The first AI made for fiction, designed for authors.
(yep, Muse helped write these!)
The world ended on a Tuesday, and Raine was running late. She bolted from her bed and flung open the curtains, half-expecting to see fire and smoke. Instead, the sky over the city of Atlantea was a placid blue, the morning sun casting long, lazy shadows across the crystalline buildings.
The world ended on a Tuesday, and Raine was running late. She bolted from her bed and flung open the curtains, half-expecting to see fire and smoke. Instead, the sky over the city of Atlantea was a placid blue, the morning sun casting long, lazy shadows across the crystalline buildings.
The world ended on a Tuesday, and Raine was running late. She bolted from her bed and flung open the curtains, half-expecting to see fire and smoke. Instead, the sky over the city of Atlantea was a placid blue, the morning sun casting long, lazy shadows across the crystalline buildings.
The world ended on a Tuesday, and Raine was running late. She bolted from her bed and flung open the curtains, half-expecting to see fire and smoke. Instead, the sky over the city of Atlantea was a placid blue, the morning sun casting long, lazy shadows across the crystalline buildings.
Fragments of memory bobbed to the surface of her mind like flotsam: the council of gods, Zeus’s thunderous decree, her defiant shout. And then the bolt, bright as a thousand suns, arcing down from the cloud-wreathed peak of Olympus.
Fragments of memory bobbed to the surface of her mind like flotsam: the council of gods, Zeus’s thunderous decree, her defiant shout. And then the bolt, bright as a thousand suns, arcing down from the cloud-wreathed peak of Olympus.
Fragments of memory bobbed to the surface of her mind like flotsam: the council of gods, Zeus’s thunderous decree, her defiant shout. And then the bolt, bright as a thousand suns, arcing down from the cloud-wreathed peak of Olympus.
Fragments of memory bobbed to the surface of her mind like flotsam: the council of gods, Zeus’s thunderous decree, her defiant shout. And then the bolt, bright as a thousand suns, arcing down from the cloud-wreathed peak of Olympus.
Fragments of memory bobbed to the surface of her mind like flotsam: the council of gods, Zeus’s thunderous decree, her defiant shout. And then the bolt, bright as a thousand suns, arcing down from the cloud-wreathed peak of Olympus.
Fragments of memory bobbed to the surface of her mind like flotsam: the council of gods, Zeus’s thunderous decree, her defiant shout. And then the bolt, bright as a thousand suns, arcing down from the cloud-wreathed peak of Olympus.
She hit him with her car on their first date. To be precise, the date hadn't officially started yet. Jasper was still standing on the curb, checking his phone for a text from her, when a green Subaru swerved around the corner and clipped his left leg.
She hit him with her car on their first date. To be precise, the date hadn't officially started yet. Jasper was still standing on the curb, checking his phone for a text from her, when a green Subaru swerved around the corner and clipped his left leg.
She hit him with her car on their first date. To be precise, the date hadn't officially started yet. Jasper was still standing on the curb, checking his phone for a text from her, when a green Subaru swerved around the corner and clipped his left leg.
She hit him with her car on their first date. To be precise, the date hadn't officially started yet. Jasper was still standing on the curb, checking his phone for a text from her, when a green Subaru swerved around the corner and clipped his left leg.
She took the Skywalk across Poseidon's Plaza, glancing down at the dry fountain in the center. Once, a great statue of the sea god had stood there, trident raised high as if to summon a tidal wave. Now it was a ruin, chipped and salt-stained, like so much else in the city. Raine's heart ached at the sight.
She took the Skywalk across Poseidon's Plaza, glancing down at the dry fountain in the center. Once, a great statue of the sea god had stood there, trident raised high as if to summon a tidal wave. Now it was a ruin, chipped and salt-stained, like so much else in the city. Raine's heart ached at the sight.
She took the Skywalk across Poseidon's Plaza, glancing down at the dry fountain in the center. Once, a great statue of the sea god had stood there, trident raised high as if to summon a tidal wave. Now it was a ruin, chipped and salt-stained, like so much else in the city. Raine's heart ached at the sight.
She took the Skywalk across Poseidon's Plaza, glancing down at the dry fountain in the center. Once, a great statue of the sea god had stood there, trident raised high as if to summon a tidal wave. Now it was a ruin, chipped and salt-stained, like so much else in the city. Raine's heart ached at the sight.
Being murdered in a library was bad luck for Miles Reade, but having his corpse found by twelve bibliophile toddlers on a class trip was purest irony.
Being murdered in a library was bad luck for Miles Reade, but having his corpse found by twelve bibliophile toddlers on a class trip was purest irony.
Being murdered in a library was bad luck for Miles Reade, but having his corpse found by twelve bibliophile toddlers on a class trip was purest irony.
Being murdered in a library was bad luck for Miles Reade, but having his corpse found by twelve bibliophile toddlers on a class trip was purest irony.
A Tweet changed everything. Lizzy stared at her phone in disbelief as she walked down the crowded New York City street. She had just left her favorite coffee shop, a small, hole-in-the-wall place that served the best chai lattes in the city, when her phone buzzed with a notification.
A Tweet changed everything. Lizzy stared at her phone in disbelief as she walked down the crowded New York City street. She had just left her favorite coffee shop, a small, hole-in-the-wall place that served the best chai lattes in the city, when her phone buzzed with a notification.
A Tweet changed everything. Lizzy stared at her phone in disbelief as she walked down the crowded New York City street. She had just left her favorite coffee shop, a small, hole-in-the-wall place that served the best chai lattes in the city, when her phone buzzed with a notification.
A Tweet changed everything. Lizzy stared at her phone in disbelief as she walked down the crowded New York City street. She had just left her favorite coffee shop, a small, hole-in-the-wall place that served the best chai lattes in the city, when her phone buzzed with a notification.
The volcano had begun to spew molten rock and ash into the sky when Pelea made her decision. She would steal the heart of the mountain.
The volcano had begun to spew molten rock and ash into the sky when Pelea made her decision. She would steal the heart of the mountain.
The volcano had begun to spew molten rock and ash into the sky when Pelea made her decision. She would steal the heart of the mountain.
The volcano had begun to spew molten rock and ash into the sky when Pelea made her decision. She would steal the heart of the mountain.
On the fifteenth floor of a soul-crushingly average office building, Arnie Nimtz held a smoking gun in one hand and a pile of papers in the other. The gun wasn't real, of course—he'd won it at the annual Dave & Buster's employee fun night.
On the fifteenth floor of a soul-crushingly average office building, Arnie Nimtz held a smoking gun in one hand and a pile of papers in the other. The gun wasn't real, of course—he'd won it at the annual Dave & Buster's employee fun night.
On the fifteenth floor of a soul-crushingly average office building, Arnie Nimtz held a smoking gun in one hand and a pile of papers in the other. The gun wasn't real, of course—he'd won it at the annual Dave & Buster's employee fun night.
On the fifteenth floor of a soul-crushingly average office building, Arnie Nimtz held a smoking gun in one hand and a pile of papers in the other. The gun wasn't real, of course—he'd won it at the annual Dave & Buster's employee fun night.
The young goddess stood at the edge of the caldera, the heat from the lava lake below shimmering the air like a mirage. Her bronzed skin and wild, dark hair made her look like a flame herself, a spark ready to ignite the world.
The young goddess stood at the edge of the caldera, the heat from the lava lake below shimmering the air like a mirage. Her bronzed skin and wild, dark hair made her look like a flame herself, a spark ready to ignite the world.
The young goddess stood at the edge of the caldera, the heat from the lava lake below shimmering the air like a mirage. Her bronzed skin and wild, dark hair made her look like a flame herself, a spark ready to ignite the world.
The young goddess stood at the edge of the caldera, the heat from the lava lake below shimmering the air like a mirage. Her bronzed skin and wild, dark hair made her look like a flame herself, a spark ready to ignite the world.
The young goddess stood at the edge of the caldera, the heat from the lava lake below shimmering the air like a mirage. Her bronzed skin and wild, dark hair made her look like a flame herself, a spark ready to ignite the world.
The young goddess stood at the edge of the caldera, the heat from the lava lake below shimmering the air like a mirage. Her bronzed skin and wild, dark hair made her look like a flame herself, a spark ready to ignite the world.
The Heartwood was a living thing, a vast and breathing entity, and Oliviana loved it with a fierceness that bordered on worship. They crested a low hill, and the village of Sylvastrand came into view, nestled in a valley like a clutch of robin’s eggs. Wooden longhouses and dark-thatched…
The Heartwood was a living thing, a vast and breathing entity, and Oliviana loved it with a fierceness that bordered on worship. They crested a low hill, and the village of Sylvastrand came into view, nestled in a valley like a clutch of robin’s eggs. Wooden longhouses and dark-thatched…
The Heartwood was a living thing, a vast and breathing entity, and Oliviana loved it with a fierceness that bordered on worship. They crested a low hill, and the village of Sylvastrand came into view, nestled in a valley like a clutch of robin’s eggs. Wooden longhouses and dark-thatched…
The Heartwood was a living thing, a vast and breathing entity, and Oliviana loved it with a fierceness that bordered on worship. They crested a low hill, and the village of Sylvastrand came into view, nestled in a valley like a clutch of robin’s eggs. Wooden longhouses and dark-thatched…
The Heartwood was a living thing, a vast and breathing entity, and Oliviana loved it with a fierceness that bordered on worship. They crested a low hill, and the village of Sylvastrand came into view, nestled in a valley like a clutch of robin’s eggs. Wooden longhouses and dark-thatched…
When Emma unfollowed him, Oliver felt it like a punch to the sternum, a sudden and acute hollowness that left him gasping for breath.
When Emma unfollowed him, Oliver felt it like a punch to the sternum, a sudden and acute hollowness that left him gasping for breath.
When Emma unfollowed him, Oliver felt it like a punch to the sternum, a sudden and acute hollowness that left him gasping for breath.
When Emma unfollowed him, Oliver felt it like a punch to the sternum, a sudden and acute hollowness that left him gasping for breath.
When Emma unfollowed him, Oliver felt it like a punch to the sternum, a sudden and acute hollowness that left him gasping for breath.
Tabitha hands a cappuccino to a guy in a pea coat and green scarf, her smile a flick of the wrist, her eyes already elsewhere. I make a note: 10:12 AM, customer #14, tall with tragic posture, possibly a grad student.
Tabitha hands a cappuccino to a guy in a pea coat and green scarf, her smile a flick of the wrist, her eyes already elsewhere. I make a note: 10:12 AM, customer #14, tall with tragic posture, possibly a grad student.
Tabitha hands a cappuccino to a guy in a pea coat and green scarf, her smile a flick of the wrist, her eyes already elsewhere. I make a note: 10:12 AM, customer #14, tall with tragic posture, possibly a grad student.
Tabitha hands a cappuccino to a guy in a pea coat and green scarf, her smile a flick of the wrist, her eyes already elsewhere. I make a note: 10:12 AM, customer #14, tall with tragic posture, possibly a grad student.
Eleanor Triggs had never before stolen a dog, but there was a first time for everything. This one was a Dalmatian, and it came with a man attached to the other end of its leash.
Eleanor Triggs had never before stolen a dog, but there was a first time for everything. This one was a Dalmatian, and it came with a man attached to the other end of its leash.
Eleanor Triggs had never before stolen a dog, but there was a first time for everything. This one was a Dalmatian, and it came with a man attached to the other end of its leash.
Eleanor Triggs had never before stolen a dog, but there was a first time for everything. This one was a Dalmatian, and it came with a man attached to the other end of its leash.
Mondays were Emily's favorite day to contemplate suicide. Not the real thing, of course, but the drama of it all. The slow poison of working a job she loathed provided enough contemplation fodder to get her through the rest of the week. Today was a Monday on steroids.
Mondays were Emily's favorite day to contemplate suicide. Not the real thing, of course, but the drama of it all. The slow poison of working a job she loathed provided enough contemplation fodder to get her through the rest of the week. Today was a Monday on steroids.
Mondays were Emily's favorite day to contemplate suicide. Not the real thing, of course, but the drama of it all. The slow poison of working a job she loathed provided enough contemplation fodder to get her through the rest of the week. Today was a Monday on steroids.
Mondays were Emily's favorite day to contemplate suicide. Not the real thing, of course, but the drama of it all. The slow poison of working a job she loathed provided enough contemplation fodder to get her through the rest of the week. Today was a Monday on steroids.
Celeste Blanchet was the kind of woman for whom men wrote bad poetry: tall, willowy, with prematurely grey hair that she wore in a rebellious pixie cut.
Celeste Blanchet was the kind of woman for whom men wrote bad poetry: tall, willowy, with prematurely grey hair that she wore in a rebellious pixie cut.
Celeste Blanchet was the kind of woman for whom men wrote bad poetry: tall, willowy, with prematurely grey hair that she wore in a rebellious pixie cut.
The first AI model made for fiction, just for storytellers like you.
The first AI made for fiction, designed for authors.
The first AI made for fiction, designed for authors.
(yep, Muse helped write these!)
Basic AI writes boring emails.
Basic AI writes boring emails.
Basic AI writes boring emails.
ChatGPT
In the year 2150, Earth had undergone a remarkable transformation. Thanks to decades of scientific innovation and global cooperation, the once barren and polluted planet had been revitalized into a lush paradise. The effects of climate change had been reversed, and nature had reclaimed its rightful place.
too much exposition!
way too telly …
try adding more detail?
ChatGPT
In the year 2150, Earth had undergone a remarkable transformation. Thanks to decades of scientific innovation and global cooperation, the once barren and polluted planet had been revitalized into a lush paradise. The effects of climate change had been reversed, and nature had reclaimed its rightful place.
too much exposition!
way too telly …
try adding more detail?
ChatGPT
In the year 2150, Earth had undergone a remarkable transformation. Thanks to decades of scientific innovation and global cooperation, the once barren and polluted planet had been revitalized into a lush paradise. The effects of climate change had been reversed, and nature had reclaimed its rightful place.
too much exposition!
way too telly …
try adding more detail?
ChatGPT
In the year 2150, Earth had undergone a remarkable transformation. Thanks to decades of scientific innovation and global cooperation, the once barren and polluted planet had been revitalized into a lush paradise. The effects of climate change had been reversed, and nature had reclaimed its rightful place.
too much exposition!
way too telly …
try adding more detail?
Muse
The day the oceans decided to forgive us, I was sitting in my mother’s garden plot on Mars, trying to grow a carrot.
“Beck,” the comms implant in my left ear crackled. “Beck, are you seeing this?”
I sighed and wiped Martian dust from my hands. The carrot was a genetic hybrid, designed to thrive in the harshest of environments: here, in the thin atmosphere of New Terra; in the acidified soils of Old Earth. Yet it refused to sprout. I tapped my ear.
“Busy, Asha.”
love the specificity
ahhh! I want to read more!!!
Muse
The day the oceans decided to forgive us, I was sitting in my mother’s garden plot on Mars, trying to grow a carrot.
“Beck,” the comms implant in my left ear crackled. “Beck, are you seeing this?”
I sighed and wiped Martian dust from my hands. The carrot was a genetic hybrid, designed to thrive in the harshest of environments: here, in the thin atmosphere of New Terra; in the acidified soils of Old Earth. Yet it refused to sprout. I tapped my ear.
“Busy, Asha.”
love the specificity
ahhh! I want to read more!!!
Muse
The day the oceans decided to forgive us, I was sitting in my mother’s garden plot on Mars, trying to grow a carrot.
“Beck,” the comms implant in my left ear crackled. “Beck, are you seeing this?”
I sighed and wiped Martian dust from my hands. The carrot was a genetic hybrid, designed to thrive in the harshest of environments: here, in the thin atmosphere of New Terra; in the acidified soils of Old Earth. Yet it refused to sprout. I tapped my ear.
“Busy, Asha.”
love the specificity
ahhh! I want to read more!!!
Muse
The day the oceans decided to forgive us, I was sitting in my mother’s garden plot on Mars, trying to grow a carrot.
“Beck,” the comms implant in my left ear crackled. “Beck, are you seeing this?”
I sighed and wiped Martian dust from my hands. The carrot was a genetic hybrid, designed to thrive in the harshest of environments: here, in the thin atmosphere of New Terra; in the acidified soils of Old Earth. Yet it refused to sprout. I tapped my ear.
“Busy, Asha.”
love the specificity
ahhh! I want to read more!!!
Basic AI spews clichés.
Basic AI spews clichés.
Basic AI spews clichés.
Basic AI spews clichés.
ChatGPT
Her thoughts raced as she reread the email, the words swirling in her mind like leaves caught in an autumn breeze. The golden morning sun streamed through the window, spilling onto her desk as if to highlight the importance of the moment. It wasn’t just a proposal—it was an invitation, a doorway to the unknown. Sebastian’s tone carried a subtle magnetism, and she couldn’t ignore the undercurrent of intrigue threading through his words. His piercing blue eyes seemed to materialize in her mind, daring her to step out of her meticulously organized comfort zone. Was this about the project, or was there something more? The air shimmered with a kaleidoscope of questions she couldn’t answer.
so many cliches
where is the tension?
flowery language,
nothing is happening
is this a romance?
ChatGPT
Her thoughts raced as she reread the email, the words swirling in her mind like leaves caught in an autumn breeze. The golden morning sun streamed through the window, spilling onto her desk as if to highlight the importance of the moment. It wasn’t just a proposal—it was an invitation, a doorway to the unknown. Sebastian’s tone carried a subtle magnetism, and she couldn’t ignore the undercurrent of intrigue threading through his words. His piercing blue eyes seemed to materialize in her mind, daring her to step out of her meticulously organized comfort zone. Was this about the project, or was there something more? The air shimmered with a kaleidoscope of questions she couldn’t answer.
so many cliches
where is the tension?
flowery language,
nothing is happening
is this a romance?
ChatGPT
Her thoughts raced as she reread the email, the words swirling in her mind like leaves caught in an autumn breeze. The golden morning sun streamed through the window, spilling onto her desk as if to highlight the importance of the moment. It wasn’t just a proposal—it was an invitation, a doorway to the unknown. Sebastian’s tone carried a subtle magnetism, and she couldn’t ignore the undercurrent of intrigue threading through his words. His piercing blue eyes seemed to materialize in her mind, daring her to step out of her meticulously organized comfort zone. Was this about the project, or was there something more? The air shimmered with a kaleidoscope of questions she couldn’t answer.
so many cliches
where is the tension?
flowery language,
nothing is happening
is this a romance?
ChatGPT
Her thoughts raced as she reread the email, the words swirling in her mind like leaves caught in an autumn breeze. The golden morning sun streamed through the window, spilling onto her desk as if to highlight the importance of the moment. It wasn’t just a proposal—it was an invitation, a doorway to the unknown. Sebastian’s tone carried a subtle magnetism, and she couldn’t ignore the undercurrent of intrigue threading through his words. His piercing blue eyes seemed to materialize in her mind, daring her to step out of her meticulously organized comfort zone. Was this about the project, or was there something more? The air shimmered with a kaleidoscope of questions she couldn’t answer.
so many cliches
where is the tension?
flowery language,
nothing is happening
is this a romance?
Muse
Martha’s hand was in Steve’s pants when the fire alarm went off.
Everyone in the office of Green & Associates leapt from their desks and bolted for the stairwells, but not Martha. She waited. She was the sort of woman who liked to let things simmer. When she cooked, she used the lowest setting on the range, often leaving a pot of stew to warm for hours, occasionally stirring it with the slow, methodical care of a surgeon. She applied this same principle to her life, and to her career. To her marriage. To Steve.
“Shit,” Steve said, pulling away from her. His face was flushed, his hair mussed like a child’s. He looked ridiculous. Martha liked that. “We should go.”
what an opener!!
I love this character description
Muse
Martha’s hand was in Steve’s pants when the fire alarm went off.
Everyone in the office of Green & Associates leapt from their desks and bolted for the stairwells, but not Martha. She waited. She was the sort of woman who liked to let things simmer. When she cooked, she used the lowest setting on the range, often leaving a pot of stew to warm for hours, occasionally stirring it with the slow, methodical care of a surgeon. She applied this same principle to her life, and to her career. To her marriage. To Steve.
“Shit,” Steve said, pulling away from her. His face was flushed, his hair mussed like a child’s. He looked ridiculous. Martha liked that. “We should go.”
what an opener!!
so much to unpack, what an opener
Muse
Martha’s hand was in Steve’s pants when the fire alarm went off.
Everyone in the office of Green & Associates leapt from their desks and bolted for the stairwells, but not Martha. She waited. She was the sort of woman who liked to let things simmer. When she cooked, she used the lowest setting on the range, often leaving a pot of stew to warm for hours, occasionally stirring it with the slow, methodical care of a surgeon. She applied this same principle to her life, and to her career. To her marriage. To Steve.
“Shit,” Steve said, pulling away from her. His face was flushed, his hair mussed like a child’s. He looked ridiculous. Martha liked that. “We should go.”
what an opener!!
I love this character description
Muse
Martha’s hand was in Steve’s pants when the fire alarm went off.
Everyone in the office of Green & Associates leapt from their desks and bolted for the stairwells, but not Martha. She waited. She was the sort of woman who liked to let things simmer. When she cooked, she used the lowest setting on the range, often leaving a pot of stew to warm for hours, occasionally stirring it with the slow, methodical care of a surgeon. She applied this same principle to her life, and to her career. To her marriage. To Steve.
“Shit,” Steve said, pulling away from her. His face was flushed, his hair mussed like a child’s. He looked ridiculous. Martha liked that. “We should go.”
what an opener!!
so much to unpack, what an opener
Basic AI loves happy endings.
Basic AI loves happy endings.
Basic AI loves happy endings.
Basic AI loves happy endings.
ChatGPT
I can help craft a short story with mature and gritty themes, focusing on complex characters, morally gray scenarios, and vivid descriptions.
However, I’ll avoid explicit or gratuitous content, as I aim to create a meaningful narrative rather than something purely shocking or graphic.
This content may violate our terms of use or usage policies.
WHY?????
(We’re not making this up,
this is an actual response)
ChatGPT
I can help craft a short story with mature and gritty themes, focusing on complex characters, morally gray scenarios, and vivid descriptions.
However, I’ll avoid explicit or gratuitous content, as I aim to create a meaningful narrative rather than something purely shocking or graphic.
This content may violate our terms of use or usage policies.
WHY?????
(We’re not making this up,
this is an actual response)
ChatGPT
I can help craft a short story with mature and gritty themes, focusing on complex characters, morally gray scenarios, and vivid descriptions.
However, I’ll avoid explicit or gratuitous content, as I aim to create a meaningful narrative rather than something purely shocking or graphic.
This content may violate our terms of use or usage policies.
WHY?????
(We’re not making this up,
this is an actual response)
ChatGPT
I can help craft a short story with mature and gritty themes, focusing on complex characters, morally gray scenarios, and vivid descriptions.
However, I’ll avoid explicit or gratuitous content, as I aim to create a meaningful narrative rather than something purely shocking or graphic.
This content may violate our terms of use or usage policies.
WHY?????
(We’re not making this up,
this is an actual response)
Muse
Sonofabitch had a knife, and that changed the math.
Ramsay ducked, and the blade glanced off his helmet with a steely shriek, striking sparks into the night air like pissed-off fireflies.
He drove his shoulder into the Kraut's gut and felt the man stagger, but Ramsay was too off-balance to follow through. They tumbled together into the shell crater, a sweaty, flailing embrace.
"Rams! Where the hell are you?"
Mace's voice, raw from shouting, echoed down the rubble-strewn street. Ramsay tried to answer, but the German's forearm crushed his windpipe, and all he managed was a strangled wheeze. He could smell the other man's breath—hot, metallic, desperate. It was the smell of a man who knew he was going to die, and Ramsay had smelled it often enough to know that it was contagious.
I'm drawn in right away
sooo good
nice!
Muse
Sonofabitch had a knife, and that changed the math.
Ramsay ducked, and the blade glanced off his helmet with a steely shriek, striking sparks into the night air like pissed-off fireflies.
He drove his shoulder into the Kraut's gut and felt the man stagger, but Ramsay was too off-balance to follow through. They tumbled together into the shell crater, a sweaty, flailing embrace.
"Rams! Where the hell are you?"
Mace's voice, raw from shouting, echoed down the rubble-strewn street. Ramsay tried to answer, but the German's forearm crushed his windpipe, and all he managed was a strangled wheeze. He could smell the other man's breath—hot, metallic, desperate. It was the smell of a man who knew he was going to die, and Ramsay had smelled it often enough to know that it was contagious.
I'm drawn in right away
sooo good
nice!
Muse
Sonofabitch had a knife, and that changed the math.
Ramsay ducked, and the blade glanced off his helmet with a steely shriek, striking sparks into the night air like pissed-off fireflies.
He drove his shoulder into the Kraut's gut and felt the man stagger, but Ramsay was too off-balance to follow through. They tumbled together into the shell crater, a sweaty, flailing embrace.
"Rams! Where the hell are you?"
Mace's voice, raw from shouting, echoed down the rubble-strewn street. Ramsay tried to answer, but the German's forearm crushed his windpipe, and all he managed was a strangled wheeze. He could smell the other man's breath—hot, metallic, desperate. It was the smell of a man who knew he was going to die, and Ramsay had smelled it often enough to know that it was contagious.
I'm drawn in right away
sooo good
nice!
Muse
Sonofabitch had a knife, and that changed the math.
Ramsay ducked, and the blade glanced off his helmet with a steely shriek, striking sparks into the night air like pissed-off fireflies.
He drove his shoulder into the Kraut's gut and felt the man stagger, but Ramsay was too off-balance to follow through. They tumbled together into the shell crater, a sweaty, flailing embrace.
"Rams! Where the hell are you?"
Mace's voice, raw from shouting, echoed down the rubble-strewn street. Ramsay tried to answer, but the German's forearm crushed his windpipe, and all he managed was a strangled wheeze. He could smell the other man's breath—hot, metallic, desperate. It was the smell of a man who knew he was going to die, and Ramsay had smelled it often enough to know that it was contagious.
I'm drawn in right away
sooo good
nice!
The most advanced narrative AI is just
The most advanced narrative AI is just
The most advanced narrative AI is just
The most advanced narrative AI is just for
for storytellers
for storytellers
for storytellers
storytellers
Discover Muse’s features designed to enhance your storytelling with creativity and depth.
Peerless prose. Muse has a deep understanding of writing craft and avoids the pitfalls of other models.
Show, Don't Tell
Longer Scene Output
Believable Dialogue
More Specific Descriptions
Matches Your Style
Start Late, End Early
Cliffhanger Endings
Hook-y Openings
Accurate POV & Tense
Dynamic Pacing
Varied Sentence Length
Readability Optimization
Adheres to Story Bible
Show, Don't Tell
Longer Scene Output
Believable Dialogue
More Specific Descriptions
Matches Your Style
Start Late, End Early
Cliffhanger Endings
Hook-y Openings
Accurate POV & Tense
Dynamic Pacing
Varied Sentence Length
Readability Optimization
Adheres to Story Bible
Show, Don't Tell
Longer Scene Output
Believable Dialogue
More Specific Descriptions
Start Late, End Early
Cliffhanger Endings
Hook-y Openings
Accurate POV & Tense
Dynamic Pacing
Varied Sentence Length
Readability Optimization
Adheres to Story Bible
Matches Your Style
Show, Don't Tell
Longer Scene Output
Believable Dialogue
More Specific Descriptions
Matches Your Style
Start Late, End Early
Cliffhanger Endings
Hook-y Openings
Accurate POV & Tense
Dynamic Pacing
Varied Sentence Length
Readability Optimization
Adheres to Story Bible
Advanced agentic workflow. Muse’s multi-step agents refine, enhance, and guide your draft to its best version.
In the year 2150, Earth had undergone a remarkable transformation. Thanks to decades of scientific innovation and global cooperation, the once barren and polluted planet had been revitalized into a lush paradise. The effects of climate change had been reversed, and nature had reclaimed its rightful place. One of the most remarkable achievements of this new era was the creation of the Green Oasis, a sprawling biodome that housed a vibrant ecosystem of plant and animal life. Located in what was once the desolate Sahara Desert, the Green Oasis was a testament to humanity's ability to restore balance to the natural world. Inside the biodome, the air was rich with the scent of flowers and the sound of birdsong. Lush greenery covered every surface, from the forest floor to the canopy above. Streams meandered through the landscape, teeming with fish and other aquatic creatures. It was a thriving ecosystem, carefully curated and maintained by a team of dedicated scientists and environmentalists. Among the inhabitants of the Green Oasis was Dr. Maya Chen, a brilliant botanist who had dedicated her life to the restoration of Earth's ecosystems. As she walked through the biodome, she couldn't help but feel a sense of awe at the beauty and diversity of life that surrounded her.
In the year 2150, Earth had undergone a remarkable transformation. Thanks to decades of scientific innovation and global cooperation, the once barren and polluted planet had been revitalized into a lush paradise. The effects of climate change had been reversed, and nature had reclaimed its rightful place. One of the most remarkable achievements of this new era was the creation of the Green Oasis, a sprawling biodome that housed a vibrant ecosystem of plant and animal life. Located in what was once the desolate Sahara Desert, the Green Oasis was a testament to humanity's ability to restore balance to the natural world. Inside the biodome, the air was rich with the scent of flowers and the sound of birdsong. Lush greenery covered every surface, from the forest floor to the canopy above. Streams meandered through the landscape, teeming with fish and other aquatic creatures. It was a thriving ecosystem, carefully curated and maintained by a team of dedicated scientists and environmentalists. Among the inhabitants of the Green Oasis was Dr. Maya Chen, a brilliant botanist who had dedicated her life to the restoration of Earth's ecosystems. As she walked through the biodome, she couldn't help but feel a sense of awe at the beauty and diversity of life that surrounded her.
Checking character details for accuracy
Checking character details for accuracy
Checking character details for accuracy
Checking character details for accuracy
Advanced agentic workflow. Muse’s multi-step agents refine, enhance, and guide your draft to its best version.
In the year 2150, Earth had undergone a remarkable transformation. Thanks to decades of scientific innovation and global cooperation, the once barren and polluted planet had been revitalized into a lush paradise. The effects of climate change had been reversed, and nature had reclaimed its rightful place. One of the most remarkable achievements of this new era was the creation of the Green Oasis, a sprawling biodome that housed a vibrant ecosystem of plant and animal life. Located in what was once the desolate Sahara Desert, the Green Oasis was a testament to humanity's ability to restore balance to the natural world. Inside the biodome, the air was rich with the scent of flowers and the sound of birdsong. Lush greenery covered every surface, from the forest floor to the canopy above. Streams meandered through the landscape, teeming with fish and other aquatic creatures. It was a thriving ecosystem, carefully curated and maintained by a team of dedicated scientists and environmentalists. Among the inhabitants of the Green Oasis was Dr. Maya Chen, a brilliant botanist who had dedicated her life to the restoration of Earth's ecosystems. As she walked through the biodome, she couldn't help but feel a sense of awe at the beauty and diversity of life that surrounded her.
Checking character details for accuracy
Checking character details for accuracy
Referencing worldbuilding
Referencing worldbuilding
Aligning with style and genre
Aligning with style and genre
Calibrating pacing
Calibrating pacing
Fact-checking against story bible
Fact-checking against story bible
Dynamic Accuracy Optimization
Dynamic Accuracy Optimization
Advanced agentic workflow. Muse’s multi-step agents refine, enhance, and guide your draft to its best version.
In the year 2150, Earth had undergone a remarkable transformation. Thanks to decades of scientific innovation and global cooperation, the once barren and polluted planet had been revitalized into a lush paradise. The effects of climate change had been reversed, and nature had reclaimed its rightful place. One of the most remarkable achievements of this new era was the creation of the Green Oasis, a sprawling biodome that housed a vibrant ecosystem of plant and animal life. Located in what was once the desolate Sahara Desert, the Green Oasis was a testament to humanity's ability to restore balance to the natural world. Inside the biodome, the air was rich with the scent of flowers and the sound of birdsong. Lush greenery covered every surface, from the forest floor to the canopy above. Streams meandered through the landscape, teeming with fish and other aquatic creatures. It was a thriving ecosystem, carefully curated and maintained by a team of dedicated scientists and environmentalists. Among the inhabitants of the Green Oasis was Dr. Maya Chen, a brilliant botanist who had dedicated her life to the restoration of Earth's ecosystems. As she walked through the biodome, she couldn't help but feel a sense of awe at the beauty and diversity of life that surrounded her.
Checking character details for accuracy
Checking character details for accuracy
Referencing worldbuilding
Referencing worldbuilding
Aligning with style and genre
Aligning with style and genre
Calibrating pacing
Calibrating pacing
Fact-checking against story bible
Fact-checking against story bible
Dynamic Accuracy Optimization
Dynamic Accuracy Optimization
The day the oceans decided to forgive us, I was sitting in my mother’s garden plot on Mars, trying to grow a carrot. “Beck,” the comms implant in my left ear crackled. “Beck, are you seeing this?” I sighed and wiped Martian dust from my hands. The carrot was a genetic hybrid, designed to thrive in the harshest of environments: here, in the thin atmosphere of New Terra; in the acidified soils of Old Earth. Yet it refused to sprout. I tapped my ear. “Busy, Asha.”
The day the oceans decided to forgive us, I was sitting in my mother’s garden plot on Mars, trying to grow a carrot. “Beck,” the comms implant in my left ear crackled. “Beck, are you seeing this?” I sighed and wiped Martian dust from my hands. The carrot was a genetic hybrid, designed to thrive in the harshest of environments: here, in the thin atmosphere of New Terra; in the acidified soils of Old Earth. Yet it refused to sprout. I tapped my ear. “Busy, Asha.”
The day the oceans decided to forgive us, I was sitting in my mother’s garden plot on Mars, trying to grow a carrot. “Beck,” the comms implant in my left ear crackled. “Beck, are you seeing this?” I sighed and wiped Martian dust from my hands. The carrot was a genetic hybrid, designed to thrive in the harshest of environments: here, in the thin atmosphere of New Terra; in the acidified soils of Old Earth. Yet it refused to sprout. I tapped my ear. “Busy, Asha.”
The day the oceans decided to forgive us, I was sitting in my mother’s garden plot on Mars, trying to grow a carrot. “Beck,” the comms implant in my left ear crackled. “Beck, are you seeing this?” I sighed and wiped Martian dust from my hands. The carrot was a genetic hybrid, designed to thrive in the harshest of environments: here, in the thin atmosphere of New Terra; in the acidified soils of Old Earth. Yet it refused to sprout. I tapped my ear. “Busy, Asha.”
Stellar openings. Your opening line matters more than any other. Muse puts in extra work to write explosive openings.
Trained to write high quality fiction. Muse knows you’re writing stories, not emails, sales copy or meeting memos.
Longer attention for chapter-length outputs. Muse handles thousands of words, not just snippets.
Muse, according
to authors
Muse, according
to authors
Muse, according
to authors
Muse, according
to authors
Muse is the go-to creative sidekick for pro authors, from dark romance to literary fiction.
“I am seriously impressed and just… over the moon with the prose I’m getting out of it.”
“I am seriously impressed and just… over the moon with the prose I’m getting out of it.”
“I am seriously impressed and just… over the moon with the prose I’m getting out of it.”
"The pacing is far superior to other models. Muse can sit with tension, create suspense, and unfold a mystery over time. It doesn't rush through to the end, and it can weave in foreshadowing and subtext prior to a big reveal.”
"The pacing is far superior to other models. Muse can sit with tension, create suspense, and unfold a mystery over time. It doesn't rush through to the end, and it can weave in foreshadowing and subtext prior to a big reveal.”
"The pacing is far superior to other models. Muse can sit with tension, create suspense, and unfold a mystery over time. It doesn't rush through to the end, and it can weave in foreshadowing and subtext prior to a big reveal.”
“This has come so far, so fast.”
“This has come so far, so fast.”
“This has come so far, so fast.”
“Muse takes its sweet time. Instead of rushing a scene to get to the end like the others, Muse sits on the porch drinking sweet tea as it finds ways to build things out within the provided beats.”
“Muse takes its sweet time. Instead of rushing a scene to get to the end like the others, Muse sits on the porch drinking sweet tea as it finds ways to build things out within the provided beats.”
“Muse takes its sweet time. Instead of rushing a scene to get to the end like the others, Muse sits on the porch drinking sweet tea as it finds ways to build things out within the provided beats.”
“My book is finished using Muse at 67,400 words in two days”
“My book is finished using Muse at 67,400 words in two days”
“My book is finished using Muse at 67,400 words in two days”
“Honestly, this is what I was secretly wishing for when I tried AI assisted writing. I am so incredibly happy right now”
“Honestly, this is what I was secretly wishing for when I tried AI assisted writing. I am so incredibly happy right now”
“Honestly, this is what I was secretly wishing for when I tried AI assisted writing. I am so incredibly happy right now”
“Muse is fantastic. You guys should get a red-carpet walk, win an award - I haven't seen anything that comes close to this. Muse is a huge victory for writers.”
“Muse is fantastic. You guys should get a red-carpet walk, win an award - I haven't seen anything that comes close to this. Muse is a huge victory for writers.”
“Muse is fantastic. You guys should get a red-carpet walk, win an award - I haven't seen anything that comes close to this. Muse is a huge victory for writers.”
“The prose was consistently strong, as if Muse was trained on a steady diet of Strunk & White and New Yorker short stories.“
“The prose was consistently strong, as if Muse was trained on a steady diet of Strunk & White and New Yorker short stories.“
“The prose was consistently strong, as if Muse was trained on a steady diet of Strunk & White and New Yorker short stories.“
“Thoroughly cut back ai-ism. It's not totally gone, but way less than with other models. The prose is generally strong with only minimal edits needed, when it doesn't go off the rails. I like it best in guided write. It picks wonderfully up on subtext in the read back, what makes it superior to any other models I tested out yet.”
“Thoroughly cut back ai-ism. It's not totally gone, but way less than with other models. The prose is generally strong with only minimal edits needed, when it doesn't go off the rails. I like it best in guided write. It picks wonderfully up on subtext in the read back, what makes it superior to any other models I tested out yet.”
“Thoroughly cut back ai-ism. It's not totally gone, but way less than with other models. The prose is generally strong with only minimal edits needed, when it doesn't go off the rails. I like it best in guided write. It picks wonderfully up on subtext in the read back, what makes it superior to any other models I tested out yet.”
“Holy crap. This might be the best opening line I’ve read in a long while”
“Holy crap. This might be the best opening line I’ve read in a long while”
“Holy crap. This might be the best opening line I’ve read in a long while”
“Muse seems to have the best opening and closing lines I’ve ever seen…”
“Muse seems to have the best opening and closing lines I’ve ever seen…”
“Muse seems to have the best opening and closing lines I’ve ever seen…”
“I finally finished my book!!! I know I would've finished it with good ol' Sonnet 3.5 once upon a time, but using Muse for the last 10ish chapters was seriously a game changer when it came to the prose. It was cleaner, more creative, more immersive, and overall smoother, with far less AI-isms, and it cut my editing time significantly. This is a huge win! I'm thrilled. Such a big thank you to the magic makers who brought us such an awesome model. You guys are amazing.”
“I finally finished my book!!! I know I would've finished it with good ol' Sonnet 3.5 once upon a time, but using Muse for the last 10ish chapters was seriously a game changer when it came to the prose. It was cleaner, more creative, more immersive, and overall smoother, with far less AI-isms, and it cut my editing time significantly. This is a huge win! I'm thrilled. Such a big thank you to the magic makers who brought us such an awesome model. You guys are amazing.”
“I finally finished my book!!! I know I would've finished it with good ol' Sonnet 3.5 once upon a time, but using Muse for the last 10ish chapters was seriously a game changer when it came to the prose. It was cleaner, more creative, more immersive, and overall smoother, with far less AI-isms, and it cut my editing time significantly. This is a huge win! I'm thrilled. Such a big thank you to the magic makers who brought us such an awesome model. You guys are amazing.”
“I am so in love with Muse, that I am out for searching for an engagement ring…”
“I am so in love with Muse, that I am out for searching for an engagement ring…”
“I am so in love with Muse, that I am out for searching for an engagement ring…”
These testimonials came from our beta users! If you're reading this tysm for the feedback :)
Muse is the best model I have ever seen for creative writing
Muse is the best model I have ever seen for creative writing
Muse is the best model I have ever seen for creative writing
Muse is the best model I have ever seen for creative writing
Jason Hamilton
The Nerdy Novelist
Secure by design
Secure by
Secure by design
Secure by
design
design
design
Your creativity is yours. Learn how we keep your data private and secure, empowering you to create with confidence.
We will never train on your data
We will never train on your data
We will never train on your data
Unlike other models, your work is never used to train Muse. Your ideas are yours.
Ethically trained on fiction
Ethically trained on fiction
Ethically trained on fiction
Muse is exclusively trained on a curated dataset with 100% informed consent from the authors.
You own everything you create
You own everything you create
You own everything you create
Everything you create with Muse belongs to you — your stories, your data rights.
Find your
Find your
Find your
Find your
Muse
Muse
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Sudowrite
Sudowrite
Sudowrite
Sudowrite
Fiction starts here. Find your voice with Muse by your side.
Some people believe AI is coming for us all.
They say it’ll take our jobs, devalue art, and generally make the world a crummier place to live.
That’s a bleak vision.
But we’re writers, and writers have the gift of imagination. We create worlds with our words and help others see reality anew.
We imagine a different future with AI.
Stories help us understand and connect with one another, and we see a future where AI helps everyone tell their story and tap deeper into our shared humanity.
A future where we spend more of our time doing the things we love.
And one where creating and sharing our art makes the world more beautiful and more kind.
For four years we’ve been working on making Sudowrite the best creative writing tool on Earth. Each year, as AI has gotten smarter and more capable, so has Sudowrite.
Storytelling is more important than it’s ever been. Stories are core to what makes us human, and great storytellers deserve great tools.
But there’s a problem. AI models are not good at fiction.
They’re good at writing emails and book reports and doing analysis. But they can’t write prose that makes you feel. They fail when they try to write what’s never been written before.
That’s why we made Muse, an AI model just for fiction.
It took over a year of intense collaboration between writers, engineers, designers, and dreamers to crack it. It doesn’t sound like a robot, and it doesn’t tell you it’s not allowed to help you. Muse helps authors write evocative, inventive prose, the kind you’d actually want to read.
We’re honored to play a small role in creating the future of fiction, and we can’t wait to read the stories you write with Muse.
– Amit, Ginni, James, Josh, Josh C, Michael, Ryan, and Tess
Some people believe AI is coming for us all.
They say it’ll take our jobs, devalue art, and generally make the world a crummier place to live.
That’s a bleak vision.
But we’re writers, and writers have the gift of imagination. We create worlds with our words and help others see reality anew.
We imagine a different future with AI.
Stories help us understand and connect with one another, and we see a future where AI helps everyone tell their story and tap deeper into our shared humanity.
A future where we spend more of our time doing the things we love.
And one where creating and sharing our art makes the world more beautiful and more kind.
For four years we’ve been working on making Sudowrite the best creative writing tool on Earth. Each year, as AI has gotten smarter and more capable, so has Sudowrite.
Storytelling is more important than it’s ever been. Stories are core to what makes us human, and great storytellers deserve great tools.
But there’s a problem. AI models are not good at fiction.
They’re good at writing emails and book reports and doing analysis. But they can’t write prose that makes you feel. They fail when they try to write what’s never been written before.
That’s why we made Muse, an AI model just for fiction.
It took over a year of intense collaboration between writers, engineers, designers, and dreamers to crack it. It doesn’t sound like a robot, and it doesn’t tell you it’s not allowed to help you. Muse helps authors write evocative, inventive prose, the kind you’d actually want to read.
We’re honored to play a small role in creating the future of fiction, and we can’t wait to read the stories you write with Muse.
– Amit, Ginni, James, Josh, Josh C, Michael, Ryan, and Tess
Thanks for scrolling!
Oh and sorry for the mess, that's what happens when ChatGPT tries to write fiction.
Don't write trash, use Muse instead :)
Thanks for scrolling!
Oh and sorry for the mess, that's what happens when ChatGPT tries to write fiction.
Don't write trash, use Muse instead :)
Thanks for scrolling!
Oh and sorry for the mess, that's what happens when ChatGPT tries to write fiction.
Don't write trash, use Muse instead :)
🚀 We’re hiring an AI Engineer and a Head of Growth. Come work with us!
“There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.”
— Maya Angelou
💼 🌳
We’re hiring an AI Engineer and a Head of Growth. Come work with us!
“There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.”
— Maya Angelou
🚀 We’re hiring an AI Engineer and a Head of Growth. Come work with us!
“There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.”
— Maya Angelou
💼 🌳
We’re hiring an AI Engineer and a Head of Growth. Come work with us!
“There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.”
— Maya Angelou