Content & Community Lead

Why this role exists

Brunchie is replacing the group-event spreadsheet. We're a tiny, highly efficient team, and we don't win attention by out-spending incumbents on ads — we win it by being the single most genuinely helpful voice in every room where someone is drowning in planning a wedding, a group trip, or a bachelor weekend.

We move fast and at volume. Every day, a steady stream of drafts comes your way — community replies and marketing roundups that each bundle an email, a community post, and a social thread — pre-scored so the strongest float to the top. Your job is to curate: approve what's genuinely ready, sharpen what's close, and cut what would embarrass us. A high score is a starting signal, not a decision — a draft can look great on paper and still be wrong for a real person's wedding-vent thread.

You own the human voice of Brunchie everywhere it touches a real person. You're the last line between a high-volume content pipeline and an audience that can smell marketing from a mile away. If a post reads like a brand doing outreach, it gets ignored — or worse. If it reads like the most genuinely helpful reply in the thread, people trust us and tell their friends. You own that gateway: the approve, the edit, and the cut.

The strategic reality. While the rest of the team is offline, your queue fills up. You wake up to a stack of drafts to curate. You triage: approve what's ready, surgically fix what's close, and cut what doesn't belong. You're not a copywriter waiting for a brief — you're the editor-in-chief of everything we publish.

What you will own

• Curate the queue. Approve, edit, or reject every community reply and every marketing roundup (email / post / thread) before it ships. A high score is your floor, not your verdict — you overrule it the moment something reads off-brand.
• Keep the voice human. Drafts lean on the same crutch phrases and invented personal backstory — a "here's my situation" opener on threads where centering yourself is exactly how you get spotted as inauthentic. You catch what a score misses.
• Run the Brunchie Discord. The server is home base and it's yours end to end: set the culture, write the rules, moderate, spin up channels and events, welcome every new member, and turn a room of strangers into the place hosts and organizers actually hang out, ask for help, and refer their friends. Growth, retention, and safety of the community are yours.
• Own lifecycle email. The marketing-roundup emails are the top of a real funnel. Onboarding, activation, re-engagement, and win-back are yours end to end. Every email earns its open and drives exactly one next action — and you own open rate, reply rate, unsubscribe rate, and sender reputation as a brand-protection problem, not an afterthought.
• Close the feedback loop. When a crutch phrase keeps showing up, you don't just rewrite it every single time — you flag the pattern so we can fix it at the source. A phrase in most drafts is a problem worth naming, not editing by hand for the fiftieth time.
• Own operational health. When something in the pipeline breaks quietly and the same errors show up night after night, you catch it, escalate it, and keep the queue honest — you don't let it silently dry up for two weeks.
• Handle high-intent engagement. When a thread goes hot or a reply chain turns into a real conversation, you step in fully to steer it — turning a helpful comment into an activated host, and a warm email reply into a booked event.

Who you are

• Culturally fluent online. You understand community platforms like Reddit and Discord in your bones. You know the difference between a corporate newsletter and an email people actually open, between a PR post and the most helpful comment in the thread. You spot "marketing language" from a mile away — even in a draft that scored well — and you naturally rewrite it into something human.
• Ruthlessly autonomous. Because of the time-zone gap with the rest of the team, you operate with near-zero hand-holding. If a thread turns volatile, a draft is tone-deaf on a sensitive post, or something breaks overnight, you make the call instantly rather than letting the queue stall for a day.
• Systems-obsessed. You see content, community, and email as data points moving through a funnel. You're not precious about your own writing and you're not fooled by a good score — you care about upvotes, reply rates, open rates, retention, and absolute quality control across hundreds of drafts a week.
• A strong, human writer in English. Your edits and originals have to read like a real, helpful person — because that's the entire product of this role.

Your first week

So the job is concrete, here's a real morning. Overnight, a handful of drafts landed in your queue to curate — community replies and one marketing roundup. Before the rest of the team is even online:

• Two are genuinely ready — a warm "congrats on the wedding" reply and a practical dress question. You approve and post them as-is.
• Three lean on the same invented backstory. One is sitting on a vendor-scam vent post, where centering yourself reads as inauthentic. You rewrite all three to lead with the original poster, not with Brunchie — and drop the reflex crutch phrase.
• One is tone-deaf — a cheerful, faintly salesy close on a thread that turned into someone grieving. You cut it outright; no rewrite saves it.
• Something's quietly broken. You notice the same errors have shown up for the ninth night running, and you escalate it before the queue silently dries up.
• You close the loop. By midday the queue is clear, you've flagged the repeated crutch phrase so it gets fixed at the source, and you've drafted this week's re-engagement email.

How to apply — the take-home challenge

We don't read generic resumes or cover letters. To apply, respond by curating one real item — the exact kind of draft you'd triage on day one.

The scenario: a community reply is waiting on a wedding-planning thread. The original poster is torn between two dresses for a June welcome party, on a tight budget. The draft opens warm and enthusiastic, then pivots to an invented personal backstory — "I'm months into planning my own wedding on a tight budget… my spreadsheet reminds me daily 😅" — before asking which dress felt more like them.

The draft scored well — one reviewer even flagged that the personal aside "feels slightly forced and centers your own experience more than necessary."

Your task: name the systemic tell this draft shares with nearly every other draft in the queue, explain why a good score does not mean "ship it," and rewrite the comment so it earns the reply — without the invented backstory or the reflex crutch phrase.

Send your answer to admin@brunchie.app. That's the interview.

About Brunchie

Brunchie is founded in Canada and fully remote. There is no office. We hire globally — the team works from wherever they live, in their own city and their own time zone. Canada is where the company is incorporated; it is not where you have to be. This role runs async, with a few overlapping hours with the team (Pacific Time / PST) so nothing sits stuck for a full day. Core features are free forever; premium unlocks wedding-scale coordination.