What a short, fiery minute it’s been since the outcry that short story chosen as the Caribbean’s regional winner for the Commonwealth Short Story Prize was created using AI. Stating that it arose because of the jealousy of another writer, the author explained his writing process as ‘being unusual,’ namely, using technology and speech-to-text writing. The team leader of the prize has now issued a statement. Nonetheless, the repercussions have been damning to say the least with Granta no longer engaging in ‘external publishing partnerships’ in which it has no ‘editorial control’. It made me wonder what ‘editorial control’ means, and how do you know if something’s AI-generated?

Everyone Knows

Everyone seemed to know that the author had used AI. They didn’t guess, suspect or were uncertain of it. They knew that the story was generated by AI. How?

As it happened, a week ago, I shared with a writer friend an email I received from a literary agent rejecting a submission I’d made. He responded by saying that the email was generated by AI. “It’s in the language,” he said. I read the email several times and I didn’t see it. I still don’t.

That said, there are times when I’ve received emails and known, immediately, that they aren’t genuine. For example, I received a glowing email from a literary agent setting out the merits of my novel and offering to represent me. In another, I was invited to speak at a prestigious literary event. What was the difference with these examples?

For one, what was being offered was simply too good to be true. Also, to respond to their offers, I had to reply to a generic This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it. rather than one set up with the festival’s name in the url, such as This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it..

Writing Tells

Apparently, those in the know claimed that by the time they read the first three sentences of ‘The Serpent in the Grove’, they knew the story was AI-generated. This, I learnt, was because ‘the story features items arranged in threes and “not x, but y” constructions,…’ For example: ‘They say the grove still hums at noon. Not the bees’ neat industry…’ Moreover, of the many responses, both online and offline, the ones that made me sit up were the following kind: This is what happens when people don’t do enough training in their line of work. How could they not know the most basic LLM writing tells. Add to this were terms like ‘obvious markers of AI-generated writing.’

The more I read of this outcry, the more I began to worry that I was going to be lumped into the category of the ‘untrained people’. This was precisely why I was heartened when I read Tanju Solanki’s piece, ‘Oh, so AI writing is here?’ published on 28 May 2026. I exhaled when I read the standfirst: ‘I have never been scared reading for TBLM; this time I am a bit jittery.’ Thank God I’m not the only one.

Trust Deficit

Generally, people in the industry are taking a somewhat fatalistic approach: AI is going to take over our careers as writers and we must do everything to stop it. This seems to stem from the belief that people are trying to cheat the system and will, therefore, ‘break it’ for everybody. In other words, there is now an all-round trust deficit in the publishing industry.

To an extent, this is true. I know of newspaper columnists who have titles to their names, but can barely string a sentence in English and get someone to write their published pieces. Then, there was the time a non-fiction piece I co-wrote was accepted for publication. When I opened the newspaper, not only was my name omitted from the piece, everything I wrote was placed in inverted commas. It was as though my co-author had had a face-to-face interview with the journalist and was being quoted.

With such unethical practices in play, does ‘having editorial control’ truly mean, ‘We will not publish writers we don’t trust?’

Mending the Situation

I refuse to accept that writers should now purposely insert typos in their pieces or avoid using the ‘not x, but y’ construction. Making sure that what you submit is the very best it can be is good practice. And writing techniques which help my words connect with a reader shouldn’t be discarded, and only because a machine can do this work. Also, am I now expected to waste time making sure every draft of my story is kept, time stamped and so on just to prove that I wrote the story? That makes absolutely no sense.

What is the way forward? Is there one?

I do not have an answer that will solve the problem by any means. However, I’ve observed two things and I’d like to share them, please. Perhaps, they can be built upon to create a writing environment that is beneficial to everyone in the industry.

The first is that I’ve often wondered how competitions manage the volume of submissions they receive. Some receive no more than 100 stories and some, like the Commonwealth Short Story Prize, receive thousands. Then, there are those who cap the submissions they can receive because they have limited manpower. Perhaps, this is a way ensuring that it’s quality that remains uppermost within the industry from writing a story through to editing and the eventual published piece.

The second has an unexpected source – the last three words in a statement made by Cardinal Blasé Cupich of Chicago during the recent release of Pope Leo XIV’s Magnifica Humanitas: “There is a need for the wisdom that the church’s tradition can bring to this discussion of how to use AI in a way that preserves human dignity.”

If we can use what the Cardinal has said as a baseline, and ensure that we’re all trustworthy, we could find a way to preserve the dignity of writers, those who run competitions, editors, publishing houses, etc. It’ll be a starting point out of this literary swamp in which we all find ourselves.

Possible?

***

Resources :

·       Creamer, Ella. ‘Granta stops publishing short story award winners over AI controversy’, The Guardian, 20 June 2026. <https://www.theguardian.com/books/2026/jun/20/granta-magazine-commonwealth-short-story-prize-ai> [accessed 26 June 2026]

·       Wagner, Erica. ‘My writing process is unusual,’ says prize-winning author accused of being AI’, The Observer, 24 June 2026. <https://observer.co.uk/news/national/article/my-writing-process-is-unusual-says-prize-winning-author-accused-of-being-ai> [accessed 26 June 2026]

·       Dias, Elizabeth. To understand Pope Leo’s efforts on AI, look at the man three seats away.’ The Star, 31 May 2026. <https://www.thestar.com.my/news/focus/2026/05/31/to-understand-pope-leos-efforts-on-ai-look-at-the-man-three-seats-away>  [accessed 26 June 2026]

***

Aneeta Sundararaj is an award-winning short story writer. To know more about her work, visit http://www.howtotellagreatstory.com and http://aneetasundararaj.com 

I have been in a state of ‘emotional unwell-being’ for seven years. There, I’ve said it. Why? Well, after my father died, I believed that if I reached out with love to ‘good friends’, counsellors, suitors, and relatives, there could be pockets of joy to offset my grief and loneliness, thereby maintaining my emotional well-being. Instead, I received repeated metaphorical slaps in the face. It’s quite something to observe them profess to want to heal people and publicly pontificate about compassion, empathy, kindness, gratitude and, wait for it, meditation and mindfulness, all the while being stunned by their need to hurt me.

Ever had that feeling that you’ve waited years for something to happen and then, it happens all at once? And it is bigger and wilder than anything you imagined?

Well, that’s exactly what transpired in the first two weeks of October 2025 when the various facets of my life converged to create memories that will last a lifetime.

Let’s start with the night of 3 October. I was at a cocktail reception for the participants of the Asian Literary Festival in Brussels. While sharing edited versions of our history, I told fellow writers about the day trip I took that morning.

“Where?” A long-time resident of the city frowned and cocked her head to one side.

“Geel.” 

The unspoken question in her eyes was the following: Why on earth would you go there? I’d seen this look before, in the eyes of the lady who helped me buy the ticket to Geel at Brussels’ Grand Central Station. Only, the ticketing officer had added, “Are you okay? You look stressed.”

“I’m always stressed,” I said, partly for something to say.

“Stress is bad.”

Ouch!

Nonetheless, ‘stress’ was the perfect segue to answering yet another question posed by my fellow writer at the festival: “Why did you go to Geel?” Meaning, why did I avoid tourist attractions like trips to Bruges, Antwerp and Ghent? The answer lies in a book I wrote early in my career as a writer – a biography of Dato’ Seri Dr. M. Mahadevan, or as I know him, Uncle Tuan.

Side note: Since the publication of that biography, many have asked how I succeeded in working with so cantankerous a man. True. Where other interviewees told their stories in chronological order and in one language, Uncle Tuan mixed timelines, characters, places and, in some cases, languages / scripts. The trick was to listen so completely, without distraction of any sort, and the stories which emerged were easy to write. One such story was that of St. Dymphna of Geel.

Legend has it that Dymphna was the beautiful and devoted daughter of an Irish chieftain, Damon. Both father and daughter were grief stricken when Dymphna’s mother passed away. Looking for a new wife, Damon realised that no one would be as good as his daughter. Alas, no such woman existed save for Dymphna. Horrified by her father’s proposal of marriage, Dymphna fled to Continental Europe with the help of her confessor Gerebran. Damon pursued them and demanded Dymphna surrender to him. She refused and said that she would rather die than commit incest. In a fit of anger, Damon beheaded both Gerebran and Dymphna. Following this violent act, he experienced an immediate recovery and sought redemption. The spot where Dymphna and Gerebran were killed became a shrine and according to Google/AI, ‘St. Dymphna's legacy is the development of a unique, compassionate, and community-based approach to mental healthcare … which continues today.’

Uncle Tuan did tell me that this community-based approach to mental healthcare was what underscored his work. Meaning, all who know Uncle Tuan will know of ‘Uncle’ who became his butler-cum-valet-cum-secretary. Also, with the creation of his stud farm (Madhuban) in Perak, Uncle Tuan combined both his loves – psychiatry and horse-riding – thereby providing refuge and compassion for those troubled souls who live in and around the area. Having met some of these people in Uncle Tuan’s life, I could see that the common thread among them all was what he’d instilled in them – a knowledge that they mattered.

When this opportunity to visit Belgium came along, I couldn’t think of a better adventure than to make this ‘pilgrimage’ to Geel. It didn’t matter that I couldn’t enter the church since it was closed for the winter because what I came to see was on the outside – the bas-relief depicting the beheading of Dymphna. Wouldn’t it have been more apt if Damon was holding the chopped-off head of Dymphna? Just saying…

Another side note: When I was a child, I liked it when Uncle Tuan came to Alor Setar because that often meant a visit to the Royal Kedah Club for the races. When gambling was forbidden, the race track was converted to the golf course. The significance of this Royal Kedah Club will become apparent soon. Bear with me, please.

Back to my story. For the last ten years or so, the memory of what had happened to my grandparents’ house in Sungai Petani had been weighing on my mind. Initially a wooden hut which Grandpa acquired sometime in mid-20th century, it grew and grew after the War. By the time Grandpa died in 1972, the house had become like a one-stop medical centre with recovery rooms, a surgical unit, X-ray machine, pathology lab, ophthalmology kit and even dental tools. Grandpa wanted to create a space for patients to heal from all manner of ailments. For all the years my grandmother was a widow, however, the doors to Gandpa’s clinic and dispensary were shut. The only time the house came alive was when my cousins made their annual visit from India for one month. My grandmother certainly lived a good life, but the Sungai Petani house gradually crumbled around her. In Alor Setar, I'd seen way too many houses sold to developers because the children no longer cared to come to Alor Setar. Those houses were 'chopped up' into several businesses or razed to the ground to create yet another mini market; most heartbreaking of all was the one that became a carpark. I told my mother that I feared that, one day, I’d be another old woman rattling around in our crumbling house. I shared my plans for the future of our house and she both approved of them and gave me her blessing.

In January this year, after Mummy’s death, I contacted Dato’ Dr. Andrew Mohanraj (Andrew), President of the Malaysian Mental Health Association with an idea: Why not use our house to set up the Kedah Chapter of the Malaysian Mental Health Association? Why this particular man, and why this particular association? Well, I’ve waxed lyrical about Andrew’s work and will direct you to read an earlier published interview with him. Besides, Uncle Tuan regards him as his protégé and that’s as good enough a reason as any, no? This was also my chance to make my support for the cause of mental health in Malaysia something more than mere lip service.

With that first email to Andrew, the wheels were set in motion. In the coming months, bit by bit, person by person, group by group, people started to show their interest in, commitment towards and support for MMHA (Kedah). I was touched by how enthusiastic so many of them were (still are) and how willing they were to give of themselves, their resources and time. By mid-August, a team was in place and a launch was scheduled to coincide with the celebrations for World Mental Health Day (10 October).

Remember how I said everything became bigger and wilder than I imagined? Well, when Andrew came to meet the team in person, he brought along news that HRH Che Puan Muda Zaheeda Mohamad Ariff, the Raja Puan Muda of Kedah, had consented to being appointed the Royal Patron of MMHA and would grace the event we had yet to properly plan. I didn’t have fingernails left to bite from the sheer excitement, nervousness and stress such news created. Honestly! What manner of magic was this, I thought. Still, from that moment, all plans for this launch went into high gear.

The Royal Kedah Club was chosen as the venue for the event where three things were to happen – HRH’s appointment as the Royal Patron of MMHA, the launch of MMHA (Kedah), and the launch of Andrew’s book, ‘A Journey through Mental Health and Society’ (‘our launch’). The irony of it all, I tell you…

Looking back, the most amusing part of this planning process was the flurry of messages sent to the group which woke me up one very early, dreary morning in Brussels. The distress wasn’t about travel arrangements, food restrictions, non-compliance with rules or breach of protocol. It was about what to wear. Oh my! How they discussed the sports jackets, lounge suits, ties, a bow-tie, songkok, and there was even the odd mention of James Bond. As you may have guessed, all this was among the boys. The girls? Not a word! We did what comes naturally – in a state of sheer panic the day before the event, we went shopping.

And so it was that on 13 October, our launch went off without a hitch. Throughout, I prayed that I wouldn’t burst into tears for uppermost in my mind was my hope that Mummy would be proud of what was taking place.

Yet another side note: 13 October 2025 was also the first anniversary of the launch of my collection of short stories Tapestry of the Mind and Other Stories (Penguin Random House SEA, June 2024). All the stories have a mental health slant to them and each one is prefaced by a quote from Andrew’s monthly columns in The Star. I was asked, during one of the panels at the Asian Literary Festival, which story was my favourite. Without doubt, it would be Say Hello to Yama about the goings-on in the village of Kampung Sungai Tua before, during and in the aftermath of a landslide. Seemed apt considering the theme for this year’s World Mental Health Day is ‘Access to Services – Mental Health in Catastrophe and Emergencies’.

In his speech during the launch, Andrew mentioned that my contribution of our house to be used as MMHA (Kedah) will become a worthy legacy, thereby implying that this is a starting point. I would prefer to think of it more as that of continuing / extending the legacy of two people who came before me whose work / martyrdom ended up creating spaces where afflicted souls could seek refuge without the stain of stigma. Or, as I said to my mother when we discussed this matter, "Let our house live once again."

***

• Asian Literary Festival in Brussels: https://brussels.theasianliteraryfestival.com • In The Shade of A Mango Tree - Interview with Dato’ Dr. Andrew Mohanraj : 15 January 2019): https://howtotellagreatstory.com/the-written-word/blow-your-own-trumpet/in-the-shade-of-a-mango-tree-interview-with-dato-dr-andrew-mohanraj-15-january-2019

• Evolution of the Malaysian Mental Health Association : https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Fw0WJAwmPMI

• Launch Malaysian Mental Health Association (Kedah) and ‘A Journey through Mental Health and Society’ : https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_1FRyg3vmhw

• Tapestry of the Mind and Other Stories by Aneeta Sundararaj (Penguin Random House SEA, June 2024): https://www.penguin.sg/book/tapestry-of-the-mind-and-other-stories/

***

Aneeta Sundararaj is an award-winning short story writer. To know more about her work, visit http://www.howtotellagreatstory.com and http://aneetasundararaj.com 

About a month ago, a comment in the forum from a fellow-participant of a writing programme jumped out at me: ‘My agent, who has had my book on sub for two years and sent it like to six people has finally decided to quit the industry entirely.’

I shared it with a local writer-friend. While we discussed how we’d counsel her if she were seated in front of us, I also shared my mother’s advice when something similar happened to me, especially when one of the emotions mentioned in the said forum was grief.

“Wallow, but only for a bit.”

You see, sometime in 2010 (I think – I forget, now), an agent had accepted the manuscript for The Age of Smiling Secrets and we signed a contract. When publishers were keen-but-not-keen, I suggested we stop submitting and consider reworking the novel. A few days after Christmas 2012, I received an email that shocked me to the core. Let me set the scene for you.

I was seated opposite my mother at our dining table, busy downloading my emails. My dachshund, Ladoo, sat on the floor next to my mother’s feet, desperately hoping Mummy would accidentally (or intentionally) drop a peanut for her consumption. The email from the agent came through letting me know that our contract was unilaterally terminated because I’d not agreed to fundamentally change the novel (more about my reasons why below). I understood the depth of my shock when Ladoo, who sensed my incredible sadness, abandoned her desire for peanuts and came to me and demanded I take her onto my lap. She allowed me to hold on tight in similar fashion as when an ex left. This is why I gave this piece the title of ‘Dumped’. So, yes, the grief is real – grief for this lost business relationship, or one that could have flourished had it been given a chance.

Observing the change that came over me, my mother asked for an explanation. When she understood what had come to pass, she told me to allow myself to feel the sadness. I was allowed to cry, be frustrated and wallow for a bit.

“Feel the fear and do it anyway.”

When most romantic relationships end, the advice that many will give (which I’ve observed is mostly from men, incidentally) is that one should ‘move on’. My question is, ‘Move on from what?’ This is especially when one hasn’t had such a deep relationship with another, or a relationship at all. I prefer the advice my mother gave me: “Once you’ve finished wallowing, feel the fear and do it anyway.”

Back to my story with the agent. When I was dumped, I was scared to submit the manuscript to anyone else. I didn’t want to do the whole do-your-research-and-submit because this presupposed that I hadn’t done my research before. Also, wasn’t there a popular saying that ‘insanity was doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results?’ So, I dilly-dallied and did nothing to move The Age of Smiling Secrets along on its publication journey.

By chance, I happened to read Salman Rushdie’s Joseph Anton and the part of the text that stayed with me was his experience submitting a manuscript to agents / publishers. He was asked to significantly alter one of his manuscripts to such an extent that the story would change entirely. They did this to him? To Salman Rushdie? Keep in mind that, by this time, he was already a much-celebrated Booker Prize winner. Let me repeat: they did this to him?

If they could do this to him, it had to come as no surprise they could do it to me.

So, I decided to take a little time out and find a new way to make this manuscript appeal to others. It’s at this moment that I also benefitted from the kindness of strangers. A subscriber to my newsletter at the time suggested that I contact Jericho Writers. Cut long story short, I worked with Debi Alper, joined a self-edit course and learnt the magic that is psychic distance.

Meanwhile, ‘life’ happened and publication of the novel took a back seat. By March 2013, Ladoo died and soon after that, one after another, uncles, aunts and friends passed away with the last being my father in 2016. In 2017, by sheer chance, I saw a call for submissions from the Commonwealth Foundation about stories from descendants of indenture. I took a chapter out of the novel, edited it and submitted the story. When it was published, my confidence was bolstered. I approached a local publisher and they agreed to help me self-publish it. By October 2018, we launched The Age of Smiling Secrets.

“Choose the advice to follow”

This advice was, perhaps, the single-most important thing my mother said. Meaning, remember what I said about how Rushdie was treated? Well, let’s return to my novel and I’ll share three of the pieces of advice from highly regarded, award-winning agents /editors which didn’t make any sense at the time, and still don’t.

1.     “No one cares what the Malaysian (or Asian) reader thinks.”

2.     “You must follow what I say if you want publishers to accept your manuscript.”

3.     “Agents and publishers don’t consider manuscripts entered into (or those that win) writing contests.

As is obvious, I ignored a lot of the advice given, the most important one being to change my story in a fundamental way. Briefly, The Age of Smiling Secrets explores the story of a woman who loses her child because her husband converts to Islam and, without her knowledge or consent, converts their child as well. The laws of the land allow for this. I was asked to make the focus of my novel a courtroom scene where the mother prevents this from happening. From a character-driven novel, it would become a plot-driven one. Worse, fellow lawyers would laugh at me. The reality is that the aggrieved parent doesn’t know that a conversion has taken place and only learns of this after the fact.

So, when I approached Jericho Writers for help, I asked a specific question: “Can you help me make the story I am trying to tell better resonate with my readers?” Debi Alper was compassionate enough in her editing of the novel that I got to tell the story in a way that made me happy.

I narrated this entire story of what happened with the agent during one of my panels at the Asian Literary Festival in Brussels. One in the audience stated that, in standing my ground, I had integrity. Perhaps. The truth of the matter is that I wouldn’t have been able to sleep had I done what was initially demanded of me. While The Age of Smiling Secrets didn’t end up being represented by a UK agent or published there, I am proud that it was shortlisted for Anugerah Buku 2020 organised by the National Library of Malaysia. Furthermore, in 2025, it was translated into Bahasa Indonesia under a new title ‘Rahasia di Sebalik Senyuman’.

That’s a good outcome, no?

***

• Asian Literary Festival in Brussels: https://brussels.theasianliteraryfestival.com

• The Age of Smiling Secrets by Aneeta Sundararaj (https://aneetasundararaj.com/books-by-aneeta/the-age-of-smiling-secrets)

• Rahasia di Sebalik Senyuman by Aneeta Sundararaj (alitra, 2025): https://alitra.id/publikasi/rahasia-di-balik-senyuman/ 

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Aneeta Sundararaj is an award-winning short story writer. To know more about her work, visit http://www.howtotellagreatstory.com and http://aneetasundararaj.com 

15 Habits of Writers Who Are Mentally Tough by Aneeta Sundararaj

Earlier this year, I read an article by Travis Bradberry (https://www.entrepreneur.com/article/248234) where he sets out 15 habits that mentally tough people should have. I analysed the same 15 habits, but applied them to the writing/publishing industry. Here’s what I came up with:

Semantics of Democracy

In the wake of the dramatic political events in the Middle East in February 2011, there are many who wonder if some countries there will now embrace democracy. Indeed, since the revolution in Egypt, there is analysis of how fast its citizens were able to start the revolution to oust the regime of Hosni Mubarak. Also, there has been debate about the blueprint for democracy that Egypt will now adopt. From a writer’s perspective, however, one question remains strangely unanswered: what, actually, does the word ‘democracy’ mean?

Orwell, Bell and the English Language

When I started writing many, many years ago, a friend referred me to 2 resources. One was an essay by George Orwell called ‘Politics and the English Language’. I studied the essay, summarised the points and have used the teachings ever since. The other was a book called ‘Plot and Structure’ by James Scott Bell. I’d like to share what I learnt below.

7 Genres for Your Novel and How to Choose the Right One

“Go to the bookstore and you’ll see my new book on the shelves,” said a recently published author. Her book was a fictionalised account of her spiritual journey and finding God a year after her divorce. Two days later, I was at the Customer Services desk of the bookstore, giving the lady the title of the book, name of author and even the ISBN. This was after I’d already looked for the book in the ‘Literature’, ‘Asian Writers’ and ‘New Releases’ parts of the Fiction section. The lady entered all the details into the computer and voilà, she knew where the book was.

You’re delighted with the bonus you’ve received for a job well done. You spend the holidays with your family and it’s a happy time. A month later, you find that you’ve been promoted and this adds to your happiness. By the end of the month, though, that happiness seems to have paled. A mere six weeks later, you admit that this is a recurring pattern in your life where your initial happiness gives way to sadness; after all, these are yet another set of achievements that you’ve checked off your list. It’s almost as if that absolute happiness is fleeting and momentary.