How to stop writing your ancestor's Wikipedia page
And start writing their story instead. Plus a workshop invite.
Welcome to all our new subscribers! It’s a great time to get started with AI for family history writing and genealogy research. You can read all the past Chronicle Makers posts here.
We finished yesterday. Ten days. Seventeen writers. Sixteen complete chronicles.
The thing everyone’s talking about isn’t what I expected.
It wasn’t the writing process with AI. It wasn’t the peer feedback. It wasn’t even the accountability (though that matters).
It happened on day three, before anyone wrote a single word.
The scoping prompt.
The Problem Every Writer Has (And Nobody Talks About)
Here’s what happens when most people sit down to write a family story:
You open a blank document. You know you want to write about Great-Grandfather Johann. You have facts. You have records. You might even have a rough outline.
And then your brain does this:
“But I should probably include his immigration story... and his military service... oh, and the farm... wait, did I mention his first wife died? I need to explain why he came to Pennsylvania... maybe I should start with his childhood in Germany... actually, his parents are important too...”
Twenty minutes later, you have a 47 items in an outline and absolutely no idea where to start.
This is scope paralysis. And it kills more family history projects than lack of research ever will.
Why You Can’t Just Make an Outline
The traditional advice is to “just outline what you want to say.” Sounds reasonable. Doesn’t work.
Because when you try to figure it out by yourself about what matters in Johann’s story, you can’t separate what you know from what matters. Your brain wants to include everything because it’s all connected. It’s all true. It’s all important.
You can’t see your the story because you are too close to the facts.
Here’s the patterns I see over and over:
Biography overwhelm: You try to write a full life story without boundaries. Birth to death. Every census. Every move. Every child. It’s not a story—it’s a database printed out.
Audience confusion: You’re writing for “everyone,” which makes it bland and unfocused. You end up with something that reads like those AI-generated biographies popping up everywhere now. Nothing that makes this story yours.
Goalless writing: You jump in without knowing what you want to accomplish. So you never know when you’re done. You’re constantly behind, constantly adding “just one more section,” constantly feeling like it’s not enough.
Research escape: “I need more information” becomes a way to avoid the vulnerable work of actually writing. Even with AI’s help, writing is hard. Putting words on a page, making choices, finishing something—that’s where most people bail.
Perfectionism paralysis: You wait for the “right” story instead of starting with any story. You think once you pick a scope, you’re locked in forever.
This is why professional writers have editors. Why researchers have advisors. Why even experienced genealogists freeze when it’s time to write.
You need someone to ask you the right questions. Someone who can hear what you’re saying and reflect back: “Wait—stop—THAT’S the story right there.”
But most of us don’t have that someone. And even if we did, they’d need to understand genealogy, historical context, narrative structure, and your specific research.
That’s where Sprint members discovered something remarkable.
The Lesson That Stunned Everyone
Day Three of the Sprint, I introduced what I call the Chronicle Scoping Interview.
Here’s how it works:
You open Claude. You give it a role: “You are a family history writing coach helping me scope a chronicle about my ancestor.”
You give it some basic context: who you’re writing about, what time period, what you already know.
And then—here’s the part that changes everything—you let Claude interview you based on a set of questions you give it.
You aren’t outlining and asking AI “Is this Ok?” You are using AI to collaborate on creating a story scope with you.
Claude asks you questions. You answer. Claude listens, notices patterns, asks follow-up questions.
“What surprised you most when you found this record?”
“If you could only tell someone one thing about Johann, what would it be?”
“What question have you been trying to answer about his life?”
You answer. Claude reflects back what it heard. You realize things you didn’t know you knew.
And after about 20 minutes of this conversation, Claude says: “Based on everything you’ve told me, here’s what I think the heart of this story is...”
What Actually Happened in the Sprint
I watched seventeen people do this on Day Three, then post to the community:
“Mind-blowing”
“WOW”
“I can’t believe what just happened.”
AI can be transformative when used in the right way.
This is the turning point. From researcher to storyteller. From collecting to completing.
Because when you set a clear scope, everything changes:
You write with purpose instead of wandering aimlessly (or worse, letting AI decide the scope for you)
You stop getting lost in the weeds of endless details
You make something meaningful for a real person (not “everyone,” not “future generations”—a specific reader you can picture)
You create boundaries that help you actually finish
Without scope, you’re not writing. You’re compiling. There’s a difference.
Why the Interview Format Works (When Outlines Don’t)
There’s actual psychology behind this.
When you outline, you’re using your executive function—the part of your brain that plans, organizes, and controls. It’s the same part that writes to-do lists and gets paralyzed by too many options.
When you answer questions in conversation, you’re using your associative network—the part that makes connections, sees patterns, and knows what matters even when you can’t articulate why.
That’s why you can talk about your ancestor for 20 minutes and naturally emphasize certain moments, return to certain themes, light up when you mention certain details. Your brain already knows what the story is. You just can’t see it when you’re staring at a blank document on a screen.
The interview externalizes your thinking. Claude—because it’s not you—can hear what you’re saying and reflect back the pattern.
“You keep coming back to that moment when she opened the trunk...”
“You’ve mentioned three times that he never talked about the war...”
“It sounds like the real question isn’t whether he succeeded, but what he gave up to try...”
You’re not getting new information. You’re getting clear about what you already know.
And once you have that, writing becomes possible.
The Scope Framework
I’m going to give you the basic structure we used. Not the exact prompts—those are in the VIP member library and they’re quite detailed—but the framework that makes this work.
Phase 1: Set up the interview (5 minutes)
Give Claude its role:
“You are a family history writing coach. Your job is to interview me about an ancestor I want to write about, listen carefully to my answers, and help me identify the specific story worth telling—not their whole life, but one focused narrative.”
Give basic context: Name, dates, what you know, why you picked this person.
Then say:
“Please interview me. Ask me questions that will help you understand what the real story is here. After about 10 questions, tell me what you think the heart of this story is.”
Phase 2: Answer honestly (15 minutes)
Claude will ask questions. Answer them like you’re talking to a friend, not writing an essay.
Don’t try to be comprehensive. Don’t worry about getting dates perfect. Just talk.
When Claude asks “What surprised you?” or “What do you keep wondering about?” or “What would you want your grandchildren to know?”—answer from the gut.
The less you filter, the better this works.
Phase 3: Read what Claude sees (5 minutes)
After 8-10 questions, Claude will reflect back what it heard.
Read it carefully. It’s not telling you what to write. It’s showing you what you’ve been circling around.
Sometimes it nails it immediately. Sometimes you’ll read it and think, “Close, but it’s actually more about...”
That’s perfect. That reaction is the story emerging.
Phase 4: Narrow to scope (10 minutes)
Once you and Claude have identified the core story, ask it to help you create a scope.
A scope is not an outline. It’s a boundary. It answers:
What is this story about (and what is it NOT about)?
Where does it start and end?
What’s the emotional or thematic thread?
What’s the reader going to understand by the end?
This is usually 1-2 pages. That’s it.
What This Doesn’t Replace
Here’s what the scoping interview is NOT:
It’s not research. You still need your facts.
It’s not the first draft. You still have to write.
It’s not AI doing everything for you. You still have to make decisions.
What it IS: the focus you need to actually start. And finish.
In the Sprint, after Day Three scoping, we had six days of writing, feedback, and revision. The scoping session made that possible because everyone knew exactly what they were writing.
No scope creep. No “maybe I should add a part about...” No paralyzing indecision.
Sixteen out of seventeen people finished. That’s a 94% completion rate.
The scoping session is why.
What Happens Next
The next Chronicle Writing Sprint starts April 15th. If you want in, VIP membership gets you access to the Sprint plus all four Labs (our fun word for courses), the complete prompt library, and the live coaching that helps you actually use these tools.
And if you do this—if you try the scoping interview this week—I want to hear about it. Reply to this email and tell me:
Who are you writing about?
What did the interview help you see?
What scope emerged?
And once you have that scope—once you know what story you’re telling—next week’s workshop becomes critical.
Because here’s what nobody tells you about finishing your family’s story: you can get in legal trouble when publishing it.
Next Wednesday February 11th, attorney Elissa D. Hecker is walking us through the legal landmines every family history writer needs to know about—defamation, privacy, copyright, consent. The stuff that keeps people from publishing even after they finish writing.
This isn’t fear-mongering. It’s “here’s how to publish confidently without getting blindsided.”
VIP members get in free. Everyone else: Get your ticket
Full details in Friday’s email. But if you’re planning to actually publish what you write (and you should be), you need to be there.
Here’s what I’ve learned after watching 33 writers go through the Chronicle Writing Sprint:
The story was always there. You just couldn’t see it from inside your own head.
Sometimes all you need is someone—or something—asking the right questions.
Happy Chronicling!
—Denyse
P.S. The exact prompts we used in the Sprint are more detailed than what I shared here. VIP members master the new AI skills ability and get the complete prompt library (50+ tested prompts), the 10-Day Sprint four times a year, and the coaching that makes the difference Learn more about VIP membership.
The scoping skill you set up is such a powerful tool. Everyone needs to try it at least once....it changes the game!
Sounds like me.