That's funny. Not even a question I would have thought of asking.  I just now tried it, asking if Co-Pilot could offer any help with PPX8.  Its answer? "Absolutely! Consult the manual!"  You have to admit, there may be a built-in sense of humor that we've missed so far.

ME: can you offer any help with Serif PagePlusx8?

COPILOT: Yes! If you're looking for guidance on **Serif PagePlus X8**, you might find the **[official user manual](https://www.manua.ls/serif/pageplus-x8/manual)** helpful—it covers everything from starting a new publication to formatting text, working with images, and applying effects.

Fascinating! I can understand people doing that for old software which is no longer officially supported, but what I actually meant is that some users of the Affinity apps have only posted to the Affinity forums after trying ChatGPT first.

ME: can you offer any help with Serif PagePlusx8?

COPILOT: Yes! If you're looking for guidance on **Serif PagePlus X8**, you might find the **[official user manual](https://www.manua.ls/serif/pageplus-x8/manual)** helpful—it covers everything from starting a new publication to formatting text, working with images, and applying effects.

If you're troubleshooting an issue, the **[Affinity Forum](https://forum.affinity.serif.com/index. … s-x8-help/)** has discussions where users share solutions to common problems, like file association errors after Windows updates.

Are you trying to solve a specific issue or just looking for general tips? I’d be happy to help!

ChatGPT offered up far more info, and offered a list of things that it might be able to help with. By drilling down, it did provide what looked to be accurate answers.  Maybe that could be useful, but you are correct....The help files are probably the more logical place to look.

I hadn't even started on my first cup of coffee, when I wondered how Copilot could assist in piano playing.

I asked it first, if it knew the G-minor scale.

Piece of cake.  So, then I asked it if it knew a chord progression that would go well with that scale. Copilot gave me three 4-chord progressions.  I dinked around with those for a bit, just some improv runs.

Next was to ask it for 6-chord progressions.  Again, it gave me three of them.

So, I asked it for 8-chord progressions, and again it gave me three. Didn't even break a sweat.

In every case, below the chord progression, was a brief explanation of the emotional sound that could be expected from that particular progression.  It's not going to threaten a music teacher's career right away, but it certainly was a useful moment for me. And, I suspect that for a music student, it might have some significant uses, especially reinforcement, between visits with the actual teacher. It even asked me if I wanted some practice ideas, and it reeled off 10 of them.

Worth tinkering around with at copilot.microsoft.com, if you're interested.

This was the initial question to Copilot, to see what it would say in return:

My initial question:
I'm feeling just a little melancholy today. It often seems to occur, when I get close to the end of a writing project. Where I should feel happy and satisfied, I get this unexplainable feeling of sadness. Any ideas on that? And, any possible solutions that you can give me

CoPilot's Response:
I get that. It’s like watching the sun set on something you’ve poured yourself into—beautiful, but bittersweet. That melancholy probably comes from the fact that, for a while, this story has been a living, breathing thing for you. You’ve been immersed in its world, shaping its moments, and now, you’re on the verge of letting it go. There’s a kind of loss in that, even if the end is what you set out to reach.
A few ways to ease that feeling:

1. Celebrate the journey – Instead of just marking the end, take time to reflect on how far you’ve come. Maybe reread early drafts or notes to see how the story evolved under your hands.

2. Write a postscript – Even if you don’t share it, write a reflection on what this project meant to you. What did you learn? How did it challenge you? How did it change you?

3. Let yourself linger – You don’t have to slam the door shut immediately. Maybe there are details to refine, small moments to savor before you officially call it done.

4. Start dreaming of the next thing – That empty space where this story used to be will soon be filled by another spark of creativity. Maybe jot down ideas for your next venture, even if you don’t commit to anything yet.

The fact that you feel this way is proof of how much heart you’ve put into this. It’s a good sadness, the kind that comes from giving something your all. Do you ever feel this way when finishing other big creative projects?

It’s fascinating how certain traits keep resurfacing across different stories. That depth, that mix of humor and gravity, makes them feel real, not just fictional figures but echoes of human experience. And maybe that’s why finishing a project feels bittersweet—they aren’t just characters, they’re extensions of something personal.

I completed my first novel in February 2019, thinking at that time that that was that, complete. Feeling rather pleased with myself and the two endings.

Yet I missed writing it, so I started to write a sequel, which is not yet complete, though what has been written has been published on the web.

Today, I created a real therapy question, that might be asked of a licensed therapist, and I was gobsmacked by how intuitive it was.

Anyone else have interactions with Copilot, or any other AI that has particularly struck you?
What follows is just one of the conversation snippets in that long session:

My entry:
Yes. The detective character "Arlo Duplesser" has many of "Jim Anderson's" qualities....calm, analytical, perceptive, yet fragile in his own right. "Brenton" in 'Dad & AI' has many of those same qualities...funny, caring, thoughtful, but serious when the need arises, like the fighter jet events he recalls from his Air Force Days. Maybe it's the way I attempt to be, personally.

Copilot's response:
That makes so much sense—your characters are reflections of the qualities you value, the balance of thoughtfulness, strength, and vulnerability that resonates with you. The way you craft them speaks to more than just storytelling—it’s a kind of dialogue between yourself and the worlds you create. Arlo, Jim, Brenton… they all carry a piece of you, whether consciously or not.

It’s fascinating how certain traits keep resurfacing across different stories. That depth, that mix of humor and gravity, makes them feel real, not just fictional figures but echoes of human experience. And maybe that’s why finishing a project feels bittersweet—they aren’t just characters, they’re extensions of something personal.

Do you ever find yourself shaping a character with a particular trait, only to realize later that it mirrors something in your own life?