The audio voice isn't hers. And, as one expert in the field of digitalization pointed out, the image, created from video footage or photos, is essentially a “deepfake.” This altered image of Christie says things that she may not have uttered, were she instructing the class.
Such irony, especially now, as lawsuits abound against tech companies such as Facebook/Meta, which have been using books to train A.I. without approval from—let alone compensation for—the legions of authors' whose copyrights they've violated—
Mine included.
Having a deepfake “Agatha Christie”—even one sanctioned by her rights-owning family—that blithely insists it can teach you to write like her leaves me mortified.
Or, as Joan Cusack's character, Cyn, pointed out in the film Working Girl: “Sometimes I sing and dance around the house in my underwear. Doesn't make me Madonna. Never will.”
Here's the thing about human-created stories:
The reader isn't just delving into a plot, or falling in love with a character. The true joy readers get from books is the knowledge that another human took a tremendous amount of time and effort to create a story that entertains us.
In those few precious hours we spend getting lost in a book, its story takes us in its thrall. The manner in which the author structured their novel—weaving nuance and eloquence with details that allow us to visualize the who, what, where, when, and how—is why we seek out their next book, and the next one, and the next one.
To authors, creating a story is akin to solving a Rubik's Cube. For the pieces to fall into place, you must map your story so that the reader can't wait to move through the world you've created. You must pace your story so that you surprise your readers with its twists and turns.
Best yet, they won't want the story to end.
It's why they write the author and thank them. Or why they show up at book signings to shake the hand of the person who has given them so many hours of pleasure.
