Writing Dystopia & Utopia: Pushing the Real World to Extremes

Rosemi Mederos: 00:01

If you have plot bunnies coming out of your plot holes, it’s time for a writing break.

Today, I’m sharing several important news stories about authors and copyrights. I’m also talking about dystopia and utopia, which are two genres where society itself can be seen as the main protagonist or the main antagonist. Authors of dystopia & utopia build worlds that have their own power, control, ideology, and belief systems, and then they tell us what they think happens when people try to live inside these worlds. As a basic overview, when the world is oppressive and cruel, it’s dystopia, and when the world is harmonious and seemingly perfect, it’s utopia. So, in this episode, I’ll define these two genres and talk about why the fictional world often acts like a character, and I’ll end by sharing the most common mistakes writers make when tackling big social ideas.

’ll it be? Victory Gin from: 1984

Amazon recently began rolling out a new Kindle feature called “Ask This Book,” and it’s not necessarily a good thing for authors. Here’s how Ask This Book works. While reading a Kindle ebook, readers can type a question directly into the device—questions like Who is this character?, What happened earlier in the book?, and What’s the relationship between these two characters? An AI-generated response outputs in real time, drawing on the text of the book the reader already owns. The feature is currently appearing on some Kindle devices and in the Kindle iOS app. Amazon describes this as an extension of existing search and note-taking tools, essentially a more conversational way to navigate a book’s contents. From a reader’s perspective, it feels like having an on-demand study guide embedded inside the book.

Now, here’s where things get complicated. The Authors Guild has issued a formal statement raising serious concerns about this feature. According to the Guild, Ask This Book goes beyond being just a search tool and transforms books into interactive, AI-enhanced products, similar to annotated editions or enhanced ebooks. And those kinds of products have traditionally required separate licensing agreements and additional compensation for authors.

The Guild’s concern is twofold. First, authors and publishers were not asked for permission before their books were included in this feature, and there is currently no way to opt out. Second, the Guild argues that AI-generated summaries and explanations may constitute a derivative use of copyrighted material, one that goes beyond what most publishing and retail contracts allow. Sure, readers might find this feature convenient, but who is supposed to control how books are transformed once they’re sold and whether authors should be compensated when their work becomes the raw material for new AI-driven experiences?

Amazon, for its part, says that Ask This Book uses only the text of the book the reader already owns and that it does not train AI models on that content. From Amazon’s perspective, this is still reader-side functionality rather than a new publishing format. The Authors Guild disagrees and says features like this could undercut an emerging market where authors and publishers license interactive or AI-enhanced editions intentionally and with pay structures in place. This debate matters because it signals the next frontier in publishing. Yes, AI is capable of interacting with books, but who gets to decide how it interacts and who gets paid when it does? The Guild has said it will continue monitoring the situation and advocating for author consent and compensation as AI tools become more deeply embedded in reading platforms.

Let’s talk about one of the biggest copyright developments in publishing and AI so far.

Anthropic, the company behind the Claude AI system, has agreed to a proposed $1.5 billion settlement with a group of authors who sued the company for allegedly using pirated copies of their books to train its AI models. According to court filings and news reports, the lawsuit claimed that Anthropic trained its systems on hundreds of thousands of books sourced from piracy databases, without author permission. The settlement would compensate authors at roughly $3,000 per book, depending on how many eligible works are included and how claims are processed. If approved by the court, this would be one of the largest copyright settlements in publishing history and one of the first major financial reckonings for an AI company over training on pirated books. The settlement also requires Anthropic to delete the pirated datasets used for training. That’s a key point: this is not just about money. How training data is sourced needs to change.

Now, here’s where things get especially important for authors. The Authors Guild has published guidance explaining what this settlement means and, critically, what it means to opt out. If you are eligible under the settlement and you do nothing, you may be included automatically. That means you could receive compensation. If you opt out, you keep your individual right to pursue your own legal action against Anthropic. That might make sense for some authors, especially if they believe their damages are larger than what the settlement would provide or if they want to remain part of broader legal challenges to AI training practices.

The Authors Guild emphasizes that this is a strategic decision. Opting in could mean faster, guaranteed compensation. Opting out preserves your right to sue but also means you may receive no settlement money and would need to pursue legal remedies on your own. The Guild is encouraging authors to carefully review whether their works are included, understand the claims process, and think seriously about whether accepting the settlement aligns with their long-term interests.

This is one of the clearest signals yet that collective action can force tech companies to negotiate. The fight over how creative work is used to train AI is still unfolding, but this case sets a precedent that using pirated books for AI training can carry massive financial consequences, even if courts are still debating whether training on legally obtained books qualifies as fair use. If you think your work may be affected, I strongly recommend seeing what your options are by checking the Authors Guild’s resources, of course, and the official settlement site.

rant he had made in the early: 1960

The Authors Guild filed a friend-of-the-court brief alongside other creator groups—like the Romance Writers of America and the Songwriters Guild of America— and they argued that limiting termination to U.S. rights would undermine the intent of the law. Congress designed these termination provisions to protect authors from being locked into one-sided contracts they signed early in their careers, often without bargaining power. The Guild’s argument is that restricting those rights to domestic use would allow publishers to continue exploiting works abroad after termination, weakening the value of those reclaimed rights. For authors, this is a significant development. If you’ve granted foreign rights to a publisher and want to terminate those rights along with your U.S. rights, this ruling strengthens your ability to do so under existing statute. However, it does not replace the need to follow the proper notice procedures and contract language when filing for termination. The decision may still be challenged on appeal, but for now, it represents a meaningful expansion of authors’ legal tools.

nding down operations in late: 2025

This closing of Baker & Taylor is causing disruption in publishing. Many libraries are scrambling to find new distributors, cataloging is delayed, and short-term gaps are appearing on shelves as institutions adjust to the sudden change. So, what does this mean for authors? The closure affects how books get to library patrons and how authors are discovered through those channels. For authors and publishers, Baker & Taylor’s role historically helped ensure new titles were available in libraries soon after publication, giving those books a boost to discoverability. With that system disrupted, some authors are reporting late or missing royalty payments and uncertainty about how many libraries have received their books.

So, what should you, the author, do now? Reach out to your publisher to understand whether any library orders or payments have been affected. Confirm that your titles are available through alternate distributors, such as Ingram or Bookazine, so that libraries can still purchase and carry your work. If you’re self-published, double-check your metadata and distribution channels to maintain visibility for libraries moving forward. The Authors Guild also notes that while the closure presents short-term challenges, other companies are actively expanding their services to help fill the gap in the library supply chain. What’s clear is this: with Baker & Taylor exiting the stage, authors, publishers, and libraries are navigating a new landscape for how books are ordered, cataloged, and delivered to readers. I’ll continue to monitor developments and provide updates as the situation evolves.

In publishing and free-speech news, the Authors Guild, once again, has issued a strong statement condemning the recent use of automated systems, including AI bots and algorithmic tools, to generate and enforce book ban lists in Texas public schools and libraries.

OK, here’s what’s going on:

In several Texas school districts, decision-makers have relied on automated scanning tools and bot-generated lists to identify books for review or removal. These tools purportedly flag titles based on keywords or metadata connected to sensitive topics, like sexuality, race, gender, and then these tools automatically feed those flags into censorship decisions without meaningful human context or review. I can understand this approach, considering the threat to arrest librarians last year. At the end of the day, you could just blame it on the bot. But critics of this approach argue that delegating such judgments to bots is fundamentally flawed. Amen. Systems lack nuance. They cannot interpret context, intent, or narrative complexity. And when they’re used as the primary basis for banning books, the result is sweeping censorship that includes titles with legitimate literary, educational, or historical value.

In their statement, the Authors Guild called this use of technology “deeply troubling,” and they criticized the reliance on automated lists to drive book bans. They point out that using bots and keyword filters to restrict access to books undermines basic principles of due process and intellectual freedom, and disproportionately harms authors, educators, and students who benefit from access to a wide range of ideas and perspectives. The Guild’s position is clear: AI tools should not be used to decide what books children can or cannot read. Decisions about educational content should involve thoughtful human review, professional educators, librarians, and most importantly, respect for free expression.

This is part of a broader national conversation about book bans. While concerns about age-appropriate material in schools are legitimate, the Guild and other free-speech advocates argue that replacing careful human judgment with automated bans creates an overbroad, scattershot censorship regime that censors vital books along with any that some find uncomfortable. The Authors Guild is urging us to reject bot-driven blacklists and instead establish transparent, fair, and human-centered review processes when concerns about content arise.

As always, links to all of these stories can be found in the show notes of this episode. Now, let’s discuss Dystopian & Utopian fiction over on the very utopian Overthinking Couch.

A dystopia is an imagined society designed to warn us. It exaggerates real-world problems and pushes them to an extreme. The problems are often authoritarianism, surveillance, inequality, and environmental collapse. A utopia, on the other hand, is an imagined society designed to test an idea. It asks: What if we organized the world differently? What if this system actually worked? And in both genres, the story is answering the same two questions: What kind of world are we building? and What does it cost to live in it?

Readers come to these genres expecting social and political commentary, immersion in a fully imagined system, a strong “what if” premise, and consequences, both intended and unintended. There is no subtle background world-building. In dystopia and utopia, the society is the story. Dystopian fiction is fundamentally about warning. It takes something already present in our world and asks: What happens if this keeps going? Margaret Atwood’s The Handmaid's Tale is not about the future. It’s about existing power structures taken to their logical extreme; structures like gender control, religious extremism, and state surveillance. Good dystopia doesn’t invent fear from nothing. It reframes fear we already recognize. That’s why dystopias feel so uncomfortable. When you’re writing dystopia, ask yourself: What system is being critiqued? Who benefits from that system? Who is harmed by that system? And what happens to someone who refuses to comply?

Now utopias, on the other hand . . . utopias often get dismissed as boring or unrealistic, but that’s usually because we misunderstand what they’re doing. A true utopia is about design rather than perfection. Ursula K. Le Guin’s The Dispossessed explores an anarchist society that has eliminated many traditional hierarchies, but it still struggles with conformity, stagnation, and human ego. Utopian fiction asks: What values shape this society? What has been sacrificed to achieve harmony? Who feels fulfilled here, and who doesn’t? The most compelling utopias reveal cracks beneath the surface because humans are complicated. A utopia becomes interesting the moment someone questions it. That’s why these genres often feel heavy on world-building. The reader needs to understand how the society functions in order to understand why the conflict matters. Characters are shaped by these societies. They’re rewarded by them and punished by them. Laws create conflict. Customs limit behavior. Architecture reinforces ideology. And technology shapes relationships. But the story still moves through people. We experience the system through a single life, a small rebellion, or one forbidden act. The world may be the protagonist or antagonist, but characters are still our point of entry. Now when I say that society is the antagonist or a protagonist . . . you still need a protagonist, an actual character protagonist, and you definitely need antagonists.

Now, let’s talk about what can go wrong. The biggest danger in dystopian and utopian fiction is preachiness. If your story starts sounding like a manifesto, readers will check out. Your job is not to tell readers what to think. It’s to show them what it feels like to live inside your imagined system. Another common pitfall is sacrificing plot for ideology. Big ideas are meaningless if nothing is happening. People need to want something, fear something, and risk something. And finally, avoid building a society so rigid that it leaves no room for surprise. If everything is predictable, there is no tension. Remember that systems break under pressure.

Dystopia and utopia endure because they let us examine our present from a safe distance. They allow us to test ideas without consequences and to imagine futures we fear, or futures we hope for, and ask what choices might lead us there. In dystopia, society is the villain. In utopia, society is the dream. And in both, humanity is the variable.

Before we leave each other, here’s your overthinking prompt for the week. Imagine that a character breaks one law in your imagined society. Don’t dwell on the entire system. Focus on the moment of transgression. What does it cost? What does it reveal? And what happens next? What happens next for you and me, is pretty funny. As is, we’re discussing Satire & Humor next week. Until then, thank you so much for listening, and remember: you deserved this break.

Thank you for making space in your mind for The Muse today.

Writing Break is hosted by America’s Editor and produced by Allon Media with technical direction by Gus Aviles. Visit us at writingbreak.com or contact us at podcast@writingbreak.com.