If You Haven’t Sampled Google Gemini’s Creative Powers, You’re Doing Yourself A Disservice

I’ll never need to spend another dollar on Netflix again.

I recently saw a post on Reddit’s /r/singularity that read like science fiction. In a matter of seconds, Gemini Ultra was able to whip up a better creative writing piece than 90% of the stuff I’ve come across in recent years — that have already gone through the editing and publishing phase.

They say that Google’s new bot is more nuanced and creative then GPT-4, even if it’s slightly lacking in the logical reasoning department. I had to try it out for myself and see what the hype was about.

I went to the Gemini app page (https://gemini.google.com/app) and gave it a very simple prompt:

Write me the beginning of a story about a man on a base on 
Mars who notices something very odd happening in a lab.

I genuinely wasn’t expecting much because I was still on the Pro version, not the Ultra model. This is what I got, with absolutely no edits or re-writes on my first attempt:

Blood Red, Dark Green

Dust swirled around Kaito’s boots as he crossed the desolate Martian landscape, the setting sun casting long, crimson shadows from the biodomes. Inside, life bloomed, a defiant emerald jewel against the rusty red wasteland. He reached the metal hatch, punched in the access code, and the hiss of recycled air welcomed him like a warm handshake.

His destination: Lab 7, its sterile white walls gleaming under harsh fluorescent lights. Inside, Dr. Anya Sharma, her usual vibrant energy muted, hunched over a microscope, her brow furrowed. “Evening, Anya,” Kaito greeted, his voice echoing slightly.

Anya glanced up, a tired smile flickering across her face. “Kaito, haven’t seen you around. Thought you were still mooning over the dust mites in Sector B.”

He chuckled. “Duty calls, even for the lowliest geologist. Whatcha got there?”

Anya hesitated, then gestured towards a petri dish containing something that made Kaito’s breath hitch. A plant. Not the usual spindly, genetically engineered shoots they coaxed from Martian soil, but something else entirely. Lush, emerald green leaves unfurled with impossible speed, veins pulsing with an otherworldly bioluminescence.

“Whoa,” Kaito breathed, mesmerized. “This isn’t…one of yours, is it?”

Anya shook her head, her voice trembling. “No. It appeared this morning. Just…sprouted. From nothing.” She tapped a data pad, bringing up a time-lapse video showing the plant erupting from the sterile, Martian sand. It was like watching a flower bloom in fast-forward, yet impossible.

A cold prickle ran down Kaito’s spine. “Have you tested it?”

“Everything,” Anya said, her voice tight. “No genetic markers, no known species. It’s…alien.”

The word hung heavy in the air, charged with a thousand implications. Martian life? It was a fantasy whispered in hushed tones around campfires, a scientific impossibility. Yet, here it was, staring back at them with vibrant defiance.

Anya met his gaze, her eyes wide with a mixture of awe and apprehension. “This changes everything, Kaito,” she whispered. “Everything we thought we knew about Mars.”

He nodded, his heart pounding. In the sterile lab, surrounded by the hum of machinery, a seed of something else had taken root. Not just a plant, but an unsettling truth, waiting to be unearthed. The red planet held secrets, and they had just stumbled upon the first green shoot of a mystery far vaster than they could have imagined.

We’re Approaching The Singularity

How crazy is it that we live in an age where I can get a completely unique, beautifully written, and entertaining story with just a few strokes on my keyboard?

I feel so lucky to be alive in order to experience this.

Keep in mind — I wasn’t even using the latest model, which is supposed to be an even better writer and is far more creative.

I could honestly spend hours and hours playing with this bot, coming up with an entire series in less than a few days. I could sell those books, or perhaps start a personal stockpile of my favorite AI generated literary worlds.

In fact, I just might.

The potential benefits this has for creative writers are truly, truly enormous.