It has come to the Literary Man’s attention that robots have been designed to edit manuscripts. Well, okay, they’re not robots, exactly, but they’re not human, either. So what are they? Are they friend or are they foe?

The role of technology in the realm of art has long been documented; but so, also, has literature welcomed, even celebrated, different voices and perspectives. If robots can edit manuscripts today, is it so unreasonable to think that robots will someday be writing manuscripts of their own?

The Literary Man doesn’t lose sleep over these ridiculous questions; rather, he’s interested in the possible development of a Brobot, a hybridized Brother-Robot, who would help the Literary Man write his novel without, in the process, becoming self-aware. Brobot would also fill the social needs currently met by the Epic Poet and Portly Producer, both of whom hate the Literary Man’s novel (all three pages of it) and have secretly sworn to prevent its completion at all costs.

Wherefore art thou, Brobot?

The hands of Brobot, taking the Literary Man's dictation.