Tag Archives: Florida

The moral hazard of AI (no, it’s not the apocalypse)

Posted on by under Authors, Books, Creativity, Editing, Fiction, Innovation, Nonfiction, Novel, Photography, Technology, Writers, Writing

I just received a note that Narrative magazine’s Spring 2026 Story Contest is accepting entries. Narrative winners and finalists have won Pulitzer and Pushcart Prizes, as well as placement in high-profile anthologies. In addition to publishing emerging writers, the magazine says it reaches a worldwide audience of 325,000 readers. It’s good market for literary writers.

Unless you’re using artificial intelligence, or AI. Narrative’s contest guidelines end with a single sentence: “We do not accept work that includes machine-generated text.”

For authors and other creatives tempted to enhance their work with AI, the writing is on the wall: Using Large Language Models (LLM) like ChatGPT, Claude, Gemini, CoPilot and others to research and critique your work is acceptable. Using those services to generate content is not. (We’ll talk about the use of AI in photography in a bit.)

Commercial publishing

Where do commercial publishing houses stand on the use of AI??

According to Microsoft’s CoPilot, Penguin Random House UK advises writers that AI is not a substitute for human imagination and that AI tools may be used selectively but with caution. PRH, which only accepts manuscripts through literary agents, offers no specific advice for authors on the use of LLMs on either its U.S. or UK sites.

At business and academic publisher Wiley, authors may only use AI technology as a companion to their writing process, not a replacement. “As always, authors must take full responsibility for the accuracy of all content, and verify that all claims, citations, references, and analyses are aligned with their expertise and research,” Wiley states on the AI guidelines page of its website.

Authors must also document their use of AI tools and “disclose the use of AI technologies when submitting their material to a Wiley-published journal.”

The Authors Guild offers a model clause for contracts between authors and publishers that discourages the use of machine-generated text in a work. “Author shall not be required to use generative AI or to work from AI-generated text. Author shall disclose to Publisher if any AI-generated text is included in the submitted manuscript, and may not include more than [a de minimis/5%] AI-generated text.”

Self-publishing

For independently published writers, Amazon—the world’s largest platform for self-published books—requires a disclosure for those who used AI to create their work. The company’s content guidelines for books released through its Kindle Direct Publishing (KDP) arm offers this warning:

“We require you to inform us of AI-generated content (text, images, or translations) when you publish a new book or make edits to and republish an existing book through KDP. AI-generated images include cover and interior images and artwork. You are not required to disclose AI-assisted content. We distinguish between AI-generated and AI-assisted content as follows:

“AI-generated: We define AI-generated content as text, images, or translations created by an AI-based tool. If you used an AI-based tool to create the actual content (whether text, images, or translations), it is considered “AI-generated,” even if you applied substantial edits afterwards.

“AI-assisted: If you created the content yourself, and used AI-based tools to edit, refine, error-check, or otherwise improve that content (whether text or images), then it is considered “AI-assisted” and not “AI-generated.” Similarly, if you used an AI-based tool to brainstorm and generate ideas, but ultimately created the text or images yourself, this is also considered “AI-assisted” and not “AI-generated.” It is not necessary to inform us of the use of such tools or processes.”

Why does that matter? Because, according to wordsrated.com, Amazon releases more than 1.4 million self‑published books each year.

Photography

Photographers are also grappling with the use of AI, with organizations disqualifying from competition images that use generative AI. Contests run by the Florida Camera Club Council (FCCC) allow the use of AI to remove noise (what film photographers call grain) and other distractions from images but forbid the machine generation of images.

FCCC’s contest rules are simple: if you add something to an image you did not photograph, that photograph may not quality for competition.

“Every part of an image must be the maker’s own work,” FCCC says on its website. “Artificial Intelligence or Al cannot be used to add elements to an image that were not taken by the maker. Al functions such as denoising, healing, sharpening, expanding canvas are allowed, as long as Al generated objects, people, or other elements are not introduced into the image. Makers may be asked to submit original images prior to approval.”

Why does this matter? Because people expect an artform that began its life documenting reality to provide them with visual truth, and organizations like FCCC, which screen entries from some 50 independent camera clubs throughout the state, have become the gatekeepers of that tradition. FCCC is not alone. There are thousands of photography clubs operating in the United States, according to DuckDuckGo’s search assistant. Microsoft’s CoPilot puts the number at 700.

Moral hazard

The same ethical considerations apply to writing. Using AI tools for research is OK, as long as writers follow the traditional rules of authorship and disclose the source. Using those tools to create words and images from the ether is also acceptable, as long as we disclose that fact, although it does create a moral hazard where corporations take risks for which others—writers, photographers and other creatives whose work is appropriated to train these applications—pay the price.

We’ll let the bots have the next-to-last word.

“The benefits of AI tools for creatives are surprisingly broad and often transformative,” according to ChatGPT (prompt: what are the benefits to creatives of using AI tools?). “AI can offer prompts, variations, or even complete drafts that help kickstart human creativity. While AI is powerful, it’s not a replacement for human creativity.”

As long as we’re transparent.

Open circuit: no generative AI used to make this photo I took of a circuit board.

Now Hear This

Posted on by under Authors, Books, e-books, Fiction, mystery, real estate, suspense

All five books in the CW McCoy/Walter Bishop series of mystery novels are now available in audio from Amazon. And all at less than $10 a piece, a third of the usual cost.

The series follows former police officer and real estate agent Candace McCoy as she tries to balance career and crime with the care of her grandfather. The setting will be familiar to many—a tony beach town remarkably similar to the twin Florida cities of Sarasota and Bradenton.

You’ll find audio, e-book, and paperback versions of the novels here:

Faces of the Fair Part 2

Posted on by under Photography

Who goes to a county fair these days? Apparently a lot of people—140,000 attended last year’s Sarasota County Fair, according to its website. While the swirling lights of the rides attract our attention, it’s the people who enjoy those rides that make these fairs memorable.

Here’s a smattering of images from Saturday’s event. Enjoy the view.

Faces of the Fair Part 1

Posted on by under Photography

What’s the first thing you notice when you enter a county fair? The Ferris wheel? The sausage stand? The lines for the restroom?

How about the people who work the Sarasota County Fair? They’re friendly. They’re agreeable. And they make the experience a memorable one.

Here’s how these folks spent their Saturday night.

Trial by Fire

Posted on by under Books, e-books, Fiction, mystery, Novel, real estate, suspense, thriller

In her fifth outing (after Permanent Vacation), former detective-turned-real-estate-agent CW McCoy rushes headlong into her most troubling case, one that will change her life forever. With Burning Man, she faces the greatest challenge of all—coming to terms with a past that continues to blaze.

Here’s the opening chapter:

I WOKE TO the smell of danger. It seeped through the floorboards and pushed under the door and crawled into my bed. It stung my eyes and clogged my nose and tasted sour as an old penny. There was another smell, too, like the time Mommy turned on the stove and forgot to light it and my brother made a joke about the house blowing up.

It was four days before Christmas, a Saturday and the start of our holiday vacation, mine from kindergarten, Colton’s from second grade, although it didn’t feel like Christmas, because there was no snow. Daddy had just put up the lights, too many, Mommy said. He’d stood on a ladder and hung them over the windows while Mommy stood on the sidewalk below, her arms crossed, telling him not to burn down the house.

This smell felt wrong. Like the time Daddy lit a fire and forgot to open the flap in the chimney, and the smoke tumbled out in swirling stripes, as if it were trying to escape. The smell was dry as the newspapers he pushed beneath the twigs, the logs making a high, hissing sound as if they were hurt by the flames.

My parents had gone to a party. They should have been back. They should have come in to check.

The light that came through the curtains made a square on the wooden floor. Beneath the door, the smoke went in and out as if something in the hall was breathing, alive, coming after me. A lizard with a flame for a tongue or the lady with her hair full of snakes. Or burglars. Daddy was always talking about burglars. Colt would say it was a dragon, breathing fire and smoke as it hunted for little children to cook and eat, but then he liked to scare me.

The smoke stung my eyes and hurt my head. I couldn’t swallow. But I had to warn everyone. And I had to see what was in the hall.

Sliding from bed, knocking over the lamp and a gold cup with curly handles that said I could count to twenty, I crept toward the door. The floor felt warm. I reached for the knob. It turned, but the door wouldn’t open. I rattled and pulled and yanked as hard as I could, but the door wouldn’t budge. I banged on it and yelled for Colt, whose bedroom was across from mine, but no one answered. I put my ear to the keyhole, but I couldn’t hear the voices I’d heard earlier, just before I’d fallen asleep. Angry voices.

Smoke curled over my feet and crept up my pajamas. Like a dusty hand, it pushed me toward the bed. Tripping over the lamp, I crawled under the quilt Nana had made for me, the one with a picture of Snoopy on his doghouse, and stared at the door, daring the monster in the hall to break it down. Its gray breath grew dark, rolling up the wall and across the ceiling. It warmed the air and stuffed my nose and made my tongue stick to the top of my mouth.

From the street below, I heard a siren and the honk honk of horns.

The smoke changed from gray to yellow-brown. It rose through the cracks in the floor and reached over the bed. My chest felt as if someone had me in a bear hug, but I would not go with the smoke. I would climb out the window and come back through the front door and run up the stairs to wake Colton. And together we would save our parents.

Pulling the quilt over my shoulders, I stumbled to the window and tried to lift it, but the window was stuck. I pounded the latch with my hands, but the latch wouldn’t budge.

The sirens got louder, and then they stopped. Red lights flashed across the window. From the street, I heard honking and shouting and the rattle of something as it scraped against the house. Then a dark shape holding a long stick appeared in the window and ducked out of sight, so I wouldn’t know what it was doing. It raised the stick and used it to smash the window and ran it around the edge, the glass flying into the curtains and bouncing across the floor. The shape had a big head that stuck out in the back and a mask like divers wore in the ocean. That’s where its breath came from, the smoke, how it blew it under the door into my room. And because the door was locked, it had climbed up the side of the house. It put a foot on the window and another on the floor and, setting the stick against the wall, stuck out its big black hands and moved toward me.

My ears stung. My heart hurt. My mouth felt as dry as paper. Falling back into the quilt, I cried for help, but nothing came out.

The dark shape wore a raincoat and gloves and had a hump on its back. As it got closer, I saw that it wasn’t a monster but a man, a fireman. He was saying something from inside his mask, but I couldn’t hear. He stomped across the floor and, like the smoke, reached for me. I got scared. I couldn’t leave before I found Colton and Mom and Dad. As I backed against the bed, my hand landed on the cup. I couldn’t stop whatever was still in the hall, Colt would have to do that, but I could stop the man. Raising the cup over my head, I rose to my knees and swung as hard as I could.

But the man was too fast. Wrapping me in the quilt, he threw me over his shoulder and lifted me through the window. I couldn’t breathe and began pounding on his hump. Opening my eyes, I looked down a ladder at firetrucks and flashing lights and people dragging big fans through our front door. The ladder bounced. I felt dizzy. The lights hurt my eyes. The man’s foot slipped.

Just when I thought he would drop me, my cellphone rang.

—

Burning Man is available through bookstores and online at Amazon, Apple Books, Barnes & Noble, Kobo and Smashwords. You can find all of the books in the Candace McCoy series, plus other works of fiction and nonfiction, at my author page on Amazon.

An unhappy family like no other

Posted on by under Books, e-books, Fiction, mystery, Novel, suspense, thriller

Did CW McCoy’s father kill her mother and brother and nearly take her life? The question has haunted the former detective for nearly thirty years. When friend and mentor Walter Bishop discovers that police have arrested a suspect, CW reluctantly revisits her roots to uncover the hard truth about her family—no matter the cost.

Confronted by hostile sources and a city ravaged by a string of arsons, CW questions everything she’s come to believe about that night. Did her father commit the crime, or was he framed? Did he disappear, or was he murdered? And what about her own history with conflict? Does the family’s violent streak run in her veins, too?

In her fifth outing (after Permanent Vacation), CW rushes headlong into her most troubling case, one that will change her life forever. With Burning Man, she faces the greatest challenge of all—coming to terms with a past that continues to blaze.

Burning Man is available through bookstores and online at Amazon, Apple Books, Barnes & Noble, Kobo and Smashwords.

For business, the high cost of high tide

Posted on by under Books, Business, Commerce, Culture, e-books, Housing, mystery, Novel, real estate, suspense, thriller

The tide is shifting. The debate over global warming has moved from theoretical to practical. As in, what is the cost of climate change to businesses and, eventually, to all of us?

Real estate agents find themselves at the heart of the issue. Anything that affects property values affects their livelihood. So it’s encouraging to see a call to action from one of their own.

Craig Foley, chair of the National Association of Realtors’ Sustainability Advisory Group, says that ignoring the impact of climate change on real estate has serious business implications. “Particularly in coastal areas, members have told me both they and their clients are worried about declining property values and buyer interest.” The piece, entitled “We Don’t Have 50 Years to Wait,” appears in the March/April 2019 issue of Realtor magazine.

In case you think that’s the hype of tree-huggers, Foley backs his observation with well-credentialed statistics. “Researchers at the University of Colorado at Boulder and Pennsylvania State University compared properties that are similar except for their proximity to the sea and found that the more exposed homes sold for 6.6 percent less than the others during the sample period from 2007 to 2016.”

Foley ends his commentary with this thought: “As I see it, we can’t afford to be on the wrong side of history on climate change.”

That captures a core issue of Permanent Vacation, a novel in which the protagonist, real estate agent CW (Candace) McCoy, discovers that encouraging construction in a flood zone is a sure way to sink a career.

You can read Foley’s commentary here. If you buy or sell real estate and have a comment on this or any other issue, you’re welcome leave it here as well.

 

 

 

A rising tide floats all buildings

Posted on by under Authors, Books, Business, Commerce, Culture, e-books, Fiction, Housing, mystery, Novel, suspense, thriller, tourism

Sometimes reality catches up with fiction.

Yesterday, a Florida Senate committee advanced legislation that would require the state to plan for rising seas. The action comes after storm surge has repeatedly flooded parts of Miami and threatened its infrastructure.

The proposed legislation is unique in that it avoids the politically divisive issue of climate change and addresses the economic aspect of rising sea levels.

Lawmakers aren’t alone in considering the financial impact of coastal development. The economics, and ethics, of building in flood zones form the central premise of Permanent Vacation, a novel set in a fictionalized version of Sarasota and Bradenton, Florida, both of which border the Gulf of Mexico. Central to that issue is whether governments should encourage or discourage behavior that puts people and property at risk.

Permanent Vacation is available from Amazon, Apple Books, Barnes & Noble, Kobo and Smashwords. You can read the story about Florida lawmakers here.