I disagree with this. The university system is really good for exposure, assuming that people who are attending the system actually take advantage of the exposure. e.g. I was able to take dedicated lessons in multiple languages, artistic mediums, theories in various fields, by experts in each field. Many of these experts were presenting their work for free outside of lessons, and often times provided free food and drink to boot! Also, because my institution was larger, we often had scholars travel here to present their various works and even little get-togethers where multiple scholars from multiple fields collaborated and presented work. For free! With free food and drink!

I can't get a single dedicated language instructor for my life nowadays, it's bullshit apps or stuff oriented towards children only. Same if I wanted to learn the basics of, say, a performance art, or painting. The best system I have nowadays for learning is mostly hacker spaces and maker spaces, but they're specialized in what they can teach me and don't often have the kind of dedicated experts "office hours" or anything like that.

Just be upfront: removing jobs is drowning people. That's it. Don't comfort yourself with "retraining" programs like they mean anything. They don't. Acting like you're giving them an oar is just insulting them on top of taking their livelihoods, so I understand the anger.

Of course one of the things to note is that the books with disproportionate BookTok audience whose sales are driven this way are often written by pretty, white, well-off women.

The Spear Cuts Through Water by Simon Jimenez is a time travel story, kind of, through the lens of a descendant of the protagonists of the main novel, kind of. It's a fantastical ancient story told to a descendant by an aging relative in relatively modern day, and while that story is told it is also told to the reader as if it's actually happening, and then timelines are crossed over.

The Saint of Bright Doors by Vajra Chandrasekera is about a guy who starts a support group for the almost-chosen-- people who, by happenstance, weren't chosen by prophecies. Like literally it's like "yeah, so my sister was chosen to herald the apocalypse, but I still have visions of angels and I have to drink myself to sleep", "yeah, my cousin was chosen to kill my godfather, I'm just stuck with chainsaws for hands". But it's much more dissociated, and much more unattached-- and the reason for this becomes clear at the very end.

I recently finished The Archive Undying by Emma Meiko Candon. That book is full of characters with ambiguous identities, characters with ambiguous motives-- everyone is hiding who they are from everyone else, not in a murder mystery way but in a complex conspiracy format where everyone actually has their own mini-conspiracy going on. Of course this is in the context of "giant mech-god corpse is being resurrected to fight mech-god monsters", so there's a fundamental awesomeness. But, y'know, when god-AIs can jack into your brain, or connect brains to each other, or jack into each other, the story can no longer hold linearity in an easy sip read.

I don't know how you can scientifically glean any conclusion that the artist was trying to discover or perspect, here, as effectively as she is trying to do so.

The problem with AI has been always that it removes from the artist the act the artist finds joy in, the work to create a beautiful final product, and leaves only the most boring and meh parts: contract negotiation, right fights, pay and attribution concerns, etc.