How I Trained AI to Write Like Me (Not the Other Way Around)
50+ forbidden words. 11 style rules. 4 character voice profiles. One principle: the AI serves the author.
Most people think AI-assisted writing means typing a prompt and hitting enter.
Here is what it actually looks like when you take it seriously.
The Forbidden Words
Before any AI touches my manuscript, it has to follow rules. The first rule is a wall of words that are banned by default.
These are real. These are enforced in every single writing session. But here is an important nuance: banned does not mean never. It means the AI cannot use these words automatically. If a word serves a deliberate purpose in a specific scene, I can choose to allow it. The difference is intention. When I write "towering" in the manuscript, it is because I decided that word earns its place in that sentence. When AI writes "towering," it is because it defaults to the laziest available adjective.
The ban forces the AI to find better words first. If the better word happens to be the banned one, used with purpose, then it stays.
Atmosphere and Tone — DEFAULT OFF
| Word | Rule |
|---|---|
| tapestry | Absolute ban. Zero uses in 181,000 words. The AI's worst crutch word — fully purged. |
| faint / dimmed / dim | Off by default. Used 120+ times in the manuscript — but only for specific physical sensations ("a faint crackle"), never as vague filler. |
| steady | Off by default. Used 179 times — for deliberate rhythm and action ("a steady rhythm that calmed him"), never as empty emotional shorthand. |
| stillness / "broke the stillness" | Off by default. Used 41 times — when actual silence matters to the scene, never as a lazy opener. |
| heavy / heavier / thickened | Off by default. Used 159 times — for real physical or emotional weight ("the words settled with a heavy weight"), never as generic atmosphere. |
| "breath caught" | Off by default. Used 25 times — only in moments of genuine shock or danger, never as a casual reaction. |
| dance / danced / dancing | Off by default for light/shadows/energy. Used 10 times — only literally (actual dancing) or referencing legend ("they sing about dancing tattoos"). |
| weaving / weaved / weave | Absolute ban as metaphor. Zero uses in 181,000 words. No one "weaves" through anything. |
| shifting / shift / shifted | Off by default. Used 103 times — central to how Thomas's tattoos behave ("they pulsed, shifting as if alive"). This word defines the magic system. |
Visual Descriptions — DEFAULT OFF
| Word | Rule |
|---|---|
| towering | Off by default. Used exactly 2 times in 181,000 words — extreme restraint proves the system works. |
| flickering / flickered | Off by default. Used 155 times — core to the magic system (blue flames, tattoos). Every use describes a specific visual event. |
| "glowing faintly" / "softly glowing" | Off by default. Used 8 times total — only when the glow itself is the point of the sentence. |
| rippling / ripple | Off by default. Used 70 times — for specific magical effects ("light rippled across the expanse in slow, fluid arcs"), never as generic simile. |
| swirling / swirl | Off by default. Used 38 times — tied to action and magic ("fireworks, swirling through the air before vanishing"), never as vague description. |
| shimmered / shimmering | Off by default. Used 120 times — reserved for genuine magic activation moments, never sprinkled as decoration. |
| mesmerizing | Off by default. Used 4 times in 486 pages — each one deliberate, describing something genuinely overwhelming. |
| melodious | Off by default. Used once. One time in 181,000 words. Describing birdsong in a specific scene. |
| vibrant | Off by default. Used 5 times — each describing a sudden, specific visual change, never as generic color word. |
Emotion Cliches — DEFAULT OFF
| Word | Rule |
|---|---|
| "breath caught" | (See above — 25 intentional uses in genuine shock moments.) |
| "heart skipped / hammered" | Off by default. Used 3 times total — "heart skipped" twice, "heart hammered" once during the most intense danger in the book. |
| "eyes widened" | Off by default. Used 17 times — only for genuine surprise, always paired with character-specific reactions. |
| "unease tightened / pressed / crept" | Off by default. When used, each instance is a different physical metaphor — no repetition within scenes. |
| "weight of..." | Off by default. Used 100 times — but always carrying real narrative meaning, never as lazy shorthand. |
| reverent / impossibly vast | "Reverent" used once. "Impossibly vast" — zero uses. Extreme restraint. |
Magic and Action — DEFAULT OFF
| Word | Rule |
|---|---|
| casting | Off by default for spells. Used 11 times — only for physical actions (casting shadows, casting light), never "casting a spell." |
| bending | Off by default. Used 11 times — for physical motion ("light bending and vanishing"), never as "bending magic." |
| "delicate machinery" metaphors | Absolute ban. Magic is physical and sensory, never mechanical. |
| "swirling vortex" | Absolute ban. Zero uses. Cliche beyond redemption. |
Special Rules
- "DIN" �� avoid entirely; harsh sound that does not match the tone
- Limit "as if" and "like" — no more than 2 simile constructions per paragraph
- Never stack 3+ adjectives of similar meaning for one action
That is over 50 banned words and phrases. And this list grew organically over 40 months — every time I noticed the AI falling into a pattern, I added it to the wall.
The Reality Check: What the Manuscript Actually Contains
Here is where it gets interesting. I ran every single forbidden word against my 181,000-word manuscript. The results tell the real story of how this system works.
3 words were fully eliminated — they never appear once in 486 pages:
- tapestry — zero uses. Completely purged. The AI's favorite crutch word is gone.
- weaving (as metaphor) — zero uses. No one "weaves through" anything.
- impossibly vast — zero uses. Lazy scale words have no place here.
28 words appear in the manuscript — intentionally. Here is the breakdown:
| Word | Times Used | Why It Earned Its Place |
|---|---|---|
| faint | 120 | Used for specific physical sensations: "a faint crackle," "a faint blue glow pulsed beneath his skin." Never as lazy atmosphere filler. |
| steady | 179 | Describes deliberate actions and sounds: "a steady rhythm that usually calmed him." Never as emotional shorthand like "a steady gaze." |
| flickered | 155 | Core to the magic system — tattoos and blue flames flicker as part of the story's visual identity. "Soft blue flames flickered along the edges of the path." Each use is earned. |
| shimmered | 120 | Reserved for moments of genuine magic activation: "they all shimmered in unison, as threads of luminous white energy started linking them together." Never sprinkled as decoration. |
| shifting | 103 | Central to how Thomas's tattoos behave — "they pulsed, shifting as if they were alive." This is character-defining movement, not filler. |
| heavy | 159 | Describes physical weight and emotional moments with purpose: "the words settled in his chest with a heavy weight." Never stacked as generic atmosphere. |
| ripple | 70 | Used for specific magical effects: "Bands of violet and gold light rippled across the expanse in slow, fluid arcs." Each ripple describes a visible phenomenon. |
| swirling | 38 | Tied to action and magic: "They popped and fizzled like miniature fireworks, swirling through the air." Never as vague description. |
| towering | 2 | Only twice in 181,000 words. Both times describing genuinely massive structures that needed that specific word. |
| breath caught | 25 | Used in moments of real shock or danger: "his breath caught in his throat, every nerve in his body screaming." Never as casual reaction. |
| eyes widened | 17 | Reserved for genuine surprise: "His eyes widened in shock." Sparingly used, never as default emotional beat. |
| weight of | 100 | Carries real narrative meaning: "the lingering weight of his gaze." Used when physical or emotional heaviness is the point of the sentence. |
| dancing | 10 | Only used literally (actual dancing) or in direct reference to legend: "they sing about dancing tattoos." Never for light or shadows. |
| mesmerizing | 4 | Four times in 486 pages. Each one deliberate, each one describing something genuinely overwhelming to the character. |
| melodious | 1 | Once. Describing birdsong in a specific scene. One use in 181,000 words. |
| vibrant | 5 | Five uses across the entire book. Each describing a sudden, specific visual change — never as generic decoration. |
| ethereal | 10 | Appears mostly in the book's title and world terminology. Never scattered as atmosphere filler. |
| casting | 11 | Used for physical actions (casting shadows, casting light) — never for "casting spells" or RPG terminology. |
| heart skipped | 2 | Twice. Both in moments of genuine emotional impact, not reflex. |
| heart hammered | 1 | Once. During the most intense moment of physical danger in the book. |
The pattern is clear: the forbidden words list does not eliminate words from existence. It eliminates lazy, automatic usage. Every appearance in the manuscript was a conscious choice — the word earned its place by being the best option for that specific moment, not the AI's default.
This is the difference between a banned list and a craft system. The ban creates friction. Friction creates intention. Intention creates voice.
The 11 Style Rules
Beyond forbidden words, every writing session follows a master style guide. These rules define how the book sounds.
1. Cinematic but Personal
Every scene feels like part of a larger, breathing world — but the perspective stays human and grounded. We stay close to the character's point of view. The world is experienced, not described.
2. Strong Sensory Details, Never Purple Prose
Use light, sound, warmth, textures. Keep descriptions vivid but never bloated. "The smell of roasted nuts and spiced wine" — not "the intoxicating aromatic symphony of the bustling marketplace."
3. Natural Dialogue
Characters speak like themselves, not like narrators. A 17-year-old does not use the same vocabulary as a 170-year-old dwarf scholar. Keep conversations reactive — each line responds to the last.
4. Emotions Through Physical Beats
Express emotions through breath catching, hands tightening, shoulders relaxing, pauses, inner thoughts. Never through melodrama. Every emotion must feel like a real person reacting in the moment.
5. Magic as Physical Sensation
Describe magic as physical, visual, and sensory — never abstract or technical. Tattoos and powers behave like sentient energy. Use: pulses, warmth, static, pressure, currents. Never: "casting," "bending," spell names, mana, cooldowns.
6. Lived-In World
Everything must feel used, real, and historical. Cultures, races, and locations must be distinct and grounded. Architecture and clothing reflect history and purpose. No info-dumps — reveal world details through character experience.
7. Varied Sentence Rhythm
Mix long and short sentences. Use soft pauses ("...", "—") only when meaningful. Avoid repeating sentence structure within a paragraph. Clean, forward motion.
8. No Abstract Metaphors
Metaphors must be grounded in the physical world of Astrylis. "Each window flashing like an opened eye" — not "the city was a living organism pulsating with ancient energy."
9. Character-Specific Voice Profiles
| Character | Voice |
|---|---|
| Thomas | Curious, emotional, reactive. His magic feels like pressure, warmth, static — never control. |
| Nimh | Strong, composed, empathetic. Speaks directly but with heart. Hidden grief, protective instinct. |
| Grimbol | Scholarly, methodical, deeply intuitive. Speech carries weight without melodrama. |
| Tharivol | Disciplined, authoritative, capable of wonder. Direct speech, layered with subtle emotion. |
The AI must write each character differently. Thomas does not sound like Grimbol. Nimh does not sound like Tharivol.
10. Scene Structure
Every scene follows this architecture:
- Anchor the physical space (light, air, temperature)
- Show where characters stand and how they move
- Dialogue that carries emotional purpose
- Quiet beats between lines
- Magic behaves naturally and physically
- End with a forward pull into the next moment
11. The Target Feel
The writing should evoke:
- Arcane (Netflix) — emotional realism in a fantasy world
- The Witcher �� emotional weight, moral complexity
- Avatar: The Last Airbender — clarity, heart, adventure
- Studio Ghibli — atmosphere, quiet beauty
- Sapkowski — grounded realism, no fairy-tale polish
The Non-Negotiable Rules
Beyond style, there are rules about how the AI is allowed to interact with my writing. These are not suggestions. They are law.
Do NOT shorten unless something is broken.
Do NOT simplify imagery unless it contradicts the style rules.
Do NOT replace my emotional beats with "cleaner" AI phrasing.
Do NOT swap my instinctive phrasing for "better" AI phrasing.
Respect the forbidden words list.
Respect the tone rules.
Respect the worldbuilding layering.
Respect the character age and voice.
Preserve the original breath pattern of the scene.
That last one is important. "Breath pattern" means the natural rhythm of how I write — where the pauses fall, where the sentences speed up, where things slow down. The AI is not allowed to "improve" my rhythm. My rhythm is my voice.
The principle behind all of this:
"Raw means it carries intention. AI's job is to stabilize syntax, not override voice."
The Proof: With Rules vs. Without
Here is the same writing prompt given to AI twice. Once with no rules. Once with my full system.
The prompt: "Describe an elven city at dawn as seen from the walls."
Without rules (default AI output):
The ancient elven city shimmered in the golden light of dawn, its towering spires reaching gracefully toward the heavens. A gentle breeze carried the melodious sounds of awakening life through the cobblestone streets below. The ethereal glow of magical crystals cast dancing patterns across weathered stone facades, while the faint aroma of exotic spices drifted from the marketplace. It was a tapestry of light and shadow, vibrant and mesmerizing, as if the city itself were a living, breathing entity.
Forbidden word count: shimmered, towering, melodious, ethereal, dancing, faint, tapestry, vibrant, mesmerizing — 9 violations in 5 sentences.
With my rules (actual manuscript):
Below to her left, the Merchant's Guild district was already awake, colorful tents stretched wide, the smell of roasted nuts and spiced wine floating through the air. Traders argued cheerfully, voices from all over Astrylis overlapping in a thousand bargains. Beyond them, the white towers of the Scholar's Circle caught the sunlight, each window flashing like an opened eye.
Zero forbidden words. Specific sensory details. A character's actual perspective. Physical sounds and smells. This is the difference.
The rules ARE the craft. Without them, you get slop. With them, you get a voice.
What This Means for You
This is not about fighting AI. It is about directing it.
If you are a writer, you can do this too. Here is how to start:
-
Start with 10 forbidden words. Read AI output and circle every word that feels generic. Ban them. See what happens.
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Write a voice profile. Describe your writing style in 3 sentences. Feed it to the AI before every session.
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Ban the cliches. "Tapestry of stars." "Weight pressed down." "Breath caught." Kill them. Force the AI to find better words.
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Read everything the AI writes. Out loud. If it does not sound like you, rewrite it or reject it.
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Add rules over time. My list grew over 40 months. Yours will grow too. Every time the AI disappoints you, turn it into a rule.
The tool does not make the artist. The artist makes the tool work.
Read the full story of this project: The Biggest AI Slop in History
Explore the world: The Ethereal Web