Writing with the coach

Opening a piece puts you in the writing room: no nav, no sidebar, just you, the coach, and the page.

How it opens

A blank piece opens on the empty sheet, with one offer above the composer: not sure what to say yet, talk it through. Take it and the coach says hello with a few starters underneath; ignore it and type what you came to say. When you already have the line, I’m ready to write turns the page into the sheet.

An idea you open from the board works the same way, and the thought you captured goes into the conversation rather than onto the sheet. The page in front of you starts empty on purpose: what you jotted down at a traffic light is material, not a first draft.

What the coach does

• Asks one question at a time: and only when the question is earned. If what you wrote is already a post, it says so and points at your hook instead of fishing for more.
• Pins your strong lines: your own words, underlined where you said them. You can also select something the coach said and keep that; it travels to the sheet labelled as a line you kept, so you always know whose words are whose.
• Spars before it structures: while you are still circling the thing, it reflects it back, offers the angle you have not seen, and will disagree with you. It does not hand you a shape in the middle of that.

The shape is an offer, not a verdict

The coach reaches for the arc only once it can say your point back in one sentence and you have agreed that is the point. Then it arrives as a few beats with a question under it: does this sound right, or is something missing. That’s it, let’s write takes you to the sheet. Something’s missing stays in the conversation and asks what still feels thin. Ask for the shape yourself at any moment and you get it, no check first.

The arc then leads the side panel, with the lines you kept sitting inside the beat they belong to, and on the sheet it shrinks to one strip you can unfold. Having no arc is a normal state with a way into one, not a thing you are missing.

Beside the arc is the review, for when the piece is close enough to be read back to you.

Your hook

The first line decides whether anybody reads the second, so the sheet has a Hook tab between the arc and the review. Pick an angle, read the one sentence on how it works and an example from somebody else’s work, and write your hook yourself: once, or up to three different ways. Pick the best one asks the coach which try follows the pattern best and says why in a line. It never writes the hook for you.

When a line already in your draft could open the post, it shows as a potential hook you can choose. Tap the circle next to any hook and it goes straight to the top of your draft. Your old first line stays underneath, marked, with Remove it or Keep it right there in the text. Tap the circle again and everything goes back as it was. On a phone the hook sits in its own row under the arc.

The angles on offer follow what the post is for: reaching new people, building trust, showing what you know, or getting people to act. The coach suggests that goal on a chip beside the topic once the conversation makes it clear, and you can change it or leave it empty. Your goal and your tries are saved with the piece.

Leaving is safe

Save for later is always one press away, and the piece keeps whatever exists. Reopening it brings the whole conversation back, exactly where you left it. Next to it is Throw it away, for the thought that was not one, which asks once and then means it.

There is also a writing timer, if a deadline helps: pick 15, 25 or 45 minutes, or set your own up to three hours. It counts in the footer so a phone can see it, survives a reload, and chimes twice when the time is up. Nothing happens to your draft either way, it is a clock and not a rule.