How a 60-Minute AI Draft Outperformed My Best Sales Copy

A couple weeks ago I did something that would've pissed off younger me.

I let AI write a sales page.

Not a headline. Not a few bullets. The whole damn thing.

Last week I showed you how to build a Story File. That raw 45-minute brain dump that teaches AI to sound like you instead of a robot. (If you missed it, it's here.)

Here's what happened when I turned that loose on something that actually counts...

I pulled out my iPhone.

Started talking to my AI Specialist.

While sitting on the toilet. (Yeah, really.)

I gave it the offer. Who it was for. What I was promising. Which stories to pull from.

Then I told it:

"Draft a long-form sales letter in my voice. Use my rhythm. Respect my guardrails. Don't promise anything I wouldn't say to someone's face."

Within 15 minutes, I had a rough draft.

Spent another 45 minutes verbally smacking it around. Made it less cavalier. Swapped in a couple stories that felt more me. Cut the spots where it was overpromising.

(AI has this annoying habit of overhyping. Had to slap that out of it.)

60 minutes total.

Zero typing.

Just me talking to AI while going about my day.

Then I sent it to my list.

Here's the part that made me uncomfortable…

It performed really well.

Not "this is fine for a robot" well.

"On par with copy I used to spend days, even weeks writing" well.

My first reaction was to be annoyed.

My second reaction was more useful.

The AI didn't insult my pride.

It worked because of two things I'd already done:

The Story File work that taught it my voice.

And years of trust I'd built with my audience.

Take away the voice work, it sounds like everyone else's AI slop.

Take away the trust, nobody's buying from a stranger.

That's what I want to talk about today…

Because if you get this wrong, no brand kit, no clever positioning, and no AI stack is going to save you.

Here's how I think about it now…

Every interaction with your audience does one of two things.

Makes them more likely to trust you.

Or less likely.

That's it.

No neutral. No "no effect."

Burn their attention and give them nothing = Withdrawal.

Confuse them = Withdrawal.

Bore them = Withdrawal.

Every email. Every post. Every offer. Every time you show up. Or don't.

Your "brand" is just the running balance.

That's it.

Over 24+ years, I've had seasons where that balance was high.

I've also had seasons where I was quietly overdrawing.

Like keeping a high-ticket program open a year longer than I believed in it.

Because the cash flow looked too good to walk away from.

Or saying “yes” to clients I knew would be headaches.

Because the invoice number started with the "right" digit.

Or signing off on copy that technically wasn't lying... but let people assume results that weren't typical.

(Yeah, that stung to write.)

Money still came in.

That's the dangerous part.

When cash looks fine, it's easy to ignore the fact that every time you email your list, a few more people trust you a little less.

AI doesn't change that equation.

It compounds it.

Healthy trust ledger: AI scales the deposits.

Wrecked trust ledger: AI scales the damage.

When I walked away from a multimillion-dollar company and started rebuilding as a one-person business, I wrote down a few rules.

Not marketing rules.

Rules for me.

What I stand for:

What I stand against:

Those are my guardrails…

They decide which offers I make. Which stories I tell. Which clients I take. Which "opportunities" I ignore.

(Turns out most opportunities are just distractions with better PR.)

When I built my AI projects, I fed these rules in just like I fed my story.

That's why I told that sales-page project:

"Don't promise anything I wouldn't say to someone's face."

Because I've seen the other side.

I've written copy that moved a lot of money and left a bad taste in my mouth.

You can only do that for so long before your nervous system, your calendar, or your reputation taps out.

I'm done with that shit.

Here's something I wish someone had asked me years ago:

"If your list could see the spreadsheets behind your business, would they still trust you?"

If they saw how many things you've launched and dropped the second money slowed down.

How much revenue comes from offers you secretly stopped believing in.

Whether your "success stories" are cherry-picked outliers or actual patterns.

They'd either say, "I'm glad I'm here."

Or they'd say, "Ah... that explains why their content feels off."

Look.

Most people don't have a content problem.

They have a trust problem they're trying to content their way out of.

Spoiler: it doesn't f#cking work.

The reason their AI-written stuff feels hollow is it's standing on a foundation that doesn't exist.

You can't fix a broken ledger with a nicer logo.

You know Patagonia? The outdoorsy gear company?

They once ran an ad that basically said: "Don't buy this jacket."

They tell people to repair, reuse, buy less.

Fastest way to pump quarterly revenue?

No.

Consistent with the story and stance they've run for decades?

Yes.

Trust is their asset. The jacket's just what they sell.

(And somehow they sell a shitload of jackets anyway.)

Now, you and I aren't Patagonia.

(Unless you are Patagonia, in which case, I'm available for sponsorships.)

But the principle scales down just fine.

Sell out once for a quick win, and your brand pays the tab forever.

Ask me how I know.

Let's get concrete.

Pull up most people's last 10 pieces of content.

Here's what you'll find.

A couple thoughtful posts that actually help.

A pile of "just posting to stay consistent" filler.

(You know the type. Posted because you "should" be visible, not because you had something to say.)

And at least one thing that quietly chips away at trust.

That filler content?

You just trained your audience that your name in their inbox is a signal to ignore you.

Withdrawal.

Think about it…

How many newsletters are you subscribed to right now that you don't even open anymore?

If you're anything like me, it's dozens. Maybe hundreds.

At some point, they stopped delivering. You gave them a few chances. Then you stopped noticing them entirely.

That's what you're risking every time you post something that doesn't actually help.

Same with:

Every piece trains a reaction...

Lean in, or tune out.

Now drop AI on top of that.

Instead of one trust-damaging post a month, you can crank out 30.

Congrats. You just automated your reputation into the ground.

AI multiplies whatever you're already doing.

Clean operating system?

Great news.

Broken operating system?

You just put your bullsh!t on a schedule.

Here's a simple exercise.

It'll sting a little.

(Worth it.)

Open whatever platform you publish on most. Emails, social posts, whatever.

Pull your last 10 pieces.

For each one, ask one question:

"If my best client read this, would it make them more likely to trust me... or less?"

Two buckets. That's it.

T+ = deepens trust

T- = chips away at trust

Be honest with yourself.

Sounds clever but doesn't actually help anyone? T-.

Wastes their time? T-.

Posted because you "should" post something? T-.

(Most people's feeds are 60% T-. Just saying.)

Now look at your T- pile.

Two options.

Delete it.

Or rewrite it so it's grounded, honest, and actually useful.

If you do nothing else from this email but kill a couple T- pieces, your brand just got healthier.

That's not a small thing.

You can run that exercise manually.

Or you can make AI take the first pass.

Drop this prompt into Claude or ChatGPT:

Run it once.

You don't have to agree with everything it says.

(AI gets things wrong. Shocking, I know.)

But it'll surface patterns you've stopped seeing.

Keep it simple.

This week, do one thing.

Run the audit… Manual or AI. Doesn't matter.

Pick one T- that makes your gut twist a little.

Then either delete it or rewrite it until you'd be comfortable showing it to your smartest client over coffee.

That's it. One piece.

Optional power move:

Tell your audience what you changed and why.

Something like: "I rewrote this because the first version was a little too hypey for my taste. Here's the updated version."

Instant T+.

(And your audience will trust you more for admitting it. Weird how that works.)

First email in this series: you built a Story File so your AI could finally sound like you instead of a LinkedIn vomit-bot.

This one: you started cleaning up the trust ledger that story sits on.

Next one: I'll show you how I wired story, stance, guardrails, and trust into an AI-powered system that keeps my voice consistent, your visuals consistent, and lets a one-person business show up like it has a full content team.

Without the team. Or the payroll. Or the drama.

But that's a January conversation.

Taking a break for the holidays. Back in a couple weeks with part three and a fresh version of the Magnetic Brand System that's been cooking for a while.

Enjoy your people. See you in 2026.

Until next time,

—Tim Erway

P.S. This is the uncomfortable sh!t. The trust you've been quietly withdrawing without realizing it. Most people never look at this. Do it. It matters more than you think.

P.P.S. Next time: how I wired story, stance, and guardrails into an AI system that protects my brand instead of diluting it. The full operating system for a one-person business that doesn't sacrifice reputation for scale. We're getting into the actual build now... stick around.