The Formula: Act as / Do this / Constraints / Format
A "prompt" is just instructions.
A prompt is what you type (or say) into Claude. That's it. The reason most prompts give you "meh" answers is because you gave instructions a real human couldn't have followed either.
Think about the difference between these two messages to a brand-new tutor who just walked into your dorm:
"Help me with my paper."
A new tutor would stare at you. Help how? What class? What stage? What's the assignment? Are you stuck on the thesis or the conclusion or the citations?
If they're being polite, they'll guess and give you something generic. If they're being honest, they'll ask 6 questions before doing anything useful.
"I'm in 200-level US History. The prompt is 'evaluate the New Deal's long-term economic impact.' I have a draft thesis. I want a tutor to push back on whether my argument actually holds up. Don't rewrite: just tell me what's weak."
Now the tutor knows what to do. Same tutor, same brain: way better outcome.
That's the entire skill. You're not learning prompt-magic. You're learning to brief a smart helper who can't read your mind.
The reframe: Claude isn't a search engine
Most students prompt Claude like Google: type the topic, hit enter, expect the answer to surface. Google is a vending machine: same input, same product. Claude is a tutor: what you get is shaped by how you brief them. The two-word search ("New Deal essay") that works fine on Google produces the most generic, bot-flavored answer Claude is capable of. The four-sentence brief produces a real one.
One formula. Four lines.
This is the lesson the rest of the module rests on. Most prompts you'll write for the rest of school can be a lightly customized version of this:
Act as
Who Claude should be. Tutor? Editor? Skeptical TA? Career counselor? "Help me with my essay" lets Claude pick. "Be a tough but fair AP English teacher" gives you that teacher.
Do this
What you actually want it to do: with a verb. Brainstorm? Outline? Critique? Quiz me? Translate? "Help" is not a verb Claude can act on. "Quiz me with 10 multiple-choice questions" is.
Constraints
What it should and shouldn't do. Don't write the paper. Don't suggest specific quotes. Stay under 250 words. Stay in casual tone. Limits are how you keep the answer in the lane that's useful to you.
Format
What the answer should look like. A bulleted list? A 2-paragraph reply? A table? A back-and-forth conversation? "Format" is the thing students leave off most. It's why answers come back as 800 words when you wanted 80.
The shortest version
If you only remember one pattern: "Be a [role]. [Verb] [thing]. Don't [limit]. Output as [format]." Four sentences. You can flip them around, write them in one paragraph, leave one out when it doesn't apply. The point isn't the labels: it's the reflex of noticing when one of the four is missing. When an answer comes back wrong, your first move is to ask: "which of the four did I forget?"
Worked example #1: the study quiz.
Subject: a chem midterm in three days. Watch the formula get filled in line by line, then read the final prompt. This is the shape you'll use over and over for studying.
Act as
"Be a patient gen-chem TA who's good at finding the gap between 'I memorized it' and 'I actually understand it.'"
Do this
"Quiz me on stoichiometry and limiting reagents. 8 questions, mixing easy and hard. Ask one at a time. Wait for my answer. Tell me if I'm right; if I'm not, give me the one-sentence correction."
Constraints
"Don't lecture me before the questions. Don't give the answer until I've tried. Don't use any units I haven't seen in intro chem."
Format
"After all 8, give me a short summary: my 2 weakest spots and what to study tonight (max 4 bullets)."
Worked example #2: emailing a tough professor.
Different task, same formula. You missed a deadline; you want to ask for an extension without sounding like you're making up an excuse. The lazy version is "write me an email." The briefed version produces something you can actually send.
Why this email comes back better than "write me an email"
The lazy version produces a 200-word, three-paragraph apology that doesn't sound like you. The briefed version names the prof's vibe (direct, no-melodrama), gives the actual reason, sets a length, bans groveling, and asks for a check on whether you've thought about the syllabus first.
Worked example #3:a real brainstorm.
This one's the most counterintuitive. Most students think brainstorms should be open-ended: that constraints kill creativity. The opposite is true. The looser the brief, the more generic the ideas.
The lazy version
"Give me ideas for my college essay."
What comes back: 15 generic prompts you've already seen on every college-essay blog. "Write about overcoming adversity." "Write about a moment that changed you." Useless.
The briefed version
The full prompt below. What comes back: 8 angles that are actually about your life, with specific moments to draw from for the essay.
The "no generic" trick is doing huge work here
One line:"don't pitch any angle that would work for any student":forces Claude past the top-of-the-pile college essay clichés it's read a million times. You're saving it from giving you the easy answer. The full Module 6 college-app workflow uses this same move repeatedly.
Build the muscle: three prompts to write yourself this week.
Reading worked examples is reading. Writing your own prompts: using the formula deliberately, even when it feels like overkill: is the muscle. Pick one and run it before the next lesson.
Pick one and actually write it out
- A real assignment you have this week. Quiz prep, paper outline, problem-set check, language-class drill. Use the formula. Run it.
- A real email you're putting off. Asking for a recommendation, replying to your boss about hours, telling a group project member their part isn't done. Use the formula. Don't send the draft as-is: rewrite it in your voice.
- A real decision you're stuck on. Use Claude to help you walk through the facts and trade-offs: not to make the decision for you. The decision is still yours. Try "Help me think through whether to drop X class," or "compare two summer programs I got into." Force yourself to put the constraints in.
Try this: the "find the missing piece" diagnostic
After you run your prompt, before you do anything else, ask yourself one question about the answer that came back: "Which of the four did I underspecify?"
If the answer is too long → you forgot Format (length). If the answer is in a weird voice → you forgot Constraints (tone) or Act as (the role). If it didn't actually do what you wanted → your verb in Do this was vague. If it lectured at you when you wanted a back-and-forth → again, Format (one question at a time vs. a wall).
This single diagnostic question replaces most "Claude isn't very good at this" frustration. The model is good. The brief was thin.
The formula is a paper trail in disguise
Honest Work Code · Rule 2: your work survives scrutiny. A prompt that says "Act as a TA. Quiz me. Don't give answers until I try. Summarize my weak spots" is a prompt you can show anyone. You used Claude as a tutor, not a ghostwriter.
Up next: 2.2: Five Upgrades
You've got the spine. Now we make any answer noticeably better with five small additions: context, examples, tone, length, format: applied to the same starter prompt.
Continue to 2.2:Five Upgrades →