You wrote it once and never looked back.
Most bios get written in the five minutes between finishing a profile and wanting to close the tab, and then sit there for years while everything else about the person changes. Nobody schedules a review of their own bio. Something else usually has to force it.
The old bio isn't wrong. It's just a photograph of who you used to be.
A bio rarely fails because it lies. It fails because it was accurate for the person who wrote it, at the job they had then, for the audience they were talking to at the time — and none of those three things has stood still since. The job title changed. The audience changed. The one credential that used to matter got quietly overtaken by three years of actual work nobody wrote down.
Ask a general-purpose chatbot to "make my bio better" and it will happily polish the sentences you already have — tighten a clause, swap an adjective, leave the structure exactly where it was. That's editing a photograph, not taking a new one. The bio still opens with the old job title, still closes with a credential that was the whole story once and is now one line among several.
This job starts from the opposite end. Your existing bio is read purely as evidence of what's gone stale, and the new one is built from what you actually do now, in your own words. Nothing gets invented to replace what's missing — a specific that would help and wasn't supplied is flagged once, in the notes, rather than guessed at three times through the copy.
What it builds from your answers.
Eight fields: your current bio, where it goes, what you actually do in plain words, who reads it and what you want them to do, the real specifics, anything to keep, anything to drop, and how you want to sound. Back come three complete versions — one line, short and long — plus notes on fitting each to the platform.
Here is what one thin old sentence becomes.
Passionate marketing professional with a results-driven approach to helping brands grow. Experienced in digital strategy and content creation.
I run the email programme for a [ADD FACT: size of company] homeware brand — the ones that land in your inbox on a Tuesday and get you to actually click. Before this I spent two years writing product pages nobody read past the first line, which is why I care so much about the first line now.
Notice what disappeared entirely: "passionate," "results-driven," "digital strategy," every phrase from the old bio that could describe several thousand other LinkedIn profiles word for word. What replaced it is specific enough that a stranger could repeat it back. The one flagged gap — company size — is a genuine one, not a placeholder standing in for a paragraph of invented detail.
How it works.
- Paste your current bio and answer seven more questions. The "what you actually do" field matters most — the old bio is only evidence, this is the material the new one is actually built from.
- Top up once and the rewrite runs. That funds your balance. This job is about 26p — never more than 40p and only ever charges what the finished rewrite actually cost. Asking for a change is a fresh run and draws on the balance again too.
- Six things land in your account. What the old bio was costing you, the one-line version, the short version, the long version, notes for fitting it to your platform, and next actions.
Nothing is charged for a run that fails to produce a result.
Who this suits.
Worth it if
- Your bio still names a job you left, a title you've outgrown, or a version of your work that's now out of date.
- You need the same person described at three different lengths for three different places.
- You've read your own bio recently and winced, but couldn't say exactly why.
- You want one specific tone — dry, warm, formal, plain — carried consistently across all three versions.
Not worth it if
- You've never written a bio at all and have nothing to react against yet — start with what you actually do instead.
- You want it to invent a client, a qualification or a number you don't actually have. It won't, on principle.
- You're happy with your current bio and only want a synonym swapped here and there. That's an edit, not a rewrite.
What people ask before they paste the old one in.
I have three different bios on three different sites. Which one do I paste in?
Whichever one you dislike most — it's read as evidence of what's going wrong, not as a draft to preserve. The rewrite is built fresh from what you actually do in your own words, so the other two sites can each get their own run later if they need different lengths or a different platform's conventions.
Will it just tidy up the sentences I already wrote?
No — a light edit was never going to fix a bio that opens with a job title and closes with three unverifiable adjectives. The old one is pulled apart for what it's costing you, then rebuilt from your own answer about what you actually do, keeping only the specific lines you asked to keep.
Will the short version just be the long one with words removed?
No — each length is written as a complete bio in its own right, not a truncation of the one above it. The long version may carry a second specific the short one never had room for, rather than the same one fact stretched out with more adjectives.
It'll sound too casual for a speaker programme, or too stiff for Instagram, won't it?
You name the platform and it follows that platform's actual convention: first person on LinkedIn, Instagram or a website about page, third person on a speaker or press profile that gets reprinted as written. The platform notes in your result state which convention it used, so you can overrule it if you'd rather not.
Will it invent a client, an award or a number my old bio never had?
No. Nothing about you is upgraded — one client does not become several, two years does not become a decade. Where a specific would genuinely strengthen a sentence and you didn't give one, that goes into the platform notes as one flagged gap instead of being scattered through the copy as guesses.
Can it write in a funny or dry tone without it reading like a comedy routine?
That's the aim — dry and funny means one dry line placed well, not a bio built entirely around a joke. Whichever tone you choose, it still has to say what you actually do inside the first eight words, before it gets to be clever about anything.
Does this include my headshot, my handle or anything else on my profile?
No — it rewrites the bio text only, in the three lengths, plus notes on fitting each to the platform you named. It will not state an age, a marital status, a nationality, a home address or any contact detail you didn't supply for publication, and it never quotes a follower or subscriber figure.
Ready to retire the old one?
Paste the bio you already have, and be honest in the "what you actually do" field — that's the sentence everything else gets built from, not the old bio itself.
Top up once. No subscription. About 26p — never more than 40p.