Anna works around the clock to catch trends, draft your posts, answer any comments and keep your feed alive with real content.
Something cool happens. But the posting is the thing that slides to Friday, then to next week, then to never.
You have a marketing colleague, but 15 stories should be posted across 5 channels. No-one can keep up.
Monday it happens. But the story fades and isn't posted.
Everyone says it, and everyone is right to. A post that sounds like nobody is worse than no post at all, and most AI writing sounds like nobody.
So Anna doesn't write a word until she's read you. Your old posts, your site, the way you answer a comment when you're being warm and when you're being brief. You set the lines once. She stays inside them, and you still read every word before anyone else does.
You'll see it before anyone else does. Every post, reply and caption lands in a queue and waits there. Approve, edit or decline. Nothing has ever left that queue on its own, and nothing is meant to.
Ten minutes, most weeks. You read a handful of drafts on your phone, tap approve on most of them, rewrite the odd line. The writing, the timing and the comment-watching are already done.
No, and she's worse at their job than they are. She doesn't know your customers and she can't read a room. What she does is volume: the drafts, the first replies, the calendar. Your person edits and decides, which is the part worth paying for.
LinkedIn, Instagram and Facebook. She reads the comments on all three and drafts the replies in the same place she drafts the posts.
That's exactly why the queue exists. Grief, price, promises, anything about a named person: those sit on the ask-first list from day one, and you can add to it. Anna raises them instead of deciding them.
Access to the accounts, an hour to set the voice and the no-go list, and a name for whoever approves. First drafts land within the week.