How It Began
Why I Decided to Develop Read2Me
I’ve always been at the far end of the reading spectrum—a genuinely fast reader who can move through hundreds of books a year. For as long as I can remember, reading has felt like flying: entire novels compressed into a few hours, worlds unfolding at the speed of thought. It’s a skill that gives me immense joy, and it shaped how I experience stories.
But that same vantage point exposed a problem I couldn’t ignore.
Most people simply cannot consume written stories at the pace needed to stay engaged with them. They want to read. They try to read. But the bottleneck—speed, focus, decoding, vision, or life constraints—turns reading into an exhausting experience rather than an enriching one.
When I began digging deeper, the statistics confirmed what I’d seen firsthand:
reading rates are falling, comprehension challenges are widespread, and millions of people effectively lose access to the worlds that books offer. For them, reading isn’t “slow”—it’s discouraging enough to stop trying.
That’s the gap Read2Me exists to close.
If technology can lower the barrier between a person and a story, then more people can experience books the way I’ve always wished they could—smoothly, fluently, and with the full emotional clarity of knowing who is speaking, what is happening, and why the scene matters.
Read2Me is my attempt to take the advantages I’ve always had as a reader…
and make them accessible to people who love stories just as much, but who have never been able to consume them comfortably or quickly enough.
Stories shouldn’t be gated behind a person’s decoding speed.
They should meet people where they are—eyes-free, hands-free, and cognitively light—without sacrificing the richness of the narrative.
AI
and Creativity
Our Position On AI And Creative Work
The idea that AI is “replacing artists” is a misframing of what is actually happening. Maintaining a purely human‑centric production pipeline for large‑scale content is not sustainable as volume and demand continue to grow. The constraint is not creativity; it is throughput.
AI changes how creative labor is applied, not whether it is needed.
Artists remain essential, but their role shifts upstream. Instead of performing every repetitive unit of work—recording thousands of lines, redrawing near‑identical assets, or manually iterating variations—they provide high‑leverage creative input: training, tuning, directing, and evaluating the system. An hour spent shaping an engine, defining style, or correcting outputs can replace weeks of low‑level production without removing human intent or authorship.
In this model, AI is not an autonomous creator. It is an amplifier. The artist defines the boundaries, the taste, the performance characteristics, and the corrective feedback loop. The machine handles scale; the human handles judgment.
This approach preserves creative control, raises the effective value of skilled artists, and makes it possible to produce work that would otherwise be infeasible. The future of creative production is not human versus AI—it is human through AI, with artists operating at the level where their decisions matter most.