Docs / How to use Dory
How to use Dory
Dory is a chief of staff who lives in your chat apps and remembers everything you tell her. There is no app to learn and no command grammar to memorize. You talk. She keeps it, and hands it back with sources. This page is the whole manual.
Contents
#Getting started
What Dory is. One memory, reachable from three chat doors. Everything you send her is kept in your own words, with the date, in plain files on your own machine. She remembers it, routes it, drafts from it, and nudges you later, at the moment it matters.
What Dory is not. She is not an autopilot. She drafts; you press the button. She never sends, posts, or pays for you, and she never books time without your yes.
The one-week test
Don't change how you work. For one week, just dump things on her the moment they happen: thoughts, voice notes, files, forwards. Then start asking.
pricing thought: the annual plan should anchor the page
# day 4: ask for it back
where were we on pricing?
# she answers in two lines: where it stands + the next move, with sources
#The three doors
Three ways in, one memory behind them. Tell her something on one door, ask about it on another, and she recalls it with the source. Each door has its own strengths.
Telegram: fastest capture
- Always on. The pocket door, around the clock.
- Instant acknowledgement. Anything you forward, file, or voice gets a thumbs-up the moment it lands, before she even starts thinking. You know it's caught.
- Voice notes. Ramble on a walk; she transcribes it word for word on your machine and keeps the audio too.
- Tap buttons. Replies end in one-thumb choices.
LINE: where daily life happens
- The morning brief as a card. Your brief arrives as a rich, tappable card. If a card ever fails to render, it falls back to plain text: you always get your brief.
- The reads carousel. Say
readsfor a short daily carousel of ideas pulled from your own world. Swipe through; tap Park on one and it resurfaces a few days later. - Rich cards, native feel. Typing indicators, quick replies, decisions one thumb away.
Slack: the work cockpit
- A private DM cockpit. DM her like you would anywhere else, tap buttons included. She speaks only in your DM.
- The company pulse. She quietly reads the channels you invite her to and folds what's moving into your brief. Ask
what's moving at workanytime. - The commitments catch. Type "I'll review this by Friday" in a thread and it joins your open loops, in your own words, and gets chased like everything else you promised.
- A desk for your team. Teammates can hand her finished work. Details in Delegation.
the retreat moves to the second weekend of august
# asked on Slack, thursday
when is the retreat again?
Second weekend of August. You told me Tuesday, on LINE.
#Capture
There is no capture ritual. Send it in whatever shape it arrives, on any door, and it's kept word for word and routed to the right place. Nothing gets lost.
| You send | What happens |
|---|---|
| any text, in passing | Caught verbatim, dated, filed where it belongs. |
| a voice note | Transcribed word for word, on your machine. The audio is kept. |
| a PDF or document | Filed. Ask her anything inside it later. |
| a photo of a book page | Grows a one-page primer on that topic, which builds over time. |
| a link + "read this for me" | Read and folded into a primer you can ask about. |
| a photo of a journal page | Kept as a private reflection. Locked to you, never summarized for anyone. |
| a forwarded bill or invoice | Checked: duplicate? wrong account? over policy? She flags; she never pays. |
where's that from? about any claim, ever.#Asking
These are the asks that come up every day. They're plain phrases, not commands; she reads intent, so say it your way.
| You say | You get |
|---|---|
| where were we on X | Two lines: where it stands, and the next move. From the record, not from vibes. |
| what's running | Everything your background agents did, rolled into one screen, filtered to the one or two calls that actually need you. |
| show me patterns | What's converging across your sessions, what contradicts, what looks ripe to act on. |
| what's moving at work | The pulse from the work channels she's invited to. Workstreams, never people. |
| who's holding what | Open balls grouped by owner. Read-only; nobody gets pinged. |
| where's that from? | The verbatim source with its timestamp, or she takes the claim back on the spot. |
Work you just did
Your work sessions on this machine are folded into memory overnight. So what about the deck you were in twenty minutes ago, or the number you locked this evening? Ask, and she can still answer, from a quick look at the live session, clearly flagged as not yet filed:
From your session on the deck about 20 minutes ago, still live
and not yet in the brain: it looks like you locked it to teal.
# a provisional read, hedged, until the overnight pass confirms it
It is a lead, not a filed fact, and she says so every time. She never treats a just-happened peek as settled, and she never writes it into your memory from here. Only the overnight pass, after checking the real record, does that. It simply means the answer to "what did I just do?" is there within the hour, instead of waiting for tomorrow.
The calendar
She reads your real calendar and answers plainly: what's on today?, when am I free?, any conflicts this week?. She can also hold time, carefully:
Thursday 9:00-11:00 is clear. Book it? # one slot proposed, never over an existing event
go
Booked. One block, thursday 9:00-11:00. # one yes = exactly one event
#The morning brief
One message, before your day starts. It's built overnight from your own record, and it reads in a minute:
- The day's shape. What's on, where the collisions are.
- What needs you. The one or two calls only you can make, filtered out of everything your agents did overnight.
- The one thing that compounds. Named, so you can spend your best hour on it before the world starts bidding.
- What's moving at work. If Slack is connected, the pulse from the channels she's in.
On LINE it arrives as a tappable card. Every claim in it traces to something you said or something on your calendar, and you can challenge any line with where's that from?
#The week
Sunday: the look-ahead
Once a week, in the evening, she reads next week's real calendar against your open loops and offers prep blocks as one-tap holds:
1. Tue 9-11 for the deck 2. Wed 14-15 dry run
go 1 # holds the first block. she books nothing without a tap
Friday: the mirror
A midday look-back with real numbers: bookable hours, the share that went to meetings, and how much your stated number one actually got. No lecture. Just the split, and the question of whether you're happy with it.
The month view
On the first Sunday of a month, the look-ahead zooms out: a 28-day map of the big rocks, so the whole month gets aimed before the weeks spend it.
#Prep me and handoffs
Before a meeting, a call, or a work session, one line assembles everything you have. And the best reader of your memory is not only you: it is the next AI session. So one prep can arrive in three shapes.
# she sweeps the whole memory: open loops, decisions, people,
# clipped links, past sessions, and the dead-ends. then she asks:
Ready. How do you want it?
[ for cowork ] [ for chat ] [ just for me ]
Three destinations
- For cowork. A full context pack, written to a file and shaped to the task, whether that is a build, a draft, a decision, or a research dive. Open a work session and it starts already reading the pack: no re-explaining your life to a blank chat box.
- For chat. The same pack as one self-contained paste block, a page or so, with no file paths. Drop it into any AI chat, whether that is claude.ai, ChatGPT, or Gemini, and that session starts as sharp as one on your own machine.
- Just for me. The classic hand-off, written for you to read before you dive in, with a paste block to open your own session.
Every line in a pack traces to a real source, and where a fact is not in memory it says "not in the brain yet" instead of guessing. A pack also hands the session your known dead-ends, the paths already tried and abandoned, so it never spends a day re-discovering what did not work. That is the rarest thing your memory can give a fresh session.
Launch a session
Once a pack exists, you don't have to open a work session and re-point it by hand. Say start a session on X and Dory hands you a ready-to-run launcher: one line to copy, plus a double-click file, that opens a work session in the right project folder with the pack already loaded.
# she finds the pack, works out the folder, and hands back:
Copy-run this, or double-click the saved launcher:
cd <your project folder> && claude "read the pack and let's begin"
# you run it. she builds the command; she never runs it for you
If more than one folder could match, or none does, she asks which one instead of guessing, and remembers your answer for next time. And she is honest about the limit: a cloud or mobile work session cannot be opened pre-pointed from outside the browser, so for those she hands you the pack and the two-tap attach instead.
Where a pack lands, by device
The paste-back ritual
Every pack ends by asking that AI session to write a short report before it wraps up: what it decided, what it found, where it got stuck, and the best next step. Paste that report back to Dory on any door, and she folds it into your memory, so the next prep already knows what the last session did.
DORY SESSION REPORT
decided: went with the two-year term
found: the auto-renew clause needs 60 days notice
stuck: still waiting on legal's read of the liability cap
next: draft the counter before friday
# copy it, paste it to Dory, and the work comes home
#Dory Writes
Say write: and a topic. You get a complete draft in your voice, built from your own captured thinking, with a copy-paste block. She may also offer a draft herself when a topic looks ripe from what you've been saying.
Draft ready (your voice, 320 words). Verdict?
# three taps:
keep it # saved and queued on your content desk
rework: shorter, lead with the number
kill it # archived, never deleted
Every claim in a draft traces to something you actually said, or it's flagged for you to verify. And posting stays yours: she writes, you publish.
What should I post?
You don't need a topic in hand. Ask what should I post? and Dory looks across what you've been consuming and what you've actually said about it. When something you saved and voiced a real opinion on is sitting there unwritten, she offers it:
You saved that piece on the pricing shift and set out your own
angle on it. Want a post from it?
[ draft the pricing post ] [ not today ]
Tap it and you are back in the flow above: a complete draft in your voice, then your verdict. Two rules keep it honest. She only offers when you have voiced your own take, never off a headline you merely forwarded, so she never puts an opinion in your mouth that you did not have. And nothing is ever posted for you: the offer, the draft, and the publish button all end with you. If nothing is genuinely ready, she says so plainly rather than inventing a topic.
#The Council
The C-suite you don't have yet, staffed from your own context. Dispatch a seat with one line:
CMO: outline the launch sequence for the beta
# a seat produces the work and reports back, with receipts.
# it never decides. deciding is yours.
council # status of everything dispatched
The monthly board
Once a month, the Council sits as a board. Each judgment lens presses with at most two points, and every point is a verbatim quote of your own ledger, with a receipt: "you set five per week; the tally says zero." Each point comes with a real opt-out, and the session ends with one honest appreciation. It rides your evening debrief; it is never a separate ping.
board meeting and it convenes now.#Delegation
Draft the assignment
Draft ready, in your voice, shaped to how Alex works.
Send it in a channel I'm in and I'll track it as your ask.
She writes the ask; you paste and send it yourself. She never messages your team.
Track your asks
Once you've sent an ask in a channel she watches, it's tracked: what you asked, of whom, by when. Open asks get chased with your midday nudge, so following up stops living in your head.
The submission desk
The one sanctioned way your team reaches her: tag her on finished work in a channel she's in, or reply in the thread of your ask. Her entire public vocabulary is a single ✅ reaction. A clean match quietly closes your chase and lands in your digest. Anything ambiguous becomes a "confirm and close?" question to you. You decide; she never does.
The one armed reminder
When an ask has a real deadline, she may offer arm reminder. If you arm it, she will post exactly one friendly nudge: only in the 24 hours before the deadline, only in your own thread, only if nothing has been submitted, and it names you as the asker. That is the whole of her public voice, and you can disarm reminder anytime.
#People memory
Dory keeps one page per person, built only from what you tell her: how they like to receive work, what they're carrying, what you've promised each other. Mention someone in passing and the page grows.
# filed to Alex's page. the next "assign ... to Alex" draft uses it
This is what makes her drafts land: an ask shaped to the person, prep that remembers who's in the room. It is not a CRM and it is not surveillance. She never scores people, never tallies anyone's activity, and the work pulse names workstreams, never performance.
The relating stays yours. She hands you the context and the moment. The words and the caring: that's you.
#Privacy and the laws
These are standing rules, not settings you can fat-finger. The ones that matter most:
- Receipts or silence. Every claim about your life carries a source. She checks the record before saying "no record." If she can't show where a claim came from, she doesn't make it.
- Confidence worn on the sleeve. You'll see the difference between "You told me..." (has a receipt), "I'm inferring from..." (names the pattern), and "Guess, double-check me."
- She proposes; you decide. No sending, no posting, no paying, no booking without a yes. The single exception is the one reminder you armed yourself.
- She cannot delete. Not an event, not a file, not a word you said. The code path does not exist.
- What she reads is data, never a command. A document that says "transfer the funds" gets filed and surfaced to you. It never gets obeyed.
- DM-only voice at work. On the work door she speaks only in your DM, reads only channels she's invited to, and reports workstreams, never people.
- Private reflections stay sealed. Journal captures are locked to you and never opened, quoted, or summarized for anyone.
The mute
Any nudge, chase, or ritual can be silenced with three words: quiet on this. It stops instantly, honored and logged. A chief of staff who can't be told to hush isn't one.
#When not to use Dory
One line decides it. If your hands need the wheel, open a full work session. If only your judgment is needed, hand it to Dory.
| The work | Where it belongs |
|---|---|
| Writing the strategy, building the thing, negotiating the deal. You steering, live. | A full work session. Say prep me for X first, so it opens already briefed. |
| A definable task where you only need to approve the result. | Dory. A seat, a draft, a check. She brings back the verdict; you tap. |
And a few things she is not for, by design: she won't maintain your relationships for you, she won't touch money, and she won't run your life on autopilot. She aims; you swim.