The most common complaint I hear about AI tools is some version of “it just gives me generic fluff.” It is a fair complaint. It is also, nearly always, fixable in one round — because the output is generic for a specific and diagnosable reason.

Here is what is missing, in the order it usually goes wrong.

1. Context — what it needs to know

Compare “write a follow-up email to a client” with “write a follow-up to a client who asked for a discount I can’t give, who has been with us three years, and who I don’t want to lose.”

The first has no situation in it, so you get the average of every follow-up email ever written. That average is exactly the fluff you are complaining about. Context does not have to be long — two sentences of real specifics beats a page of background.

2. Task — what you actually want

“Help me with my newsletter” is not a task. “Turn these three bullet points into a 200-word opening paragraph” is a task.

Vague asks force the model to guess what you want, and its guess is the safest, blandest interpretation. When you find yourself disappointed, check whether you actually stated the deliverable.

3. Format — how you want it back

This one is free and almost nobody uses it. You can ask for a table. A checklist. Five options ranked by cost. An outline with speaker notes. Three sentences, not three paragraphs.

Left unspecified, you get prose — usually more prose than you wanted, in a structure you now have to reorganize. Specifying format eliminates most of your editing.

4. Constraints — the guardrails

What should it avoid? What must it include? Who is the audience? “Explain this for someone who has never used a spreadsheet” and “explain this for our CFO” are different documents. “Don’t use marketing language” is a constraint that improves almost any draft.

Watch it work

Before: “Write a post about our new class.”

After: “We’re launching a 3-hour beginner AI class for people who’ve never used ChatGPT — a lot of them are nervous about it. Write a short social post, under 80 words, that speaks to the nervousness rather than hyping the technology. Warm and plain, no exclamation marks, no phrases like ‘unlock the power of AI.’ Give me three options with different opening lines.”

Same tool, thirty extra seconds of typing, completely different result. Everything added there was just context, task, format, and constraints.

The habit that makes this stick

When you get a prompt that works, save it. Most of what you do repeats weekly, so most of your prompting should be reuse, not invention. Ten saved prompts covering the things you actually do beats a hundred clever ones you found online and never opened again.

You are not bad at AI. You are being polite and brief with something that needs specifics.

And when a first attempt lands badly, do not rewrite from scratch — say what is wrong with it. “Too formal, and cut the second paragraph” gets you there faster than starting over.