Tastemaker turns the taste you can't define into a style you can use.
Start collectingYou've been underlining sentences in books for years. Screenshotting tweets that nail something you can't quite articulate. Bookmarking essays you wish you'd written.
You know what you like. You just can't say why.
Which means when you sit down to write—or ask an AI to help you write—you're starting from scratch every time. All that accumulated taste, locked in your gut instead of on the page.
Paste a passage. Photograph a book page. Screenshot a tweet. Every time you encounter writing that makes you feel something, drop it in Tastemaker.
Is it the style? The structure? The tone? Pick what drew you in. Or write your own—“this one metaphor,” “the way she ends paragraphs.”
Ask Tastemaker what patterns emerge across your collection. It reads everything you've saved, finds the threads you couldn't see, and tells you—in plain language—what your taste actually is.
Generate a style guide you can paste into Claude, ChatGPT, or your own notes. Your taste, made portable. Your aesthetic intuition, turned into infrastructure.
A collection might start like this—three passages saved over a few weeks:
The really important kind of freedom involves attention, and awareness, and discipline, and effort, and being able truly to care about other people and to sacrifice for them, over and over, in myriad petty little unsexy ways, every day.
— David Foster Wallace, This Is Water
Optimization is a way of life that can be a way of death. It is a practice that, at its logical end, becomes indistinguishable from the thing it was designed to prevent.
— Jia Tolentino, Trick Mirror
And deep within that system, in a processing facility in the Lehigh Valley, a guy named Michael has to sniff the sweatpants.
— Amanda Mull, The Atlantic
You're drawn to writers who make the stakes of everyday life feel philosophical without ever losing their sense of humor. There's a tension in your collection: grand moral seriousness next to the bluntest possible punchline. Your taste runs toward prose that earns its abstractions through radical specificity—someone who can move from sweatpants to freedom in the same breath and make both feel equally urgent.
Tastemaker transforms “I'll know it when I see it” into “here's specifically what I respond to and why.” The difference between vague intuition and usable knowledge.
Most AI writing sounds like everyone and no one. Feed your style guide to Claude or ChatGPT, and suddenly the output starts sounding like the writers you admire.
That passage you saved six months ago? Tastemaker remembers. Ask it to find everything you've collected about sentence rhythm, or openings, or the way good writers handle transitions. Your taste becomes searchable.
Most advice about finding your voice boils down to “read a lot and write a lot.” Which is true, but incomplete. You can read a thousand books and still not know what you're drawn to—not in a way you can name, teach, or hand to an AI assistant.
Tastemaker closes that gap.
Every time you encounter writing that works—a sentence that lands, a structure that clarifies, a voice that makes you want to keep reading—you save it. Over time, your collection becomes a map of your taste.
Then Tastemaker reads the map back to you.
It finds the patterns you couldn't see. That's the kind of insight that changes how you write. And when you export it as a style guide, it changes how AI writes for you, too.
Free. No account required for your first 3 clips.
Your taste, made portable.