How to Build a Personal Knowledge Management System That Actually Sticks
I've built and abandoned more note-taking systems than I can count. Evernote, then Notion, then Obsidian, then a brief and embarrassing detour into a folder of
I’ve been running a bilingual blog for about six years now — English on one side, Chinese on the other. Not translated copies of each other, which is a trap a lot of people fall into, but two versions that say roughly the same thing in the way each audience actually reads.
For the first few years I did all of it by hand. Then AI writing tools showed up, and I spent an embarrassing amount of money testing them. Some were genuinely useful. Some were a waste of a weekend. A few were actively harmful because they produced Chinese that read like a machine translating English word by word — which, of course, is exactly what was happening.
So here’s my honest list. I’m ranking these by how well they handle the specific problem of writing natively in both languages, not by how good they are at English alone. That distinction matters more than any feature list.
Before the list, let me be blunt about what you’re actually trying to solve.
Most AI writing tools are built English-first. Chinese is an afterthought — a translation feature bolted on. The result is text that’s grammatically fine and culturally dead. It uses 的 far too often. It writes 我们需要注意到 (“we need to note that”) when a Chinese blogger would just say 说白了. It has no feel for 成语, no sense of when a four-character phrase lands and when it’s showing off.
The good tools for us do one of two things well: either they write natively in Chinese (trained on real Chinese text, not translated text), or they’re smart enough to let you rewrite rather than translate. The bad ones do neither, and they’re the majority.
Here’s what I actually use and recommend.
This is what I write in most days, and it’s my top pick for a specific reason: it handles Chinese with a naturalness I haven’t found elsewhere. When I ask it to write a paragraph in Chinese, it doesn’t produce translationese. It knows when to drop the subject, when to use 吧 or 呢 for tone, when a shorter sentence hits harder.
The catch: it’s not a translation tool. If you feed it English and say “translate this,” you get a decent but stiff result. The trick is to rewrite, not translate. I paste my English draft, then ask it to rewrite the same idea in Chinese for a Chinese reader. That’s a different instruction, and it changes everything.
I use it for both languages, switching between them in the same conversation. It keeps context well, which means I can say “now make the Chinese version more casual” and it knows what I mean.
If Claude is my daily driver, DeepSeek is the one I reach for when I want Chinese that sounds like a Chinese person wrote it. It’s trained heavily on Chinese content, and it shows. Idioms land correctly. The rhythm is right. For purely Chinese drafts, it’s often better than anything Western.
The trade-off is that its English is weaker than Claude’s or GPT’s. So I use it asymmetrically: English draft in Claude, Chinese draft in DeepSeek, then I edit both. Two tools instead of one, but the output is better.
It’s also cheap, which matters if you’re generating a lot of text. I won’t quote prices because they change constantly — check the current pricing yourself.
The obvious one, and it’s on the list because it’s genuinely competent at both languages. It won’t blow you away in either, but it’s reliable. For a blogger who wants one subscription and doesn’t want to think too hard, this is the safe default.
Where it falls down: Chinese output leans slightly formal and slightly translated, especially on longer pieces. It also has a habit of over-structuring — everything becomes a bulleted list with bold headers. I spend time un-structuring what it produces. That’s fine for a rough draft, annoying for a final one.
Use it, but edit the Chinese. Don’t publish it raw.
Google’s model is interesting for bilingual work because it handles mixed-language input gracefully. I can write a prompt that’s half English, half Chinese, and it doesn’t get confused. If you think in two languages like I do, that’s a small but real quality-of-life win.
Its Chinese is somewhere between ChatGPT and DeepSeek — better than the former, not as native as the latter. Its English is strong. For research-heavy posts where I’m pulling from sources in both languages, it’s my pick.
I’ll be honest: Notion AI is not the best writer here. But it lives inside where I already draft, and that’s worth something. When I’m writing in Notion and want a quick rewrite of a paragraph in Chinese, I don’t have to leave the page.
It’s a convenience pick, not a quality pick. If you already live in Notion, it earns its keep. If you don’t, skip it.
DeepL’s translation is the best I’ve used for English-to-Chinese literal translation — better than Google Translate by a wide margin. But DeepL Write is a different product: it’s a rewriting assistant, and it’s genuinely good at polishing Chinese prose you’ve already written.
My workflow: draft in Chinese (often with DeepSeek), then run it through DeepL Write to catch awkward phrasing. It’s not a writer. It’s an editor. Used that way, it’s excellent.
Yes, it’s English-only, and yes, that’s a limitation. But for the English half of your blog, it’s still the most reliable proofreader. I run every English post through it before publishing.
The reason it’s on a bilingual list: your English needs to be as clean as your Chinese, and most bilingual bloggers let their English slide because they’re focused on the harder language. Don’t. Grammarly keeps that side honest.
Copy.ai is built for marketing copy, and that’s exactly what it’s good at. If your blog has promotional posts, landing pages, or social captions in both languages, it handles those short-form formats well.
It’s not a long-form tool. Don’t try to write a 2000-word essay with it. But for the 150-word LinkedIn post in two languages? It’s fast and fine.
Similar positioning to Copy.ai, slightly broader. It does decent bilingual short-form and has a translation mode. The Chinese is acceptable but not native — expect to edit.
I keep it around for one specific job: generating multiple headline variations in both languages. It’s good at that narrow task.
This is a Chinese product, and for Chinese-to-English work it’s often better than Western tools going the other direction. If you write in Chinese first and translate to English — the reverse of my usual flow — Youdao is worth trying.
Its English output still needs editing. But it understands Chinese source text better than tools built in the West, because it was built for Chinese users. That matters.
Here’s my real workflow, stripped of the tool names:
The reading-out-loud step catches more than any tool. If a Chinese sentence trips my tongue, it’ll trip a reader’s eye.
No single tool does both languages well. That’s the truth nobody selling you a subscription wants to admit. The best bilingual bloggers I know use two or three tools and edit heavily. The ones who publish raw AI output in both languages get found out fast — Chinese readers especially can smell translated text from a mile away.
Pick one strong English tool (Claude or ChatGPT), one strong Chinese tool (DeepSeek or Claude), and one editor (DeepL Write or Grammarly). That’s it. Everything else is noise.
Can I just translate my English posts into Chinese? You can, but they’ll read as translations. Chinese readers notice. Rewrite the ideas instead of translating the sentences.
Is DeepSeek really better at Chinese than ChatGPT? For native-feeling Chinese, usually yes. For English, no. Use each where it’s strong.
Do I need to pay for all of these? No. Most have free tiers good enough to test. Start with one English tool and one Chinese tool, and only add more when you hit a wall.
What about Traditional vs Simplified Chinese? Specify it in your prompt every time. Tools default inconsistently, and switching scripts after the fact is a pain.
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