Schedules

Set the time,
then close the laptop.

Give a piece its destinations and its moment and leave. Each destination becomes a real instruction with its own hour, and every minute the platform asks what is due and sends it, reading the words and the pictures as they stand at that second. Everything here runs on a clock you set or a button you pressed. Nothing watches your workspace for things happening and acts on them, which is exactly why you can predict what it will do while you are asleep.

Schedules, close up

The clock on the left. The queue in the middle. You in the middle too.

PlanningTo doDoingTestingProduction

Set by you

Runs on the clock

Where it lands

What is travelling those lines

  • Next Tuesday, half past ninethree destinations, three instructions, none of them needs you again
  • A typo fixed on Monday nightthe words are read at the moment it fires, not at the moment you scheduled it
  • Half past four for the audiencethe brand's own business hours, not the platform's
  • A newsletter to everyoneone instruction per subscriber, paced against the same limits a single send obeys
  • A send the far end refusedtried again, then left alone with the reason on the piece
  • Sources read overnightdrafts wait for you to judge; nothing is published by it

This is the same map as the one on the front of Solutions, zoomed into one surface. Every arrow starts at a clock or at a person, because those are the only two things in here that start anything.

What it does

A queue you can leave alone, and a clock that belongs to your audience.

A moment, not a reminder

Scheduling a post writes one real instruction per destination, each holding its own hour. Three channels are three instructions, so they succeed and fail one at a time instead of as a lump, and each one can carry a different moment.

The words are read at the moment it fires

Nothing about the post is copied into the queue. The instruction resolves the content, the caption and the pictures at the second it goes, so an edit made on Sunday night is the version that lands on Tuesday morning. There is no stale copy anywhere to go out by mistake.

Half past four, for the people reading

A schedule that belongs to a brand has its next slot worked out against that brand's own business hours, the ones set on the brand. Run several brands in several places and none of them needs you doing arithmetic. A schedule that belongs to the whole workspace has no brand to borrow hours from, so it runs on the platform clock.

An hour that passed stays passed

A send whose moment went by while the workspace was unreachable is marked missed rather than fired hours late. This is the fear people actually have about scheduling, answered directly: a post for Friday morning will not appear on Saturday night.

Retries that give up on purpose

A refused send is tried again after a growing wait, a small number of times, and then stops. It does not loop, it does not keep hammering a channel that has said no, and it stays on the piece with the reason it was given so you can send it again yourself.

Now and next Tuesday take the same path

Publishing this second and publishing next week run through one execution path. That is not tidiness for its own sake: it is the reason a scheduled publish behaves exactly like the one you watched work, rather than being a second implementation that drifts.

Pausing does not build a backlog

Pause a brand while you rework it and its scheduled work stops, while its slots keep moving forward. Come back a month later and it starts from today. Nothing replays, and nothing arrives all at once as punishment for taking the time.

A newsletter paces itself

One send becomes one instruction per subscriber, and each one passes the same suppression, duplicate and rate rules a single send obeys. A large list goes out steadily rather than in one burst, and anyone beyond the pace goes back in the queue for a later minute rather than being dropped.

Running before you set anything up

Every workspace starts with the drain of the queue already switched on, which is why a scheduled post goes out without you on your first day, and with a daily health check of your connected accounts so the rest of the product already knows the state of them rather than making you wait while it asks.

The boundary, said plainly

Everything in here starts with a clock or a button.

Products in this corner of the market usually promise that the software will notice something and act on it. m18t does not do that, so this page does not say it. There are exactly these ways for work to begin, and you are standing at the start of all of them.

A moment

A moment you picked

A piece of content, its destinations, and one hour in the future. That is a scheduled publish, and it is the strongest thing on this page.

A frequency

A repeating time you wrote

A saved schedule running one of the built in pieces of work, over and over, at the frequency you gave it, on the clock of the brand it belongs to.

A press

A button you pressed

Publish now, or play on a schedule that was not due yet. It goes down the same path the clock would have sent it down.

There is no fourth. Nothing in m18t sits and watches your workspace for something to happen, so nothing here can surprise you with an action you did not ask for at an hour you did not choose. That is a smaller promise than the category usually makes, and it is the whole reason you can hand it a week of posts and stop thinking about them.

One send, end to end

What happens between Thursday afternoon and Tuesday morning.

One piece of content, three destinations, one hour in the future. This is the whole life of that instruction, including the part on Sunday night where you change your mind about a line.

  1. Thursday, 16:20

    You pick three destinations and one moment.

    Three separate instructions are written down, one for each destination, each carrying the moment you chose. The post is not copied into any of them. The piece keeps its own status, which stays yours to manage and starts nothing by itself.

  2. Thursday, 16:21

    The queue takes them and does nothing.

    Each instruction sits marked as queued against the hour you gave it. Holding it costs nothing, and changing your mind about it costs nothing either.

  3. Friday to Monday

    Every minute, the same question.

    Once a minute the platform asks this workspace what is due. Four days of nothing due is four days of that question answered no: no run recorded, no noise added, nothing for you to read.

  4. Sunday, 22:40

    You fix a line.

    Open the piece, change the words, save, and leave the schedule alone. There is no frozen copy in the queue to go stale, so there is nothing to reschedule and nothing to cancel and redo.

  5. Tuesday, 09:00

    The hour arrives.

    The first instruction is picked up, reads the piece as it stands at that second, resolves the caption and the pictures for that one destination, and sends. The brand's own stored credentials are opened for it, so the send does not need anybody signed in.

  6. Tuesday, 09:00

    Three sends, not one.

    Each destination is its own instruction. A refusal at one leaves the other two untouched, so two out of three going out is a real and legible outcome rather than a half finished job somebody has to unpick.

  7. Tuesday, 09:01

    It reports back to the piece.

    What went, where and at what time now sits on the content itself. A refusal sits there too, carrying the reason the far end gave, and it can be sent again from the same place.

The hour passed with nobody listening

A send that was never attempted, and whose moment is now further behind than a short grace period allows, is marked missed rather than going out late. A post for Friday morning does not surprise you on Saturday night. It stays on the piece, marked missed, and going out is a decision you get to make again.

The far end said no

A refused send is tried again after a short wait, then a longer one, then a longer one still. After that it stops on purpose rather than looping, and it stays on the piece with the reason it was given. It waits there for you rather than in your inbox, and one click sends it again.

You paused the brand for a month

Its scheduled work stops for as long as it is off, and its slots keep moving forward the whole time. Switch it back on and it starts from today. A month away does not come back as a month of posts arriving in one minute.

Where this sits

What schedules is wired to, and what each one does for it.

Schedules is not a place you spend time. It is the thing that lets you leave the other places, so every join here is a surface handing it work to hold.

Publishing

The destinations. A queued send resolves the same channel settings, the same overrides and the same credentials an immediate publish resolves, because it is the same path.

Read Publishing

Content

The piece the instruction reads at the moment it fires, and the place every attempt reports back to: sent, refused, missed, with the reason, and cancel for anything not gone yet.

Read Content

Emails

A newsletter is the biggest thing the queue carries. It fans out into one instruction per subscriber so the list paces itself against the same limits a single send obeys.

Read Emails

News

The one place you pick a frequency from a dropdown rather than writing one. Choosing how often your sources are read saves a real schedule behind the screen.

Read News

Brands

The clock itself. A brand carries the business hours its schedules are worked out against, and pausing a brand is what stops its scheduled work without losing it.

Read Brands

Yours to keep

Schedules is where you have to trust the platform while you are not watching.

Every one of these we would choose again.

Nothing starts on its own

Every start here is a time you set or a button you pressed. A workspace that only ever does what you told it, at the hour you told it, is a workspace you can leave alone without a knot in your stomach.

The last version is the version that goes out

Because nothing is frozen at schedule time, correcting a piece is just correcting a piece. You never have to remember which posts were already locked to an old draft.

Late is not an outcome

A missed hour is marked missed and left for you. The platform does not decide on your behalf that six hours late is close enough.

A pause is a pause

Switching a brand off costs you nothing on the way back in. There is no queue of a month's work waiting to punish you for taking a month.

Failure stops rather than loops

A refused send is tried a few times and then left alone with its reason, on the piece it belongs to. Nothing keeps hammering a destination that has said no.

Cancelling is honest about what it can do

Anything not yet gone can be cancelled outright. Anything already gone is already gone, and the product says so plainly instead of offering you a button that quietly does nothing.

Questions

Questions people ask about scheduling.

Because everything here is a clock or a button, and the word automation would send you looking for the part that watches your workspace and acts on what it sees. That part does not exist. What does exist is a queue holding real instructions and a platform asking every minute what is due. Naming the page after the clock means nothing on it has to be walked back later.

Keep reading

The surfaces on either side of this one.

Publishing

Where the queue delivers, and what each destination does with it.

Content

The piece a queued send reads at the moment it fires.

Emails

The biggest thing the queue carries, one instruction per subscriber.

Brands

The clock a schedule is worked out against, and the pause that stops it.

Start free. Bring your own agent.

Open the workspace, do one real piece of work in it, and the joins will show you the rest.