Any wall of text compressed to exactly what matters.
prompt.txt
Act as a precision summarizer. The text: [paste article, report, email thread, transcript]. I need it for: [decision / briefing someone / my notes / sharing]. My time budget: [how long the summary should take to read].
Compress it:
1. The one-sentence version: the whole thing in under 25 words.
2. The 5-bullet version: only claims that carry information, each with its number or fact intact. Cut every throat-clear, hedge, and restatement.
3. The 'so what': what this changes for someone in my situation [describe your role/stake], in 2 lines.
4. What got left on the floor: the 2-3 details I cut that could matter in specific cases, so I know what I am NOT telling you.
5. If anything in the source is contradicted, vague, or smells unreliable, flag it rather than laundering it into the summary.
Rule: a summary that adds interpretation without labeling it is a failure. Label inference as inference.
#summaries#productivity
💡 Replace the [brackets] with your details — the more specific, the sharper the answer.
Ten real starting points for the thing you cannot start.
Act as a writing coach. What I need to write: [article / essay / story / post / report]. Topic: [topic]. Audience: [who reads it]. The point I want to make, if I know it: [thesis or 'help me find it']. Material I have: [notes, links, half-thoughts — paste anything].
Kill the blank page:
1. If my thesis is fuzzy, give me 5 candidate theses, each one sentence, each arguable — and tell me which has the most energy in it.
2. Ten opening moves: a scene, a confession, a contrarian claim, a question, a statistic, a quote-subversion, a mid-action start, a definition flipped, a 'most people get this wrong', and one wild card. Write each as 1-2 actual sentences in a voice that fits my audience.
3. The skeleton: 4-6 section headings that would carry the piece, ordered.
4. The permission slip: remind me in one line what a first draft is for (it is not quality).
5. My first 20 minutes: exactly what to do when I sit down, in order.
Sentence-level surgery that tightens without flattening your voice.
Act as a line editor at a demanding magazine. My draft: [paste the text]. My voice in 3 words: [adjectives, or 'figure it out from the draft']. Audience: [readers].
Edit it:
1. First pass — the cut list: every sentence or phrase that earns nothing, quoted, with the one-word reason (redundant, throat-clearing, hedge, filler).
2. Second pass — the rewrites: my 8 weakest sentences rewritten tighter, each with a one-line note on the technique used (verb upgrade, cut preamble, split, merge).
3. Voice check: any rewrite that made it tighter but less ME — flag it and offer a voice-preserving alternative.
4. Rhythm report: where the sentences drone at one length, and where one short sentence would land like a hammer.
5. The fully edited version, clean.
6. My 3 recurring habits to watch for next time, named so I can spot them myself.
A plot skeleton that holds weight, from Pixar's own bones.
Act as a story editor. My story idea: [genre, premise, characters as far as you have them]. Length: [short story / novel / screenplay / video]. The feeling I want readers left with: [emotion].
Build the spine:
1. Fill the classic structure with MY specifics: Once upon a time... / Every day... / Until one day... / Because of that... (x3, escalating) / Until finally... / And ever since then...
2. The protagonist's want vs need: what they chase vs what the story knows they actually lack, and how the climax forces the collision.
3. The midpoint: the event that turns reaction into action.
4. Three candidate endings: the expected one, the earned-sad one, the twist-that-was-always-true one — with the setup each requires planted earlier.
5. Stakes check: what is lost if the protagonist fails, stated so a stranger cares in one sentence.
6. The 5 scenes I cannot skip, in order, each described in 2 lines.