For Zac, summer is a horny fever-dream spent working with the town's celebrity bad boy in an ice cream kiosk. In Blue Shore, murder scenes become tourist attractions, fashion is alien-inspired, and reality peels apart at the edges. Dogged by the viral sex stream he starred in, and tripping on elf sherbert and blooms—the drugs of choice around here—Zac can’t tell if he’s a killer or just another bloom-blasted head case in this crazy, techno-fairytale town.
CREAM is 100% human written, but AI was a critical tool in its rebirth.
CREAM has evolved. It melted, dripped, and reformed into something fresh. The original CREAM is an artifact of the past (You can still dig it up on Goodreads!). But I wanted to reimagine it to reflect my own personal experiences in a rapidly changing, strange world: the singularity, transcendent visions, the surrealism of existence.
I fed chapters of the orginal CREAM into a digital oracle, and it spat out thematic, dream-like summaries for me to reference in the rewrite. This process distanced me from the original text, allowing me to go beyond jazzing up an old corpse with a bit of blush and lipstick. Instead, I sculpted something else entirely, unleashing this cybernetic, psychedelic, transgressive, unicorn, Frankenstein on a new world.
Whenever I needed reassurance, I asked the machine. It bigged me up, called out problems, told me when to push further, and reassured me that CREAM wasn't too insane to publish. It is incredible that we now have professional copy editors at our fingertips—mirrors to reflect and amplify our own creativity.
CREAM isn’t a book. It’s a feedback loop between flesh and code, human and machine, past and future.
Welcome to the first book of the post-singularity.
Enjoy your lick. 🍦
