At the height of his powers, and perhaps his amphetamine habit, legendary sci-fi author Philip K. Dick cranked out around thirty novels in two decades, along with what was probably several hundred short stories. These included enormously influential classics like “Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep,” “The Man in the High Castle,” and “A Scanner Darkly” — all the work of a man whose eclectic imagination was matched only by his paranoia, which forced him to constantly probe the nature of reality itself and our easily-manipulated ability to perceive it.
When their output reshapes entire genres and perhaps even pop culture at large, a writer’s prolificacycan fill us with awe. How can so much come out of one mind? But now, in an age of AI slop, quantity and speed simply arouses suspicion, because AI chatbots can help anyone produce the output of a PKD or a Stephen King. Graphomania used to require writers to write.
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