用AI写小说月入8k，第一步不是让AI写而是建角色库 (English)

Generated: 2026-06-21 20:44:08

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Okay, got the instructions. As an editor, I’ll fact-check and polish this article, aiming to: correct factual errors, remove the AI vibe, and keep the substance and sharp, conversational tone.

Here’s the revised version:

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I Used AI to Write Novels and Made a Steady $8,000 in 3 Months! But You’re Making the First Mistake! (With Practical Steps)

Lately, my WeChat has been blowing up with questions from friends who write web novels.

They jump straight in: “Bro, be honest! Can you really make money writing novels with AI?”

The look in their eyes—like asking if that fortune teller on the street can actually change your fate—half hopeful, half scared of being scammed.

Let me tell you straight: Yes, you can. But if you think AI is a magic wishing well where you toss in “Write me a hit novel” and then lie back waiting for cash to rain down? Dream on!

Three months ago, I started taking this seriously. Now? My monthly revenue sits steadily around $8,000.

Sounds modest, right? But do you know how much time I spend each day? Two hours.

What do I do with the rest? Hang out with my kid, play games, binge-watch shows—none of it’s been sacrificed. My life now feels like a retired senior’s, and I’m loving every second.

You might not believe this: Both using AI, why does one person go from zero to eight grand in three months, while another spins their wheels for the same time and gets nowhere?

The difference is just one thing—the first step!

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The Mistake You’re Making Without Even Knowing It

I’ve seen too many people dive in with flashy moves:

Open the AI chat, type “Write a chapter of a fantasy novel where the protagonist is a loser who turns things around, with a cheat ability,” then clasp their hands, expecting the AI to spit out thousands of words of brilliance.

What happens?

The output is full of “He threw a punch with overwhelming force,” “His momentum was like a rainbow,” “The young man’s eyes were firm”—honestly, it’s more cliché than the cringey essays I wrote in middle school! Readers spot it’s AI-written in three seconds and swipe away without looking back.

Think about it: What’s the problem?

You’re treating AI like a typewriter.

You ask it to write for you, and it gives you the most average, safest, blandest generic version. It’s like going to a restaurant and saying, “Just give me whatever.” The chef will serve you the safest tomato and egg stir-fry—never wrong, but never amazing either.

That’s not AI’s fault.

It’s because your instructions are blander than plain water.

What do the people who actually make money do? They treat AI as a collaboration tool, not a ghostwriter. You handle the taste, judgment, and material feeding; it handles the grunt work, details, and expansions. You’re the head chef; it’s the prep cook.

Does a head chef blame the knife? No. The chef just says, “This knife needs sharpening.”

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My Core Method: Just 4 Steps, 2 Hours a Day Is Plenty

The workflow I’ve figured out might sound simple to you.

But 90% of people fail because they think it’s “too much trouble.”

Step 1: Build a Character Database—Don’t Let AI Get Amnesia

What’s the biggest fear when writing a long novel?

Character inconsistency.

Think about it: In chapter three, you write “He can’t fly at the Qi Refining stage,” but in chapter fifteen, suddenly “Flying with a sword at Qi Refining is basic.” Readers will curse you! Their heads are full of question marks: “Did the author change writers?”

So before I start writing, I do one thing—

Create a detailed character card for every major character: name, personality, speech habits, behavior logic, background, even their favorite catchphrase. At least 300 words of setting per character.

Then, every time I ask AI to generate a new chapter, I first feed it the relevant character files.

Why?

Because AI’s context window is limited; it can’t remember what you said three days ago. If you’re too lazy to feed it, it’ll make stuff up, and characters will fall apart. It’s like chatting with a friend who has a bad memory—they forget everything you said last week and start rambling this week. Can you stand that?

Here’s a practical prompt template you can use directly:

“You are a platinum-level writer specializing in urban supernatural fiction. Below is the character setting for the protagonist, Lin Ye: [paste 300-word setting]. Based on this setting, write a 500-word scene: Lin Ye enters the supernatural ability awakening test site for the first time. His reaction must match his personality of ‘outwardly careless, inwardly extremely cautious.’ Don’t use first-person; focus on action descriptions and subtle expressions.”

See? Role, task, context, format, constraints—all clear. AI won’t go off track.

Step 2: Polish in Segments—Write Only 2,000 Words at a Time

Many people are greedy for speed.

They ask AI to generate an entire 8,000-word chapter in one go. Result? The first half is okay, but the second half starts rambling, the plot derails, and characters go off the rails like they’re drunk.

I only ask AI to write 2,000 to 3,000 words each time. As soon as it’s generated, I immediately edit.

Delete those AI-favorite connectors like “however,” “but,” “meanwhile,” and replace them with my own natural speech habits. People who find this step troublesome skip it. They get stuck at step two and never move up.

When editing, I pay special attention to one thing: add “human touch.”

AI is good at writing standard actions, but it doesn’t know what “heartbeat” means.

Here’s an example to make it clear:

❌ AI wrote: “She was very sad.”

✅ I revised: “She buried her face in the pillow, tears soaking the already faded cotton cloth—the one her mother had sewn for her before she passed away.”

See the difference? The first is a statement; the second is a scene with details and emotional connection.

That’s why readers feel “this story has warmth.”

Step 3: Use the RACE Framework for Prompts—Stop Using One-Liners

About two months ago, I was still using garbage instructions like “Write a fight scene for me.”

Later, I tried over 20 different prompt frameworks. The one I stuck with is RACE—why? Because it’s easy to remember, easy to use, and sufficient.

R = Role: Tell AI who it is. Don’t say “You are AI.” Say “You are a writer specializing in Eastern fantasy, good at slow buildup followed by sudden explosions, similar to the early style of ‘Immortal Rebellion.’”

A = Task: Specify what to do. “Generate the text for Chapter 7, 2,500-3,000 words.”

C = Context: Give it background. “The protagonist just obtained the Yin-Yang Pearl in the secret realm, but an elder has taken notice, and he doesn’t know it’s a trap.”

E = Format + Constraints: “Output in Markdown, each paragraph no more than 200 words, dialogue on separate lines, no use of ‘meanwhile.’”

Here’s a complete example:

“You are a suspense short story writer with 10 years of experience, especially skilled at creating twists at the end. Based on the following outline [paste outline], write the first 500 words of Chapter 1. Requirements: First-person perspective from ‘I,’ the first sentence must be an abnormal psychological activity (e.g., ‘I knew I would die today, but I didn’t expect it to be like this’). No internal monologue-style background introductions; all information should be conveyed through actions and dialogue. Output the text outside code blocks.”

The clearer you are, the less it strays.

Step 4: Choose the Right Model and Platform—Don’t Blindly Follow Trends

First, about models. Don’t be superstitious about expensive ones.

From my own tests:

• DeepSeek is best for fantasy and classical Chinese style. Free, native Chinese, sufficient. I use it for outlines and first drafts.
• Claude has strong long-text coherence and natural dialogue. But it’s paid; I use it for climax scenes.
• Doubao can handle long files, good for feeding setting documents. If you have a big outline and world-building to dump in one go, it’s more convenient than DeepSeek.

Don’t hoard tools. Stick with one you’re comfortable with and master it. My main tool is