Come write something new
Friday workshop discount enclosed, plus more on editing, why AI can't write a good poem, and a free workshop in July
Hello writers,
In this newsletter:
50% off this week’s Friday writing workshop
Info about the editing workshop next week
Examples of kak AI poetry
Free writing workshops in July and August
This post is free, but if you’d like to support my work you can consider a paid subscription, or buy me a coffee.
The world is (gestures with shock) and yet we are here, writing. It can be easy to think that creativity doesn’t matter when there are many practical and real problems that need solutions. But I’d like to make a case for creativity as essential.
As the world remains a chaotic place, it is human connection that is going to save us all. Reaching out to others and showing them that their feelings of struggle, of isolation, of grappling, and of joy are not something that they should bear alone is a powerful act. Reading and writing is also a way to relate to the other, to try to understand those with whom we disagree, not to condone, but to more clearly articulate our arguments. The power of words to change minds is infinite. But those words must appear on the page first.
I’ve been an avid reader since I can remember and one of the joys of reading is that it allows you to develop empathy and a more robust vocabulary to describe the world around you and the feelings you are experiencing.
When the times darken
will there be singing even then?
There will be singing even then.
Of how the times darken.Bertolt Brecht
We make sense of things via writing about them, and by telling stories. Not by getting AI to do that for us. Reading and writing promote empathy (it has been shown by many research studies) and sometimes we need that empathy with ourselves to bolster our courage to act.
So, I invite you to find your courage (always remember that this word has its roots in the word ‘heart’) and to show up for yourself and others on the page.
I’m also very excited to have the privilege of reading Nerine Dorman’s latest book, Call the Fire, published by Mirari Press (Marius du Plessis) and to be in conversation with Nerine this Thursday evening at Exclusive Books Cavendish.
Writing workshop - May 22nd
This Friday from 9am to 1pm I’ll be hosting a writing workshop on writing with your senses and through the seasons. We’ll complete a series of exercises to write a long piece that covers all four seasons with the same characters (remember - if you write 200 words a day you can have a novel within a year!) It was REALLY fun to hear what was produced in the in-person workshop this past Saturday, and I can’t wait to hear from you.
There is still lots of space, so for this week only I’m offering this workshop at a crazy R200 per person. That’s 50% off. You get four hours of workshop, and the recording after the session so you can re-watch and redo the exercises at your leisure.
To book, email me: jenthorpewrites@gmail.com
Editing workshop - May 28th
On May 28th from 12.30 - 1.30 pm I’m running the first in a series of self-editing workshops on Zoom to share what I know about how to read your own work closely, and iron out any kinks. These sessions invite you to bring a piece of writing that you’re working on, and edit it in real time.
Workshops cost R150 each and will take place on Zoom. Recordings available so that you can rewatch in the future.
AI poetry is kak, believe me
I attend the most wonderful book club. It’s wonderful because you can skip four years (like I did) and still stay in the WhatsApp group and show up to the next meeting like you’ve never missed a day. It’s also wonderful because we spent over an hour talking about wombs in the last one, and what they mean.
We also spoke a lot about AI, and the limits of AI, and why I will always believe humans are better creators than AI. One example that I shared in that group was that I’d recently Googled whether a childhood illness going around my kids’ school was a risk to a pregnant friend. My query was something like ‘does x toddler disease put you at risk if you’re pregnant.’ Do you want to know what AI said back in that allegedly helpful AI Overview on Google?
If your toddler is pregnant you should see your doctor to make sure they’re not at higher risk.
Take a minute to let that sink in.
Anyway, I was quite ranty at book club about how kak AI is, but my central point with regard to reading and writing was this — AI cannot read or hear. AI can only process and generate text.
So AI cannot sense the rhythm of a sentence, and it can only filter from what has already been written (predominantly in English) in order to ‘create’ a piece of writing. I committed to the group that I’d go home and ask AI to write me a poem about wombs and we’d see how kak they were.
And I was right.
Here’s the AI poem about Wombs from ChatGPT.
Before the tongue learns language,
before the lungs bargain for air,
there is the womb—
a dark red chapel
where becoming hums softly to itself.
There, time is not counted in clocks
but in tides:
the pulse of blood,
the slow opening of fingers,
the moonlike turning of cells toward a face.
The womb remembers
what the world forgets—
that every life begins in water,
floating between silence and song,
held without needing to earn it.
It is not merely an organ.
It is a first country.
A hidden orchard.
A room stitched from flesh and miracle
where bones are persuaded into being.
Inside it,
a heart sparks like struck flint.
A spine curls like a question mark.
Tiny heels drum against the walls
as if rehearsing for earth.
And even when empty,
the womb is not vacant.
It keeps echoes.
Ancient griefs.
Unborn names.
The memory of every door it has opened.
Some call it fragile.
Yet it survives generations—
war, hunger, longing, loss—
still making room
for tomorrow.
If holiness exists anywhere in the body,
perhaps it lives there:
in that hidden chamber
where darkness does not mean absence,
but creation waiting for its hour.
And here’s the poem about wombs from Claude:
Claude’s poem:
*The First Country*
Before the first word,
before the first light pressed
against the lid of an eye—
there was this:
a country without borders,
warm as held breath,
dark as the inside of a prayer.
Here, the body learns itself.
Finger by finger,
the architecture of a person
assembles in the quiet,
tided by a rhythm
not yet their own—
the drum of another’s heart,
faithful as a lighthouse.
What power lives here—
not in spite of its silence
but because of it.
The seed of every civilization,
every grief, every song ever sung
into an open window at dusk,
passed through this gate.
No cathedral was built
without first being held here.
No hand that ever reached
toward another in the dark
did not begin in this dark.
We forget it, the way we forget
the first language we ever heard—
not lost, exactly,
but folded somewhere deep,
a letter we carry
without knowing,
written before we had
a name for longing,
before we knew
what it meant
to leave.
Can you see what I see? Can you hear what I hear?
While at first glance for the non-poetry writing person these may seem works of creative genius, when you look at them next to each other you notice: repeated themes, repeated rhythms, repeated sentence lengths and … that they just feel boring. Compare this to a marvellous poem written by a real human and it’s just not the same. The human one is miles better because it is based in real feeling. Contrast this to me giving the same prompts to four different writers in the room on Saturday and their creation of four exquisite pieces about marital conflict, family tension, the banter between friends at a soccer match, and a funeral where the snacks were average. These pieces had energy, and feeling, and real sensory connections that allowed us as listeners to picture their scenes vividly.
Anyway, I just thought I’d share this for anyone who thought the time to become a writer had passed them by. It hasn’t. Please write.
Free workshops in Cape Town in July and August
In case you missed it I’m offering two free workshops at Bertha House in Cape Town in July and August. Sign ups are via a Google Form, and all the details can be found in the post below.
Thanks for reading this far. Hope to see you in a workshop soon!
Jen
xx