Every week, I meet people desperate to make money from their ideas.
But they are paralysed by the same question:
What on earth should I sell?
They’re not short on talent. Or heart. They’re short on direction. I’ve seen it in my workshops, my inbox, my coaching calls. Smart, creative humans trying to turn what they know into something others will pay for.
So let me pull back the curtain on the system I use to build every offer that’s ever paid my bills. From a $6.5k cohort to six digital products bringing in over $40k last year.
This isn’t theory.
It’s the 6-step repeatable process that built my business. And the one I’m using right now for a new idea that could flop… or fund a whole new chapter.
Let’s walk through it.
1. The money’s hidden in the mess you’ve already fixed
Every idea that’s ever made me money started as a personal fix.
Six months ago, I fell headfirst into the ChatGPT rabbit hole. Not the “write me a blog post” garbage. The deep, nerdy, how-do-I-make-this-thing-sound-like-me kind. I wasn’t building a product. I was unclogging my own writing bottleneck.
At first, I asked ChatGPT to improve my headlines. It spat out sterile, cookie-cutter nonsense that could’ve been written by a robot in a beige suit. So I got to work.
I built my own headline prompt. One that spat out human, compelling, alive ideas. Then I tackled outlines. Then intros. Each time, the same story: garbage in, garbage out. Until I trained it with more context, more direction, more me.
Bit by bit, my prompts turned from clunky experiments into creative weapons. They gave me ideas. They made my writing sharper, more strategic, more fun. Within weeks, I was writing twice as much in half the time. My subscriber count grew. My income followed. And for the first time in months, writing felt light again.
But the real magic started when I shared it.
2. Talk about what’s working — and watch who leans closer
Once you’ve fixed something for yourself, talk about it.
That’s what I did. I shared a few of my prompts with paid subscribers. Dropped some into workshops. Every time — people wanted more. That’s how I knew I’d hit a vein.
Solve your problem first. Then notice who else says, “Wait… that’s my problem too.” Because if it helps you, it’ll help them. The response was instant. Writers leaned in. Questions poured in. So I ran a live masterclass revealing my process.
One hour. $1,000 revenue.
Validation served hot. Your move: share the fix. Watch who perks up. That’s real-world feedback. The only kind that matters.
But as more people started using the prompts, I noticed something I didn’t expect.
3. Your audience will tell you what to build next (if you’re listening)
I was on a call with a client when she shared her screen.
We looked at her writing. Then I asked about my AI prompts. She scrolled, frowned, clicked a few things. And within seconds, I realised the truth. She wasn’t doing it wrong. She just wasn’t doing it at all.
Not because she didn’t care. Because she was overwhelmed. The process looked complicated. She half-understood it, but life was full and time was thin. That’s when it hit me: there was still a problem to solve.
People loved the idea. They hated the implementation. And I didn’t want to be the guy selling something that didn’t actually help. I didn’t know it yet, but the solution was about to find me.
In the middle of a business conference.
4. People don’t want homework — they want the shortcut
At a conference last weekend, I got chatting with an accountant.
He told me he struggled to explain his firm’s value. I showed him how prompts could fix that. How a few smart inputs could make his message clear, confident, human. Then a friend leaned over and said,
“He hasn’t got time to learn all that. Build it for him.”
Boom. Lightbulb moment.
That’s how my AI Writing Agent was born. A ready-to-use system that writes in your voice, using my frameworks. It’s plug and play. Simple. But potent. Because here’s the truth: People don’t want more information.
They want transformation without the homework.
5. Stop overthinking. Start selling.
Perfection is just procrastination wearing a lab coat.
I didn’t build a platform. I didn’t design a logo. I didn’t even name the thing. I just wrote one short email to my most loyal customers:
“Thinking of creating a personalised AI Thinking Partner for your writing. Interested? Hit reply.”
Within hours, replies landed. Then payments. The idea was validated before it even existed. (DM me if you want it).
Because one paying customer teaches you more than six months of guesswork.
6. Once it works, milk it
Now comes the fun part — polishing and multiplying.
If this offer keeps selling, I’ll streamline it. Create a simpler, lower-priced version. Fewer bells. More buyers. That’s the rhythm of every product I’ve built:
Build → Test → Refine → Scale.
Every offer I’ve ever sold started as a personal pain point.
Solve it once — and you can get paid for it again and again.
The whole game in one line:
You fix your pain → you share it → you realise it’s universal → you turn it into value.
That’s not luck. That’s leverage. Forget chasing trends or gaps in the market. Start from obsession, not opportunity. Because the thing you’ve already solved for yourself? That’s not just experience. It’s your niche.
Now go fix something that’s bugging you — and watch who leans in.
Derek
A good exercise when you aren't sure about your skill stack is to ask friends and co-workers "What problems do I solve better than anyone else you know?"
When people say the same thing, you know where to start
Awesome article
The build in public movement is expanding. And you're like a general on the front lines.