I don’t need more ideas, I need less ritual.
A few months ago I realized something uncomfortable:
I don’t have a “no ideas” problem.
I have a workflow disease.
Most days looked like this:
On paper, that’s “being productive”.
In reality, my focus was getting shredded into tiny pieces.
At some point I stopped and asked myself:
“Why does every tiny rewrite require a full ritual with new tabs, new UIs, new distractions?”
That question is basically the origin story of what I’m building now: Rephrazo.
If you zoom in on a single loop — copy → switch tab → paste → wait → paste back — it doesn’t look like a big deal.
But every time you do it, you:
One loop is fine.
Ten loops are annoying.
Fifty loops and the whole writing session feels like “managing tools around your text” instead of actually working on the text.
When I talked to other people (copywriters, founders, creators), they kept saying some version of:
“I know what I want to say. I just waste too much mental energy polishing it.”
That’s a very different problem from “please write this for me from scratch”.
I tried a bunch of things, including my own early prototypes:
All of them had the same flaw:
they wanted me to move into their world, instead of quietly fitting into mine.
At some point I wrote down a brutally simple requirement:
I don’t want “a new place to write”.
I want one very small action that just rewrites a sentence where it already lives.
No new window.
No prompt box.
No configuration panel.
Just: “this line feels off → fix it → keep going.”
So I stopped thinking in terms of “product” and started thinking in terms of gesture.
What gesture do I actually want as a writer?
That’s it. That gesture is the product.
Everything else is infrastructure and error handling.
This is what Rephrazo does right now:
No tab switch, no chat thread, no “what should I ask the AI this time?”.
I assumed the most common request would be:
“Make this more persuasive / more punchy / more high-converting.”
That definitely shows up, but the strongest pattern is different.
What people actually care about:
So the internal “spec” for the rewrite changed from:
That tiny shift changes how people emotionally relate to the tool.
It’s not a replacement; it’s a helper that’s only allowed to sand the surface, not rebuild the object.
Of course, my first version of Rephrazo was over-engineered:
It felt “pro” to me.
Most users… ignored it.
What they did use:
The more options I removed, the more often they pressed the hotkey.
It’s a bit painful to admit, but it’s true:
“flexibility” is often for the builder’s ego.
Users want one trustworthy move that works 80% of the time.
Based on real usage and conversations, it seems to be most useful for:
It’s not great for:
So I stopped pitching it to myself as “AI for writing” and started framing it more honestly:
“It’s a small, cheap way to rewrite sentences
once you already know what you want to say.”
Nothing more, nothing less.
Right now I have more questions than answers:
If you’ve built small, focused tools or AI helpers before, I’d love to hear what actually told you:
“Okay, this is no longer a gimmick — people are folding it into their real work.”