Too much AI writing sounds clunky and recognizably computer-generated instead of carrying the soul of the person whose name is on it. I spent hundreds of hours teaching it my language, rhythm, edges, and choices. Find Your Voice is the process that finally held.
I can tell when something was written by AI, and I suspect most of us can by now. It’s the em dashes, mostly, and the sentences built on a contrast, this thing and not that thing, over and over. It’s the same rhythm every time, the same shape of paragraph, the same reach for a tidy line at the end.
The writing isn’t bad. It’s competent. It just isn’t mine, and anyone who has read me for a while would know it. That mattered more to me than I expected it to, because my writing is most of how people meet me.
So I spent hundreds of hours trying to fix it. I fed my books into it, my blog posts, everything I’d written. I edited its drafts line by line and handed the edits back. We set rules together and I asked it to follow its own rules. It didn’t work.
What finally worked was evidence. My sent emails, my quick replies, the note I wrote when I had to tell someone no. Those carry my voice whether I meant them to or not, and that is what this reads. It still isn’t perfect. It’s close enough that I’m confident sending what comes out of it, and I want to share it.
I hope this email finds you well. I wanted to circle back regarding our conversation last week. I would love to leverage the momentum we built and explore next steps at your earliest convenience.
Been thinking about what you said last week. You were right that it is not a systems problem. When do you want to talk about it? I have Thursday open.
Same request. One of them sounds like a person.
Seven phases, run by Claude, in one sitting. You answer and paste. It measures, drafts, and tests itself against you.
Fifteen to thirty real pieces. Texts and quick replies matter more than polished work, because voice shows clearest where you were not performing.
Thirty-three of them, one at a time. Rhythm. Formality. Humor. The words you would never use. Most take five seconds.
A standing list of the phrases that give AI away, trimmed down to the ones that are not already yours.
Every rule carries its proof: a real line you wrote, or a real number from your own writing. Nothing goes in that cannot be traced.
Two drafts, one generic and one in your voice, shown to you unlabeled. Then you mark up the one you picked, and those marks become rules.
Save it once. From your next session forward, Claude writes as you.
A share card with your name, your face, and a picture of your actual sentence rhythm. Yours to post or not.
It’s free. Tell me where to send it and the whole thing lands in your inbox, along with the page where you can copy it straight into Claude.
You’ll need the Claude desktop app and about an hour. Have some of your own writing nearby before you begin, sent emails and quick replies more than polished work.
I will send the prompt and a short series introducing the other tools. My occasional writing and text reminders remain separate choices.
You already asked me to send the recommendation and help you use it. I will not ask for the same permission again.
Open the promptThis does not add you to my occasional writing or to text reminders. Those choices remain separate.
See all your tools
The profile is yours and it works without me. It can help a draft sound like you and carry your ideas farther. You still decide what is worth saying and whether the work belongs to the life you want to build.