We are all becoming familiar these days with the acronym AI, but that does not mean we are adapted to this new mode of communication — far from it. A recent experience is an example of how frustrated we can become when communicating with a robot.

I am a writer of novels, and nonfiction from time to time, having four published books under my belt, but I must admit, new technologies purported to make our writers’ work easier are sometimes confounding me. Case in point: a recent day trying to get my memoir ready for my editor:

“Stop it!” I said, “Just stop it! I’m busy writing!” In case you wonder to whom I was talking, it was to my computer, well to the AI program which was interfering with each word I tapped out. Admittedly I appreciated the correction to sometimes misspelled words as my thoughts unraveled on the page. I did not appreciate the constant changes to the syntax of my sentences. I had jumped into ChatGPT to help me write a synopsis of my story, a suggestion from a writer friend. Even she admitted having some troubles with AI and proceeded to relate to me a frustrating day she had recently experienced with said helper, AI. She — let’s call her Mary Ann for the sake of this story — an author of some repute, was having trouble with her newfound “helper” AI.

Mary Ann, author of several romance novels, knew they thrilled her audience, mostly overworked housewives, professional women, too. The latter couldn’t wait to plug into her audio books on their way home from work during rush hour.

Now Mary Ann was trying to write her 20th book, not a thriller, but a new slant on a romance novel, or what is popularly called today, romcom. As she tapped out the word “romance,” which she had accidentally misspelled, she found herself yelling “stop it — that isn’t what I wanted to say. I can’t even finish a word in MS Word doc without a red line coming up!”

Once she fixed the misspelling, Mary Ann tried to grab the tail of the train of thought she was trying to follow as the scene unwound on her laptop. A voice from nowhere suddenly interrupted her writing again:

“You have someone at the door — better open it. He appears to be your husband who is locked out, forgot the code.”

“Thank you but no thank you, Alexa. Coming honey, I’ll be right there.” Alexa was the helper her well-meaning husband had gifted her for Christmas. Mary Ann described how she descended the stairs from her upstairs writing room, almost tripping on Alexa, a small object that seemed to randomly roam the house. As Mary Ann reluctantly made her way to the front door for her beleaguered husband, she wondered — was buying Alexa really a good idea? Pretty soon she might jump into bed with them and tell them how to have middle-age sex.

Back to Mary Ann’s romance novel. She tapped out the next line.

Describing a love-scene on a beach, once again AI interrupted, tapping out words she had not typed on her screen. She admitted maybe choosing a sandy beach on an exotic and sunny island was a better choice than Manzanita, Oregon’s beach in the fog. “Oh, OK, you might be right,” Mary Ann said out loud, “but stop interrupting my brain flow. I’m not editing yet! Where was I?”

“I’m going to have to Google the exact place — what was the name of the island my grandson said he took his girlfriend? Oh, thank you: yes, you’re right. It was Martinique in the Caribbean. If I had to find one good thing about you AI freaks, it’s your help in finding places on the world map. Now let me finish this romantic scene in my novel with no more interruptions, please.”

“Wait, what’s that whirring sound downstairs?” Harry, Mary Ann’s husband, had apparently instructed Alexa to vacuum the carpet.

“Honey,” Mary Ann yelled down to him: “Honey, could you please tell Alexa to stop. We can have her vacuum later. I can’t think with all these interruptions. I promised my editor I’d get the manuscript to her by tomorrow.” No answer. Mary Ann continued to tap away at her keyboard.

Just then she heard another sound — a chirp of her cell phone. Where had she put it? She followed the sound and finally grabbed it from her back pocket of her jeans where it had been all the time.

“Hello! Hello!” Mary Ann screamed into her phone. An automatic voice came over the line.

“This is your editor calling. She is reminding you of your scheduled conversation tomorrow at 10 a.m. If you agree press 1. If you don’t agree press 2. If you have a question press 3. If you need to change the appointment press 4.”

Mary Ann hesitated. Before she could press anything, an AI voice said, “Goodbye.”

Mary Ann realized that with all the interruptions she had that day, she’d never finish her draft by tomorrow at 10 a.m. She redialed her editor’s number once she found it in Contacts on her phone. An automated voice answered:

“Hello. If you are a client of Debra James and Company. Please press 1.”

Mary Ann pressed 1. Then the voice continued: “Please listen to our menu as our options have recently changed. Press the number of the person you are trying to reach.” Mary Ann tapped her fingers on her desk, as she listened to the next message: “If the person’s name you are trying to reach starts with an A press 1, if the person’s name you are trying to reach starts with a B through H, press 2, or for any other name press 3.” At her wit’s end, Mary Ann tapped the red dot on her phone, slammed it down on her desk in frustration and exclaimed “Oh, hell — I’ll just have to finish the story by 10 a.m. tomorrow. I’ll never reach Jill to ask her if I can reschedule.”

“Did you say something, honey?” Harry was just walking into her office with a glass of wine in his hand.

“Yes, yes, I did say something! I’m so fed up with AI, I need one of those, too. Can you please get me one while I try to finish this story?”

A voice came out of the hallway, where Alexa lurked: “I don’t think you want to drink that wine, Mary Ann. Remember what your doctor said.”

If any of Mary Ann’s experiences make you laugh with understanding, read “The Coming Wave” by Mustafa Suleyman. AI is here to stay and take over our lives, I’m afraid, even more than as experienced by my friend, Mary Ann. This writer would love your human comments: How has AI helped or hindered your life?

Sher Davidson is a member of the Jottings group at the Adult Community Center.