What actually happens at the workshop.

People keep asking me the same question about the workshop: "What actually happens?" They have seen the page, they have read the schedule, but they still do not quite know what they are signing up for. Fair enough. So let me just show you.

What follows is a composite of real sessions. The names are changed, the details are shifted around, but the feel is accurate. This is what two hours at the table actually looks like.

12:00 -- Coffee and introductions

Five people arrive. They do not know each other. There is a long table, a coffee machine, and a plate of pastries that nobody touches for the first ten minutes because everyone is being polite.

I ask the same opening question every time: "Tell me your name, what you do, and one thing you have been putting off." This is not a trick. It is the thing we are going to use Claude for in about twenty minutes.

This particular session, the table looked like this:

• Helen, 64. Retired headteacher. Her daughter set up a Claude account for her last Christmas. She has opened it twice. She brought a letter she needs to write to the council about a planning application near her house.
• James, 42. Runs a small estate agency in Tring. He writes property descriptions all day and hates every one of them. He has heard of ChatGPT. He does not know what Claude is.
• Priya, 35. Freelance graphic designer. Technically competent, but has never used AI for anything beyond the odd image generator. She wants to know if Claude can help with the admin side of freelancing: invoices, contracts, awkward client emails.
• David, 57. Semi-retired accountant. Still does the books for three or four old clients. He is here because his wife told him to stop being a dinosaur.
• Nadia, 29. Works for a small charity. She spends most of her week writing grant applications, and she has two due next Friday. She looks slightly stressed.

Everyone is nervous. Everyone thinks they are the least technical person in the room. This is always the case.

12:15 -- Opening it up together

We start by getting everyone logged in. This sounds simple, and it mostly is, but there is always someone who cannot remember their password, and someone else whose laptop has not been updated since 2023. That is fine. We sort it out.

Once everyone has Claude open in their browser, I ask them to type one sentence. Anything at all. "What should I have for dinner?" is fine. The point is to see that it replies, that it is conversational, and that nothing breaks.

James types: "What is Claude?" Claude explains itself. He looks faintly surprised that it is polite.

Helen types: "I am 64 and I have never used AI before. Can you help me write a letter?" Claude says yes, and asks what the letter is about. She turns to me and says, "Is it always this friendly?" It is.

This is the moment I look forward to. The moment people realise it is just talking. There is no special syntax, no commands to memorise, no right way to phrase things. You just say what you need.

12:25 -- The topic, gently

Today's session is "Getting started," so I spend about fifteen minutes showing three things Claude is genuinely good at:

1. Drafting things you have been putting off. Letters, emails, complaints, job applications. The things that sit in your mental to-do list for weeks because you cannot face the blank page.
2. Explaining things that confuse you. Insurance documents, legal letters, tax forms, school policies. Paste it in, ask "What does this actually mean in plain English?"
3. Being a second brain for messy thinking. "I need to plan my mum's 80th birthday and I have no idea where to start." Claude does not judge you. It just helps you think.

I show these on my screen, live, with real examples. Not slides. Not a presentation. Just me typing and talking through what comes back.

David leans over to Priya and whispers, "This is actually quite good." Priya nods. She has already started typing something into her own laptop.

12:45 -- Your turn

This is the part that matters. Everyone works on their own thing. The task they brought with them. The thing they have been putting off.

I go round the table, one by one, and help each person get started. Here is what happened:

Helen's letter

Helen tells Claude about the planning application. She describes the situation in three rambling sentences, the way you would tell a friend. Claude writes back a clear, firm, polite letter to the council. Helen reads it, says "That is exactly what I wanted to say but could not find the words for," and asks how to make the tone slightly less formal. She adjusts it twice. The whole thing takes about eight minutes.

She has been putting this letter off for two months.

James's property descriptions

James pastes in one of his recent listings. It is fine. It sounds like every other estate agency listing in Hertfordshire. I show him how to give Claude some context: "I run a small, friendly agency. We are not Foxtons. Write property descriptions that sound warm and local, not corporate."

Claude rewrites the listing. James reads it out loud to the table. It is noticeably better. More specific. Less generic. He says, "Can it do all twelve from last week?" It can.

He pastes in three more listings before lunch.

Priya's client email

Priya has a client who keeps asking for revisions without paying for them. She has been dreading the conversation. She types: "I need to email a client who keeps requesting extra work outside the agreed scope. I want to be firm but not burn the relationship. Here is the situation..." and describes it in a paragraph.

Claude drafts an email that is professional, warm, and clear about boundaries. Priya says, "I could not have written this without getting emotional." She sends it during the session.

David's client letter

David needs to explain a tax change to his older clients in language they will actually understand. He has been sending the same HMRC-flavoured letter for years. He pastes it in and says, "Make this sound like a human being wrote it."

Claude rewrites it. David reads it, pauses, and says, "My clients are going to think I've hired a copywriter." He has not smiled this much all morning.

Nadia's grant application

Nadia is the one who worries me slightly, because grant applications are high stakes. But she does not need Claude to write the whole thing. She needs help with the section she always gets stuck on: the "impact statement." She pastes in the funder's criteria and her rough notes and asks Claude to help her structure the argument.

It gives her a framework she has never thought of. She spends the rest of the session filling it in, checking back with Claude when she gets stuck on phrasing. By lunch she has a solid first draft. Her second application is due Friday. She says she will do it the same way tonight.

1:30 -- Lunch and the quiet questions

Sandwiches arrive. People relax. This is when the real questions come out. The ones people did not want to ask in front of everyone.

"Is it reading my emails?" No.

"Can it see my files?" Only what you paste in.

"What happens to what I tell it?" I explain the privacy model honestly: Claude does not train on your conversations by default, but you should not paste in anything you would not put in an email.

"Is there a free version?" Yes, but the paid version is better and faster. I show the difference.

Helen asks, "Can I use it on my iPad?" She can. I show her the app.

David asks, "What about for doing my expenses?" I show him how to describe what he needs and get Claude to help him think through categories. He takes a photo of the screen.

These quiet conversations over lunch are often the most valuable part.

2:00 -- Going home

Everyone gets a cheat sheet. One side has five things to try this week. The other side has the tips we covered in the session: how to start a conversation, how to give context, how to ask for changes. It fits on one piece of paper.

I ask the same closing question I always ask: "What is the one thing you are going to use Claude for this week?"

• Helen: "Finishing that letter and sending it. Tonight."
• James: "Monday's listings. All of them."
• Priya: "Rewriting my contract template. I have been meaning to do it for a year."
• David: "Explaining the pension changes to Mrs Henderson. She has been asking for weeks."
• Nadia: "Finishing the second grant application. If it works as well as the first one, I might actually sleep this weekend."

They leave in ones and twos. James and David swap numbers in the car park. Helen asks if she can bring her friend next month. Priya has already booked the June session on her phone.

The thing I notice every time

Everyone arrives thinking they are going to learn a technology. Nobody leaves talking about technology. They talk about the letter they wrote, the email they sent, the application they finally started. The AI is not the point. The point is the thing that was stuck, that is not stuck any more.

That is what actually happens. Five people, a table, some sandwiches, and two hours of getting unstuck.

If that sounds like your kind of afternoon, the next session is May 29th in Berkhamsted. There are three spots left.