Meet Muse.
The first AI made for fiction, designed for authors.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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...
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.
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.
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.
Basic AI writes boring emails.
Muse is just for fiction
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?
Basic AI spews clichés.
Muse writes unique prose every single time
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?
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.”
The most advanced narrative AI is just for 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
- Show, Don't Tell
- Longer Scene Output
- Believable Dialogue
- More Specific Descriptions
- Matches Your Style
- Show, Don't Tell
- Longer Scene Output
- Believable Dialogue
- More Specific Descriptions
Longer attention for chapter-length outputs. Muse handles thousands of words, not just snippets.
#muse (Year 2150 scene)
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 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.”
"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."
"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.”
"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.”
"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…"