The Beauty of First Drafts: Why Writers Still Matter (Especially Now)

“We don’t need writers less because of AI. We need them more.”

I’ve been thinking a lot about words lately.

How powerful they are. How they land. Linger. How they feel when you say them out loud. Words that change your brain chemistry.

Those moments when words change how you feel in real time.

Who am I in the world? “Writer” sounds so flat. Empty. Like it doesn’t hold the weight of what I actually do. Maybe, storycatcher, emotional barometer.

I write what it feels like to be here.

Reflections of a human soul. Too deep. I got you. Maybe I’m just out here living a journey, but saying it out loud.

• Vegan life. Said out loud.
• Motherhood. Said out loud.
• Struggle. Said out loud.
• Sensitive soul. Said out loud.
• Artist. Said out loud.

So the realization for me this past year has been this, I haven’t just been a cookbook author, recipe developer, food writer and blogger for a while now. I’m no longer just a food blogger who happens to write. I’m a writer who happens to talk about food sometimes. That’s who I’ve been all along. And that’s probably why I went on this screenwriting UCLA tangent a few years back.

Writer as a Kid

One of my earliest memories is sitting on the couch on a Saturday morning, clutching a little metal spiral notepad with those blue-lined pages. I didn’t have a story in mind. I just had words. And I remember writing about a little girl and her brother tiptoeing across morning grass, dew drops cold on their feet, giggling as they ran back into their warm, cozy house.

I loved that little scene. But then I remember thinking, “Wait — this isn’t a story. It’s just… words. It doesn’t go anywhere.”

That thought followed me for years. I told myself I wasn’t a storyteller. I could describe things, sure, but I didn’t know how to craft a “real” story — you know, with a plot, a purpose, a clear beginning, middle, and end.

Even now, when I talk, I feel like I’m doing laps around a track. Like I’m supposed to circle once, make my point, and stop. But instead, I just keep going. And going. It’s a runaway train. And yet — somehow — I always find my way back to something worth saying.

You don’t need an exciting story to share something meaningful.

I’ve grown into a writer who writes about right now. What I see. What I feel. What’s happening in this moment. And that’s enough.

Social media gets this. Instagram is built on it. Most of what we share aren’t grand, plot-twisting stories — they’re snapshots of a feeling. A moment. An observation.

And honestly? That’s how people have always documented their lives. Hundreds of years ago, people wrote in diaries because they didn’t have Instagram stories or TikToks. They had words. Paper. Pen.

Look at Anne Frank. Yes, her story became monumental — but her writing reads like an intimate Instagram feed. She wasn’t sitting there thinking, “This will be my novel.” She was sharing her moments.

Words have always been the simplest, most powerful form of content.

Recently, I discovered the poet Zoe Branch, and she sparked this entire reflection. She writes poetry the way people send voice notes — no overthinking, no obsessing. Just a spark of inspiration, and she lets it flow. First draft energy. It’s raw, it’s real, and it hits you in the heart.

I even commissioned her to write a poem for Rosalie. It arrived in the mail — this beautiful, imperfect, perfect piece of writing that captured exactly what I felt.

Zoe Branch (poet) wrote this poem for my kid:

….That’s the kind of writer I admire. Not just the bold names on the cover of novels or the screenwriters in the credits we rarely read. But the ones who feel their words. Who don’t need to wrap them in glitter to make them land.

And in a world where AI can spit out perfect paragraphs in seconds, I think we need those raw words more than ever.

Writers and AI, Chat GPT..

I’ll be the first to say — I love using ChatGPT to help me edit and clarify my writing. But the important part is that the words always start from me. From my messy, human, first draft brain. And stay preserved in the final edit.

I try to be messy about my writing these days. It shows that it’s human. That first draft meets m- I do have a point here – energy I love.

Writers are going to write — no matter what tools or tech exist.

There’s power in a messy first draft. In not knowing the ending. In just writing your way out, like Lin-Manuel Miranda so perfectly put it in Hamilton.

So, no, I don’t need an exciting story to be a storyteller. I just need to write about right now. And maybe, the next time I feel like a runaway train on lap five of my internal monologue, I’ll remember: that’s my process. That’s where the gold is.

We don’t need writers less because of AI. We need them more. In today’s world, we need people who see the world, feel it, and say, “Hey, here’s what I noticed.”

That’s what I do. That’s who I am.

Real Writers Are Out There, Experiencing Life

I recently read an article in the LA Times about writers and AI — about how AI might one day replace the need for human storytellers. And my immediate response to that is simple: AI mines the past. It can never predict the unknowable in this moment. The surprises and spontaneities life throws at us.

AI tweaks and mimics what has already happened. But it cannot predict the future. It can TRY, but really predict it, no way. No one can. That’s the entire point of life.

We don’t know what’s going to happen today. Stepping out the front door is an act of bravery and adventure.

Life isn’t a pre-written script; it’s a gamble, a risk, a daily unfolding of things we never could’ve imagined. And that’s why we still need real writers. Because writers aren’t just sitting in front of screens, rearranging words, we’re experiencing life.

We’re walking through wet grass, we’re crying on phone calls with friends, we’re living through the surprise of every day. AI can summarize what’s already happened. But it can’t feel something brand new in real-time and translate it into words that hit. That’s a human skill. That’s the heartbeat of a writer.

Words are powerful. I am so happy to get to share mine with you right here.