What is the future of content writing with AI on the scene?
Are there solutions for humans to keep writing online?
AI should not rule the landscape
Dear Vocal.Media contributor. You are probably noticing how artificial intelligence is affecting your earnings. You may be working twice as hard and getting half the views and income you were used to across platforms.
One of my sons told me a few years ago that AI would be the end of content writing. I remained hopeful even as my views across platforms declined. Stories that used to get thousands of views began onyl receiving hundreds. One by one, the writing sites made changes that excluded certain writers, or they abruptly shut down. Hubpages is the latest.
It's discouraging to enter a search on the web and see AI-generated information showing up first. On a few occasions, articles I had written for Vocal. Media were at the top, which gave me hope that not all was lost.
I have searched the web for the past nine months and even enlisted AI's assistance. I have come up empty and cannot find one place where I can showcase my talent.I have asked other content creators, and so far, no one has an answer.
Are there other writing sites?
A few suggested personal blogs, but it takes time to develop a following. Those who depend on online earnings need something now. Two years ago, I had four sites where I wrote regularly and was increasing my earnings, and now, Vocal is the onyl one left.
I applied to Yahoo, but you need a large social media presence with 1t least 10,000 followers. I had 100,000 on NewsBreak, but I was one of the writers whose account was deactivated. I filled out an application for MSN, but have not yet received an invitation. After eight months, I probably won't.
We must find a solution
I've written articles on Vocal before about sites that stopped promoting content without explanation. On other platforms, you can only make money through subscriptions, or you must pitch ideas.
I don't know what the future holds for this site, but I eagerly await the news that Vocal will share. Vocal.Media has done one thing that none of the other writing sites have done. They communicate with us and offer transparency, and keep contributors updated on changes.
This is why I am excited and optimistic about the notifications we are certain to receive about how this writing platform will navigate the current landscape. Is there a way to compete with AI so that our work will be at the top of the search engines?
Younger readers seem to have shorter attention spans and don't like long articles. NewsBreak dropped the minimum number of words from 500 to 100, but they also deactivated the accounts of hundreds of thousands of writers as they restructured.
Will Vocal survive AI-Will we?
How will Vocal tackle the changes, and will it still be viable for us to create here? This is the only platform that I have used in the past two decades that offers benefits through Vocal Plus and challenges, and top stories. Readers can give tips, and there is an option for subscriptions, but it's not mandatory.
As we await the Vocal notification that is sure to come, we can continue honing our craft and hoping for the best. We can encourage one another and share information on other places to write.
Best of luck to all as the future unfolds. There is a place for artificial intelligence, but it should not take the place of human writers whose work exhibits emotions. Together, we can find solutions where we continue our craft and keep AI in its place.
About the Creator
Cheryl E Preston
Cheryl enjoys writing about current events, soap spoilers and baby boomer nostalgia. Tips are greatly appreciated.
Keep reading
More stories from Cheryl E Preston and writers in Motivation and other communities.
“The Man Who Never Missed a Day”
When I was 17, I met a man who delivered newspapers in the rain. Not in a casual, half-hearted way—but fully committed, every single morning. He would leave his house before sunrise, his coat soaked, shoes falling apart, and the wind cutting through him like a knife. Yet, despite the cold and wet, he smiled at everyone on his route. To a teenager like me, it was both confusing and inspiring. I remember the first time I saw him struggle with a bundle of papers that seemed almost too heavy for him. He slipped on the wet pavement, muttered something under his breath, and kept walking. When he reached the next house, he knocked on the door, handed over the paper, and smiled as the door closed. That smile was strange to me—it wasn’t pride or satisfaction, it was… calm. Almost peaceful. Curious, I approached him one morning. “Why don’t you take a day off when it’s so hard?” I asked, shivering in my hoodie as the rain soaked me through. He laughed, a deep, gravelly sound that didn’t sound annoyed, only knowing. “Son, nobody cares about today,” he said, shaking his head. “What matters is tomorrow. You build your life the same way: one small effort, every day, even when nobody notices.” At the time, I didn’t understand. My life felt urgent, like it had to explode with success immediately. I was chasing big ideas, jumping from project to project, leaving most half-finished. I thought motivation was everything—without the spark of inspiration, nothing mattered. The idea of showing up every single day, even when tired, even when bored, even when invisible, felt almost insane. I watched him for weeks. Rain or shine, he was there. I started noticing small details I hadn’t seen before—the careful folding of the papers, the way he adjusted his wet coat to protect the bundle, the extra minute he took to smile at a child running out to grab the paper. Every morning, the same ritual. Every morning, the same effort. And yet, nobody cheered. Nobody noticed. Years passed. I went to college, chasing my own “big dreams,” my own versions of instant success. I started businesses, abandoned them; learned new skills, stopped halfway; made promises to myself I couldn’t keep. I told myself I was working toward greatness, but mostly, I was chasing the idea of success, not the work itself. Motivation was my fuel, and when it ran out, I stopped moving. Meanwhile, the memory of that man stayed with me. The quiet diligence, the smile in the pouring rain. I didn’t realize it at the time, but he had already taught me the most important lesson: consistency matters more than talent, and persistence matters more than inspiration. Years later, I found myself struggling. A career path crumbled beneath me, a relationship ended badly, and my confidence had hit rock bottom. I remembered the man with the newspapers. I thought about how small, invisible efforts can be the hardest to trust—because results are not immediate, and recognition is not guaranteed. Yet, he had shown me that those small efforts accumulate, slowly but inevitably, into a life that cannot be ignored. I started experimenting with this principle myself. Every morning, I wrote 500 words for my stories—even when tired, even when uninspired. I practiced my skills quietly, without posting or sharing. I did the work not for applause, but because it mattered to the person I wanted to become. Some days, it felt like nothing was happening. Some days, I wanted to give up. But then I remembered the man with the newspapers, and I kept showing up. It didn’t take long before I started noticing changes. The words I wrote flowed better, ideas connected in ways they never had before. People began noticing my work. Small victories became more frequent, and my confidence started to rebuild. What had seemed like meaningless, invisible effort had quietly transformed my life. That man never became famous. He never went viral. He had no thousands of followers, no awards, no recognition. But every paper he delivered, every smile he shared, every step he took in the rain—it all mattered. Each day of consistent effort built a life he owned completely, a life he could be proud of. I realized then that success is not a moment. It is not a sudden flash of recognition or a single lucky opportunity. Success is the sum of the quiet, consistent decisions we make when no one is watching. It’s the choice to wake up when it’s easier to sleep. It’s the decision to work when it’s easier to scroll on your phone. It’s the effort we put in when the world doesn’t applaud. And the truth is simple: showing up every day is more powerful than talent, motivation, or luck. Talent fades. Motivation fluctuates. But showing up—every single day, rain or shine—creates results you cannot imagine. Just like the man in the rain, your efforts may not be recognized immediately. People may overlook them, circumstances may feel unfair, progress may seem invisible. But over time, the cumulative effect of your daily effort will speak for itself. One day, the world will notice. One day, your consistency will transform your life. So, start today. Don’t wait for motivation. Don’t wait for inspiration. Show up. Every day. One small effort. One action. One step at a time. Let your grind be louder than your excuses. Because the man who never missed a day wasn’t special. He was ordinary. But through persistence, he became unstoppable. And so can you.
By Ihtisham Ulhaq2 days ago in Motivation
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.