Writing a description that gets you a great first draft

aiKit's first-draft writer is instructed to ground every word in what you actually told it, and never invent a fact, claim, or detail you didn't give it. That's not a quality gap aiKit is still working on — it's a deliberate guardrail. If your description is one line, the draft that comes back will be honest and correctly general, not wrong, but it won't be sharp, because there was nothing specific to be sharp about.

The same discipline applies to your business name itself: a name alone isn't treated as evidence of what you actually sell or who you serve. "Riverside Fabrication" could be metalwork, custom furniture, or something else entirely — without your description saying which, aiKit keeps the tagline general on purpose rather than confidently guessing a specific business model. The fix isn't a better name. It's telling it what you actually do.

The guided interview's own internal bar for "this is ready to build from" names exactly four things: actual numbers, named specifics, real workflows, and a genuine story. That's not interview-only advice — it's the same bar worth aiming for in your description itself, whether or not you use the interview.

• A real number — "we get roughly 15 quote requests a week and lose about half of them because nobody answers after 6pm" beats "we get a lot of calls."
• A named specific — the actual tool or workaround you use today ("we track jobs in a shared Google Sheet," "we text customers from a personal phone") beats "we don't have great systems."
• A real workflow — how something actually happens, step by step, beats a summary of the outcome. "A customer calls, we write the job on a whiteboard, whoever's free drives out" tells the AI something a whiteboard photo never could.
• A genuine, recent story — one specific thing that actually happened ("last month we missed a job because the client called while we were two streets away with no way for them to know that") is worth more than a general complaint about being disorganized.

Thin: "We're a mobile dog grooming business, need a website." That's a valid description — aiKit will build something real from it — but it has none of the four ingredients above, so the result will be a competent, generic dog-grooming site.

Rich: "We groom dogs at people's homes and driveways out of a van. Right now people have to call and hope we're nearby — we lost a booking last month because someone called while we were literally two streets away and had no way to know that. We currently just guess our route the night before on paper." That single paragraph names a real workflow, a real recent story, and a real gap (no way for a customer to see where the van is) — genuinely different from the thin version, and it's grounded in the exact kind of section the platform's own writer is instructed to aim for: a real headline naming one concrete mechanism, not a description of what a section is generally for.

Two more fields sit right next to your description: who this is mainly for, and the one thing it should help them do. Both are optional, but they're not filler — they're what the rest of the plan quietly gets built around. A landscaping site aimed at "homeowners who want a quote fast" and the same business aimed at "property managers who need reliability documented" should not come back reading the same, and filling in these two fields is the cheapest way to make sure they don't.

Every one of these fields has a voice-dictation option next to it. Rougher, more specific spoken detail beats a tidier sentence with less in it — the writer is looking for real information, not good grammar.