← Back to On the house

On the house

You're an island. This just brings it out.

Your voice is already yours. The trick was never adding one. It was stopping the machine from sanding it off.

How many people on earth sound exactly like you?

Same words, same jokes, same way of getting to the point or wandering around it. Even if you're a Swiftie and you've got a lot of company. What, 2? 3?

Now count the tens of thousands of people running the same AI off the same template packs. Templates built, on purpose, to make everything sound the same. Same openers. Same "I hope this finds you well." Same three bullet points with a bolded word at the front of each.

You're an island. Every one of us is. The problem was never that you don't have a voice. It's that the moment you hand your idea to a machine, the machine starts sanding it.

Nothing adds a voice to you

I want to be careful here, because there's a version of this that sounds like a pitch and I don't want to give you that one.

Not my software, not anyone's, not a course, not a coach. If someone tells you they'll give you a voice, walk. You had one before you could spell. It's the one your friends recognise in the second sentence of a text. It's the reason your mum can tell which kid wrote the birthday card.

So the job, the only job, is stopping the sanding.

Here's how the sanding works, in plain English. You write, or say, something that's very you. Rough, maybe. Then you ask an AI to "clean it up." And it does, in the sense that it replaces every word that was specifically yours with the word that's most common. Your "yeah, no, that's a hard pass" becomes "unfortunately, I'll have to decline." Technically better. Nobody would ever guess it was you. The rough bits were the fingerprints.

Now flip it. Give the machine one instruction up front, before it starts. Something like: "This is how I talk. Keep it. Fix spelling, fix the one sentence that runs on, leave everything else." Then paste your rough thing in and get out fast.

What you get back isn't a new voice. It's yours, with the dents left in. In my opinion that's the only thing worth paying for in this whole category, and it's also the one thing you can do for free with a decent instruction and a bit of discipline.

Why it matters, and neither reason is about marketing

One, people buy you before they buy whatever you're selling. Always have. That's close to forty years of face-to-face selling talking, not a theory. The listing with a little of you in it gets the call. The email with a little of you in it gets answered.

Two, it feels better. I didn't expect that one. When my own drafts started coming back sounding like me on a good day, something in the back of my head went quiet. The imposter part. I'm 56 and it still surprises me that reading my own words, done well, does that.

What would it look like if the next thing you sent sounded like you? Not the polished you. The actual one, the one people already like.

You already own the winning piece. You've owned it the whole time.

You're an island. Everything I build, and everything on this blog, just brings that out.

Want to see the sanding stop on something real? The free tool at the top of the blog does exactly that to an angry email. Try it on yours.

Want the next one?

Mark's opinions on AI, the odd funny thing, and nothing else. Completely optional. Leave whenever.

Out any time. Or write to [email protected].

← Back to On the house