Early on, I wrote for "entrepreneurs and small business owners."

Nobody cared. The content was generic, the advice was vague, and engagement was nonexistent. I was speaking to everyone, which meant I was speaking to no one.

Then I tried something different. I imagined one specific person—a solo founder I'd talked to during user interviews—and wrote directly to them.

Everything changed.

The Problem with Writing for Everyone

When you write for a broad audience, you water everything down.

You avoid specific examples because they might not apply to everyone. You keep advice general because you don't want to alienate anyone. You use vague language because you're trying to cover all bases.

The result is content that applies to everyone in theory and resonates with no one in practice.

"Entrepreneurs and small business owners" isn't a target audience. It's a category. And you can't write to a category.

The One Person Method

Here's what works instead:

Pick one real person. Give them a name. Give them a problem. Give them context.

Then write every post as if you're explaining something to them over coffee.

Not a demographic. Not a persona. A person.

How to Choose Your One Person

You have options:

A past version of yourself. If you're building something you wish existed, write to who you were before you learned what you now know.

A real user who emailed you. Someone who asked a question, reported a problem, or requested help. You know their exact situation.

Someone from your validation interviews. You talked to them before building. You understand their world.

A friend in your target market. Someone whose problems you genuinely understand.

The more real they are, the better this works.

What Changes When You Write for One

Language becomes specific. Instead of "improve your workflow," you write "stop losing 20 minutes every day searching for that spreadsheet."

Examples become relevant. Instead of hypotheticals, you describe their actual situation.

Advice becomes actionable. Instead of principles, you give steps they can take today.

Connection happens. The reader thinks, "This is exactly me."

The Paradox

Here's the counterintuitive part: writing for one person reaches more people.

Specificity is magnetic. When someone reads something that feels like it was written for them, they pay attention. They share it. They remember it.

Generic content is forgettable. Specific content sticks.

"This might apply to some of you" is weak. "If you're a solo founder who's been avoiding email marketing because it feels spammy, this is for you" is strong.

Practical Application

Before you write anything, ask:

Would [Name] care about this? If your one person wouldn't find this useful, why are you writing it?

Would [Name] understand this? No jargon they wouldn't know. No assumptions about context they don't have.

Would [Name] share this? Is this specific enough to make them say "I know someone who needs to read this"?

My One Person

When I write for KuduTek, I write for a specific person.

They're a solo founder. They're technical enough to build things but not a professional developer. They've shipped something but haven't found their footing with marketing. They're overwhelmed by advice that seems designed for funded startups with teams.

They're probably a lot like you.

Every post is a conversation with them. Not a broadcast—a conversation.

That's why it works.

Related Reading