AI and Storytelling: The Journey Matters More Than the Big Reveal

Storytelling is an interplay between what the author, characters, and audience know at any given point

This article originally appeared on Substack.

Before I became an AI-curious digital content creator, I was an old-school reporter. My first offices were suffused with chemical smells: darkroom chemicals, ink, moldering newspapers stacked high on heavy metal shelves.

That’s why the 2015 movie Spotlight was a massive injection of nostalgia straight into my hindbrain.

To most who watched this movie, it was a period drama about the Spotlight investigative unit of the Boston Globe looking into the city’s Catholic priest sex abuse scandal in the late 1990s and early 2000s. The newspaper’s Pulitzer Prize-winning work led to hundreds of similar investigations worldwide.

To me, it was like stepping into a time machine. I was a small-town journalist, not a big-city metro desk player, but still, the details were all there.

I recognized the ring of the telephone and the brand of microcassette recorder the characters used. There were also those huge metal desks that would make an ergonomics consultant weep. Stacks and stacks of papers towered on every flat space in the office. These were the police reports, public records, and notes that informed the characters’ work.

I even saw my old Associated Press Stylebook and the little skinny reporter’s notebooks that fit in your back pocket—I still buy them today! I half-expected the editor to pull a bottle of bourbon from his desk to celebrate a win with his team. I kept such a bottle in the back of my desk and got to fill everyone’s paper cups exactly twice in the fifteen years I led newsrooms.

Order of Revelation

The most important throwback I enjoyed about Spotlight was how the story didn’t reveal anything the journalists didn’t yet know. The audience learns the big picture at the same time as the main characters. We only saw the words victims spoke to the press. The dramatic tension came from their reluctance to come forward, not from details revealed early in the plot.

This, of course, was a deliberate choice. The writers and director could have chosen instead to show us flashback scenes of abuse that the reporters would later uncover. They could have established the priests’ guilt and the Archbishop’s secret cover-up—but they didn’t. Instead, we rode along as observers fascinated as much by the investigative process as we were by the details of the case itself.

A highlight for me was when the reporters began looking at the church directories for the entire diocese over several years. They saw priest names removed from one church directory only to show up in another. It appeared to be evidence that the Archdiocese was reassigning abusive priests rather than calling attention to them by reporting them to the police.

Would a scene involving a stack of paper church directories be as exciting had there also been vivid, gut-wrenching scenes involving priests and children? Probably not, and we don’t need those flashbacks because the harrowing aftermath of the abuse still shows in the behavior of the victims the reporters track down and interview.

AI Misses the Process

Spotlight, in its methodical, paper-bound analog media world, calls out a problem I see in AI writing. It already knows how the story will end before it begins writing—and assumes you want to know, too. Producing the information you asked for is its only goal. It doesn’t automatically want to tell you a story that helps you build a foundation of understanding to add impact to the big reveal at the end.

I understand why this must be so. I have 20 years of pyramid-shaped story structure drilled into me. You begin with an enticing statement—a question, a surprise, an observation, anything to get the reader to care about the story. Then, you tell the reader what the story will be about.

At this point, the reader is fully informed about the facts and may either stop reading or continue filling in the details. A skillful newswriter would build in transitions—little breadcrumbs that hint at unsaid details that will be revealed later. However, the basic gist is up at the top, and each new detail is less important than the last. The reader can bail out at any point.

Pyramid-style writing helps editors fit stories into tight copy “holes” limited by the size of the paper on which it’s printed. This style influences blog writing, and you’ll see pyramids everywhere. A hook, a “nut graf” where everything is spelled out, and then organized, bite-sized sections that drive readers down into the story. It’s a structure that invites browsing and superficial reading, not deep appreciation.

Google reinforces this structure with its search engine optimization (SEO) standards, prioritizing an informative headline, a clear sense of the topic definition, and an organized story structure that its web-indexing bots can easily perceive.

Then comes consumer AI, with training data built upon billions of human words. The easiest ones to access? News archives and blog articles.

We accept this as readers because we’ve seen so much of it ourselves.

Remember the Journey

We call news articles “stories,” and they can sometimes contain rich characterizations and settings. A sharp newsroom editor, however, would “cut the fluff” and trim out details that don’t support the story’s main purpose.

But then context also matters. A story about a city council meeting probably wouldn’t mention the dress the mayor wore. A story about her visit to the Kentucky Derby would certainly remark on her fancy hat and gloves.

But people read for different reasons than to be quickly informed. Besides being a journalist, I also have two degrees in English. I know what makes a good story work and I understand how audiences respond to different genres of writing.

A story about an archaeology dig might introduce the principal investigator, lead you through a central discovery they’re hoping to make, give you a sense of the physical space of the site, and, at the same time, introduce you to team members. When they finally make the discovery, you’ll feel like you’re part of the team and enjoy the success alongside them. You also get a sense of how the discovery helps build upon the larger sense of scientific understanding.

But this isn’t automatic. Here’s how Google Gemini followed a basic one-shot prompt for a fictional dig:

Prompt: Write me a 200-word news story about an archaeology dig. Be creative about your choice of details.

Ancient Martian Civilization Unearthed in Sahara Desert

Timbuktu, Mali - In a discovery that shatters our understanding of history and our place in the cosmos, archaeologists in the Sahara Desert have unearthed compelling evidence of an ancient civilization originating not on Earth, but on Mars. A network of subterranean chambers, hidden beneath the shifting sands for millennia, has yielded a treasure trove of artifacts that point to a Martian exodus thousands of years ago.

Professor Amina Diallo, leading an international team of experts, described the find as "paradigm-shifting."

"We were initially excavating a suspected ancient settlement," she explained, "but the deeper we dug, the stranger the artifacts became. We found tools and machinery crafted from materials unknown on Earth, alongside holographic records depicting a dying planet and a desperate journey across the stars."

These holographic records, currently being analyzed by linguists and computer scientists, paint a picture of a sophisticated Martian civilization grappling with environmental collapse. Faced with extinction, they embarked on a daring mission to find a new home, eventually settling on Earth. The records suggest that these Martian refugees may have integrated with early human societies, sharing their knowledge and technology, and potentially influencing the course of human development.

Among the most astonishing discoveries is a perfectly preserved Martian body, found within a stasis chamber deep within the complex. Preliminary analysis reveals physiological adaptations consistent with life on Mars, including larger lungs, denser bones, and eyes sensitive to a wider spectrum of light.

Dr. David Chen, a NASA astrobiologist consulting on the project, expressed his awe. "This is extraordinary. To have a Martian individual right here, allowing us to study their biology and understand their adaptations, is beyond anything we could have hoped for."

The dig site, now declared a UNESCO World Heritage Site, is teeming with activity. Archaeologists, linguists, geneticists, and astrophysicists from around the globe have converged on Timbuktu, eager to contribute to this monumental undertaking. Every day brings new revelations: intricate murals depicting Martian landscapes, advanced medical instruments, and enigmatic energy sources that defy current scientific understanding.

The implications of this discovery are profound. It rewrites our history, challenges our assumptions about life in the universe, and raises tantalizing questions about the influence of this Martian civilization on human evolution.

As Professor Diallo stated, "This is just the beginning. We have only scratched the surface of this incredible find. The Sahara Desert, once thought to be a barren wasteland, now holds the key to unlocking the secrets of two worlds."

Analysis

It’s interesting and contains strong details, but it follows the standard news format. I get an immediate sense of impact, quotes from the PI and from a NASA expert. I don’t know much about their scientific process or the other team members involved.

I’ll add the story structure I imagined earlier to see how it improves.

Prompt: Rewrite this story to the same length but with the following in mind: A story about an archaeology dig might introduce the principal investigator, lead you through a central discovery they’re hoping to make, give you a sense of the physical space of the site, and, at the same time, introduce you to team members. When they finally make the discovery, you’ll feel like you’re part of the team and enjoy the success alongside them. You also get a sense of how the discovery helps build upon the larger sense of scientific understanding.

Whispers from the Red Planet

Timbuktu, Mali - The Sahara wind whipped Dr. Amina Diallo's hair across her face as she surveyed the excavation.

Sun beat down on the endless dunes, baking the sand to a fine powder that swirled with every gust. The air vibrated with heat, shimmering with mirages that danced on the horizon.

Here, in this crucible of extremes, Dr. Diallo and her team chipped away at the secrets buried beneath the Sahara's unforgiving surface. Rumors of a lost city, whispers of a civilization not of this world, had drawn them to this desolate corner of Mali.

Dr. Diallo, her skin bronzed from years under the desert sun, traced the outline of a newly unearthed wall with her fingers. The stone, a deep ochre flecked with quartz, pulsed with the heat absorbed throughout the day.

Beside her, Dr. Chen, the NASA astrobiologist, crouched low to the ground, his magnifying glass hovering over a shard of metal. The shard, unearthed just moments before, gleamed with an unnatural iridescence, its surface etched with symbols that defied immediate recognition.

The clang of pickaxes against stone echoed through the dig site, punctuated by the scrape of trowels and the excited shouts of the team. Each unearthed artifact – a carved bone tool, a fragment of obsidian mirror, a clay tablet inscribed with an unfamiliar script – pulsed with the weight of a forgotten history. As the sun began its descent, casting long shadows across the dig site, a cry erupted from the far end of the excavation.

"Dr. Diallo! Come quickly!"

A young archaeologist, his face flushed with exertion and excitement, beckoned her towards a newly uncovered chamber. The air within the chamber hung heavy and still, carrying the scent of dust and time. The walls, smooth and polished, shimmered with an otherworldly luminescence. And at the center of the chamber, encased within a crystalline structure, lay a figure.

The figure, humanoid in form, bore features both familiar and alien. Its skin, a pale grey, stretched taut over elongated limbs. Its eyes, large and black, seemed to absorb the meager light. A hush fell over the team as Dr. Diallo approached the crystalline structure, her breath catching in her throat. This was no earthly being. This was a visitor from the stars.

The discovery sent tremors through the archaeological world and beyond. Newspapers blared headlines of "Martian Mummy Found in Sahara!" and "Lost Civilization Unearthed!" The Sahara, once synonymous with emptiness, now overflowed with possibility.

Dr. Diallo, standing at the precipice of a paradigm shift, knew that this was just the beginning. The whispers from the red planet had begun to speak, and the world would never be the same.

Analysis

This version is grounded in the grit and heat of the setting. It features other characters, but they’re all present in the same location. There’s a sense of cultural impact, but it’s held at arm’s length—the focus remaining on the team in Timbuktu.

I had to make a couple of refinements to get it here. The first attempt was about an entirely different dig in South America. I focused it on the one before. It was also full of fluffy, abstract adjectives and the “Not X, but Y” sentence construction AI often falls into.

Still, in a couple of tries, I had a compelling narrative that was more worthy of National Geographic than the Washington Post.

You Are the Author

As an AI content creator, you are always in the driver’s seat. A large language model will spit out an acceptable blog article that might get SEO search rankings, but it will also likely follow familiar forms. Ask for a blog article, it’ll be pyramid style. Ask for a social video script, it will sound like the millions of videos that have already been streamed.

But if you know why an effective story works and can put it into words, you can include these instructions in the prompt. You can hone and focus the narrative to suit your tastes and audience impact. You can be the director of a movie who recognizes something not quite “there” yet and asks for another take.

For instance:

Prompt: Redo the story about the Mali dig. This time, tell the story entirely from Dr. Diallo's informal first-person point of view, full of exhaustion and anticipation. Through flashbacks, explain the stakes of this discovery. What happens if she fails? How does she feel about the other characters? The time frame of this story is 10 minutes before they make their breakthrough.

Whispers from the Red Planet

God, my back is killing me. Ten years digging in this blasted desert, and I swear, my spine's turned to sand. But forget the sun trying to fry my brain. This is it. This has to be it.

I squint at Chen, hunched over another piece of… whatever that is. Seriously, the man's a walking encyclopedia of extraterrestrial whatnots, but ask him to identify a date palm and he'll probably start rambling about Martian botany. Still, wouldn’t trade him for the world. His excitement, that crazy glint in his eye, it's kinda contagious, y'know? Keeps the rest of us from losing our minds in this endless sea of sand.

Maria's waving at me now, that kid's got the energy of a hyperactive jackrabbit. Probably found another shard of pottery. We've got enough pottery shards to open a museum, for crying out loud! But hey, gotta keep the enthusiasm up, right? Fake it till you make it, that's my motto. Though if I see one more goddamn lizard skeleton…

Ten years. Ten years I've staked my reputation on this crazy dream. Ten years of battling bureaucrats, begging for funding, ignoring the snickers of those armchair archaeologists who think "real discoveries" only happen in tombs with pharaohs and piles of gold. If I come back empty-handed this time… well, let's just say retirement wouldn't be a choice, it'd be a forced eviction from the academic world.

But it's more than that, isn't it? It's about proving them all wrong. It's about showing the world that history is more than just dusty textbooks and crumbling statues. It's about… hell, it's about finding out we're not alone in this damn universe.

My throat's parched. Must've guzzled down my water hours ago. Focus, Amina, focus. Can't afford to pass out now. Not when we're this close.

Wait. Maria's not just waving, she's practically bouncing off the dunes. And that look in her eyes… that's not the "found another potsherd" look. That's the "holy crap, we hit the jackpot" look.

My heart starts hammering against my ribs. This is it. This is the moment. I push past the gawking students, my boots sinking into the sand, each step heavy with anticipation. And there it is.

A chamber, sealed with a door covered in carvings that seem to writhe and whisper in the fading light. An unnatural stillness hangs in the air, thick with the weight of centuries. My breath catches in my throat. This isn't just a tomb. This is a time capsule. This is… everything.

Analysis

Wow, you’re right there inside her head. You get a sense of how she feels, her thirst, her relationship with the other characters. Still, AI needs to be better about its “Not X but Y” constructions:

• “…retirement wouldn't be a choice, it'd be a forced eviction…”
• “Maria’s not just waving, she's practically bouncing off the dunes.”
• “This isn't just a tomb. This is a time capsule.”

Writing with AI goes beyond typing one word at a time on a keyboard, like the investigative team back at the Boston Globe. However, we must remember that audiences still experience media as a linear stream.

They don’t get to read your chapter outline, the agenda of the meeting you covered, or the questions you ask on your podcast.

We’re still constructing an experience, and you have a rich history of 100s of different forms. I could have made Dr. Diallo’s discovery a “quest” story, a scientific procedural, a competition with another team, or the resolution of childhood trauma (see the movie Contact).

I am firmly convinced that human writers and human experiences must inform naturalistic AI writing. We need massive amounts of real-world context to achieve specificity and detailed guidelines that help LLMs understand the narrowly defined approach we intend.

AI prompt engineers might also need double majors in English literature or creative writing.

STEM, meet the humanities.