language (ESL) author, which made the situation even more nuanced. They were a prolific writer, turning out multiple books a year and selling by the shed-load. I understood why they felt AI was a good solution—financially, it allowed them to speed up production and work through language barriers more quickly. Given the challenges that come with writing in a non-native language, I could see how AI seemed like a helpful tool to streamline their work. But even with this understanding, the reality was that AI wasn’t enhancing their voice—it was replacing it.
The Reality of AI in Writing
Artificial intelligence has come a long way in the past few years. It’s capable of generating text that, on the surface, reads well. But that’s just it—it’s all surface. AI doesn’t have the depth of human emotion, the subtlety of voice, or the nuance of intent that makes writing personal. It can throw around words like adorned, but it can’t grasp why a writer would—or wouldn’t—choose to use that word in the first place. And it can’t do weird stuff, the stuff that makes a book unique and bold; think Dawn O’Porter and her book The Cows; no AI could ever write something like that, something so quirky and shocking.
Writers, particularly those looking for quick results, might find AI tempting. But what gets lost is the human touch—the thing that makes writing distinct, meaningful, and resonant. AI can give you a well-structured paragraph, but it can’t give you the soul behind it.
As I said above, I understood the decision from a financial perspective. While I keep my editing prices relatively low, you simply can’t compete with free. AI offers an enticing option, especially for a prolific writer like my client, who was turning out multiple manuscripts a year. When you’re writing at that pace, the temptation to speed up the process with AI is hard to resist, even if it means sacrificing some of the human touch.
Losing the Client
Ultimately, the client decided to go all-in on using AI for their work. We parted ways amicably, but it was still a tough pill to swallow. After all the time we’d spent honing their craft together, it felt like I had been replaced by something algorithmic and impersonal.
Losing a client to AI isn’t just about losing a paycheck; it’s about losing the connection that comes from working closely with a writer. Editing is about more than correcting grammar and polishing prose. It’s about guiding someone through their creative journey, helping them find their voice, and elevating their ideas.
When AI steps in, that relationship—the one between editor and writer—gets severed. And it leaves you wondering: What happens to the craft of writing if we let machines take over?
The Human Element Matters
AI might be a useful tool, but it can never replace the human element of storytelling. Writing is a deeply personal, emotional process. It’s about expression, creativity, and connection. When we outsource that to machines, we risk losing what makes stories powerful in the first place.
And while AI can help speed up the process, I believe that it’s worth slowing down for the sake of keeping that humanity intact.
Moving Forward
Losing a client to AI has been a wake-up call. It’s a reminder of how quickly things are changing in the world of writing and editing. But it’s also a reminder of the importance of staying true to the craft. There will always be those who value the human touch—the nuance, the emotion, and the authenticity that no machine can replicate.
For now, I’ll keep doing what I do best: working with writers who value the process, who care about their voice, and who understand that sometimes, it’s the imperfections that make a story unforgettable. Because at the end of the day, AI can write a sentence, but it can’t write a properly human story with depth, complexity, and originality. And that’s a distinction worth holding onto.
