Questions people ask

Somebody you hire rather than software you operate. Mark plans the week, writes the posts and the articles, makes the pictures, answers the comments underneath, and tells you what worked. You talk to it in a messaging app, the way you would talk to a person doing the job, and the only thing it needs from you is a yes.

No. Nothing publishes without your approval, and that is a rule in the code rather than a setting you have to find: an approval is recorded server-side, and the part of the system that schedules a post refuses anything that has not got one. Mark cannot grant it to itself.

What Mark does on its own is the work — planning, writing, drawing — so that what arrives is a finished thing to say yes or no to.

Reply in the chat. One word does a whole batch, or you can take them one at a time, change the wording, ask for a different picture, or throw one away. If you would rather see them laid out, every draft is on your calendar in the web app and can be approved from there instead.

You choose: once a week, or once a day, at an hour you pick. That appointment is when Mark writes — it is not a publishing schedule, and nothing goes out at that time. You can pause it for a business whenever you like and start it again later.

Not yet, and Mark will say so rather than agree and quietly forget. It schedules a known number of posts at known times — a week’s batch, or a campaign counted backwards from a date — and every one of them is a real entry you can see and cancel. A standing rule that keeps posting forever is a different thing, and we would rather refuse it than pretend.

Your social accounts, and your own site. The wall on the front page is the current list, drawn from what actually works rather than from a brochure — the greyed ones are not finished and are labelled as such. For the blog it publishes to WordPress or Wix, or to any other site through a signed webhook your developer can implement from the contract page.

Yes, and it is the better path. Send a photo and Mark writes the post around it; send one with a note and it will work on it — crop it, clean it, add something. Send nothing and it makes a picture for that post. What it never does is reach into a stock library, because a stock photograph of a bakery is not a photograph of your bakery.

From what people actually type into a search engine, not from what sounds good. Mark brings you a shortlist with the numbers beside each one and says why it passed over the others — usually because the big obvious phrase is one you cannot win, and the tiny one nobody searches for. You pick from the shortlist; it writes and publishes those.

Your business. The reply carries your Page’s name and picture, the way it would if you had typed it, and Mark is never a voice in the thread. It drafts the answer and waits for you before anything is sent — the same rule as a post.

It comes to you. Mark answers the ordinary questions and hands over anything that reads like a complaint, a dispute, or something it has no answer for — with the comment and a note saying why it stopped. A confident wrong reply under your own post, in front of your customers, is the one mistake worth being slow to avoid.

Up to about a quarter. Give it the date and what the run is for, and it counts backwards — how many posts that deserves, what each one is doing, and how far apart they sit. You approve the shape before anything is written, and the finished posts separately.

It reads the posts you have already written — with your permission, and you can decline and simply tell it instead — and keeps what it learns as a short profile you can see and edit. After that, every change you make to a draft is a correction it keeps. The profile is yours: you can read it, change it, or withdraw it.

Once a week, in one message, on the day you choose: what went out, what landed, which post did best, and what Mark is changing next because of it. Everything is also laid out on one screen in the web app if you want to go through it properly.

You will not get a score out of a hundred or a traffic light, because those are invented. You get the numbers the platforms actually reported, per account, and a blank where one has not reported yet rather than a zero.

It changes what it writes — the subjects, the accounts it leans on, the days things land — once there is enough evidence to be worth acting on. Two good posts is not a pattern, so nothing lurches after a single result. Everything it writes still comes to you for approval, so a change of direction is something you see in the next batch rather than something that happens behind you.

Yes. Each business has its own accounts, its own voice, its own schedule and its own calendar, and Mark asks which one you mean rather than guessing when it is ambiguous. They live on one account and one bill.

One plan, and you decide how much of the job it takes on — the accounts, the businesses, the blogs are a price list you tick, and the total moves as you do. The builder on the plans page is the whole of it; there is no quote and no call.

You cancel from your own billing page and it runs to the end of the period you have paid for. Nothing you published is touched — the posts are on your accounts and the articles are on your site, because they were always yours rather than ours.

Because your messaging account is your account. You sign in by tapping through it, which means there is nothing to remember, nothing to leak, and no way back in without that account — so keep it safe the way you would a bank app.

The drafts, the schedule, what was published and how it did, and the credentials for the accounts you connect — which are encrypted and used for nothing but publishing on your behalf. We do not sell anything to anybody. The full account is in the privacy policy, which describes what the code actually does rather than what a template says.