Could the next Ernest Hemingway or Jane Austen be a well-engineered Al software program? It's a question becoming increasingly pressing as machine language-learning software continues to evolve.

Much of this is just nerves. Today's Al creative writing programs are not yet at a stage of development where they pose a serious threat to Colleen Hoover or Charles Dickens. But while attention continues to for us on the possibility of a blanket takeover of human literature by Al, far less consideration has been given to the prospect of Al co-working with humans.

Earlier this month, American sci-fi writer Ken Liu, who had been awarded Hugo and Nebula to his name, joined 12 other professional authors for a writing workshop on Google's Word craft. This Al tool, a language generating model, is not yet publicly available but is advertised as an AI-powerel writing assistant that can, when given the right instruction from the writer, provide helpful descriptions, create lists of objects or emotional states, and even brainstorm ideas.

The writers at the workshop, however, emerged with mixed reports. "Word craft is too sensible. Wow!"Robin Sloan wrote. "But‘sensible'is another word for predictable, overused and boring. My intention here is to produce something unexpected. "

I'm unconvinced that writers awarded the Nobel Prize have much to fear from Al. Their work, and that of countless other rnove lists, short story writers, dramatists and poets, is too particular, too beautifully unique. Even if a model learned what they had done in the past, it would not be able to predict where their creativity might take them in the future. But for authors who write following a pattern, Al might step in, first as assistants before some day to authorship.

Production-line novels are nothing new. In the 1970s, Barbara Cartland, who wrote more than 723 books in her lifetime, many of which are romance bestsellers, would read her novels for her secretary to type up at the remarkable rate of roughly seven chapters a week. But already machine has replaced the secretary's role. Perhaps creative writing software isn't that far from replacing the Mrs. Cartlands of today.

If you've ever taken a class in drawing, painting or pottery and in spite of your best effort, couldn't make the final result look anything like the model shown, you may have thought, "I don't have a creative bone in my body."

According to some scientists, who have researched the subject of creativity for the past 20 years, you are underrating yourself. Da Vinci you may never be, but when it comes to creativity, we are all somewhat blessed. It's learning to develop this unique tool of extraordinary productivity, and then applying it in everything you do, that counts to tell you from figures like Da Vinci.

"Even if we don't have the good fortune to discover a new chemical element or write a great story, the love of the creative process for its own sake is available to all," says Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi in Creativity: Flow and Psychology of Discovery and Invention.

Most people believe the word "creativity" has been awarded to those considered to have special talent. We look upon these "creative geniuses", as we often call them, with awe and a bit of envy. Their abilities, most people assume, are given by good genes, or, as if in Greek mythology, from some kind of divine(神圣的) inspiration.

There is no argument that the world is never short of highly talented and creative people. They are masters of their trades and stand heads-and-shoulders above commoners, making new pathways for others to follow, and providing greater context and understanding of our world. It could be said that without creativity humanity would not evolve so rapidly.

But like a publicly recognized creative baseball player who improves his skill through years of continuous training, foregoing other pursuits for his chosen passion, people who show the slightest unwillingness for constant efforts are bound to witness their blessed ability disappear.

After closely studying 91 creative and influential people, including novelists, playwrights, composers, musicians and scientists, Csikszentmihalyi concludes that no one would ignore the sweat they shed and their determination to follow their creative endeavor to the very end, wherever that may be. These are the very things we all can master, so long as we'd like to.

Proudly reading my words, I looked around the room, only to find my classmates bearing big smiles on their faces and tears in their eyes and Miss Lancelot stone-faced. I slowly raised the report, hoping to hide myself and burning to find out "What could be causing everyone to act this way?"

Quickly, I flashed back to the day Miss Lancelot gave me the task. This was the first real task I received in my new school. It seemed simple: go on the Internet and find information about a man named George Washington. Since my idea of history came from an ancient teacher in my home country, I had never heard of that name before. As I searched the name of this fellow, it became evident that there were two people bearing the same name who looked completely different! One invented hundreds of uses for peanuts, while the other led some sort of army across America. I stared at the screen, wondering which one my teacher meant. I called my grandfather for a golden piece of advice: flip (掷) a coin. Heads—the commander, and tails—the peanuts guy. Ah! Tails, my report would be about the great man who invented peanut butter, George Washington Carver.

When another classmate began his report, it all became clear, "My report is on George Washington, the man who started the American Revolution." How could I know that she meant that George Washington?

Obviously, my grade was awful. Heartbroken but fearless, I talked to Miss Lancelot, but she insisted: no re-dos; no new grade. I felt that the punishment was not justified, and I believed I deserved a second chance. Consequently, I threw myself heartily into my work for the rest of the school year. Ten months later, that chance unfolded as I found myself sitting in the headmaster's office with my grandfather and the headmaster informed me of his approval that I could skip the sixth grade. Justice is sweet!