Sooner or later someone asks the question. A contest judge, a grant reviewer, an editor reading your submission: “Did a person actually write this?” You want something in hand when they do. Slima’s Authorship Record is that something — a printable report, built from your version history, that you can hand over. This piece walks you through producing it, signing it, and turning it into a document you can put in an envelope.
First, where the evidence comes from
The Authorship Record isn’t conjured out of thin air. It reads your book’s version history.
As you write, Slima saves snapshots for you automatically, and you can save your own at the moments that matter. Every version stays on file, and every one can be restored. That trail, from your first word to your finished draft, is the raw material the report is built from.
Which leads to one condition worth being clear about. A book with no version history can’t produce an Authorship Record. If you intend to use this to vouch for a particular work, the smart move is to write it inside Slima from the start. The more complete the process you leave behind, the more weight the report carries. There’s more on how to thicken that record at the end.
Step 1: Find the entry point
Where you open it depends on which studio you’re in.
- Writing Studio: open the export menu, and you’ll find “Authorship Record” inside it.
- Script Studio: head to the Deliver tab — the entry point lives there.
Click it, and Slima reads through your book’s full version history and generates the report on the spot. No queue. No waiting for a notification. You click, you see it.
Step 2: Read what the report is telling you
This isn’t a wall of numbers you have to decode. It breaks down how the book actually grew, and each section answers a question a reviewer is quietly asking.
- A summary up top: Versions, Manual snapshots, Days of work, Final manuscript words, and AI interactions. At a glance you can see how long the book spanned and how many versions piled up along the way.
- Word count growth: how the count climbed over time. Real writing has a jagged shape — sprints, stalls, whole passages cut and rewritten. That crooked line is hard to fake.
- Creation timeline: one version after another, marked by whether you saved the Snapshot by hand or the system kept it automatically.
- AI usage: how many times you worked with the AI, and which features you used, listed honestly. Never touched it? This section simply shows no record.
Step 3: Sign your name (optional, but worth doing)
The data tells half the story. The other half is yours to tell.
Before you generate the report, you can write an Authorship statement and add your Author signature. What the statement says is up to you. A common version reads something like: “I wrote this work myself; the AI served only as an assisting tool.” Both the statement and the signature get embedded in the finished report, and they go into the document only — never to Slima’s servers.
Why bother signing? Because a signed statement turns a pile of objective numbers into a promise a named person is willing to stand behind. For whoever’s on the receiving end, that gap matters more than it sounds.
Step 4: Save it as a PDF and send it out
The report is a formatted, printable web page.
Turning it into a file is easy. With the report open, use your browser’s Print -> Save as PDF, and you’ve got a PDF. From there it behaves like any other document: attach it to an email, upload it with a submission form, whatever you need.
Honestly: what it proves, and what it doesn’t
Don’t treat this report as a get-out-of-jail card. Overclaim and you’ll only hurt yourself.
An authorship history is strong evidence, not airtight proof. It can show that a book took shape over a real stretch of time, through a real sequence of revisions. What it can’t do is prove your intent, and the timestamps are stamped by Slima’s servers rather than a third-party notary. The report draws those lines itself; it won’t inflate the case for you.
Think of it as a solid exhibit in court rather than a closing argument. Its value is simple: when someone asks, you can produce a credible, checkable account that’s genuinely hard to invent after the fact. For more on why any of this matters, read When “Did a Human Write This?” Becomes a Real Question.
Three habits that make the record count
Take the same book and two writers, and one walks away with a thin report and the other with a thick one. The difference usually comes down to a few things.
- Save manual snapshots at the moments that matter: finished a chapter, made a big revision — pause and save a manual Snapshot, with a line describing it. Manual snapshots read clearly on the timeline. They’re proof you were consciously moving the work forward.
- Write inside Slima as much as you can: paste a finished manuscript in all at once and the timeline shows a single version, which proves almost nothing. For the process to leave a trail, the writing has to actually happen here.
- Start early: the longer the timeline and the more days it spans, the more convincing it is. If you suspect a work will need vouching for down the road, write with version history on from day one.
As proving “a human wrote this” becomes something people increasingly ask for, the most grounded thing you can do is start now — and keep an honest record of how you write.