I went to a shocking book signing last night.

My spouse knew this guy tangentially and thought it would be a fun outing.

We get there, buy a $45 copy and the man smiles and asks if we’d like anything special signed. Finally, after he signs everyone’s copies, he goes up to the front with a moderator to discuss the book and take questions.

About 100 people are there, sitting in the auditorium.

As he begins talking with the moderator, I casually open the book while sitting near the back.

And instantly realized, “Oh wow—this entire book was written with ChatGPT.”

Cover to cover. No matter where I looked, it was the crystal clear and obvious signs of AI writing (which I later confirmed with a detector).

Compounding matters, the author’s discussion with the moderator and Q&A with the audience was an absolute disaster. It was like watching a kid take a test he didn’t study for. He had no cohesive or fluent thoughts on the subject he’d written on. Even his body language was terrible. He was shriveling and closed up, not exuding the confidence an author typically has to discuss their work.

I was dying inside, and actually felt bad for the guy on some level.

But then I realized, “This guy actually has a lot of nerve.”

He brought us all here, charged us an entrance fee, signed copies, took pictures with readers with his book like a celebrity.

But he’d never even written the book.

There’s an old saying, “In order to write a book, you must first become the book.”

And because he didn’t actually write the book, he wasn’t able to speak coherently to it. His lack of effort showed.

If there’s anything positive about this incident, it’s that we have a very memorable story, and an artifact (the book), of this period of time and the audacity people have with their content. And, we’ll always have a story to share with friends.

I am content knowing that this book won’t go far, and that true writers, who live and breathe their material, will always bring a superior product to readers.