A deliberate retainer for B2B founders. Researched outreach, profile rebuilds, ghostwritten posts — done by hand, currently for four to six founders at a time.
LinkedIn was built for marketers. You're not a marketer. You're a founder selling engagements that close on trust, in conversations that take months to earn — and the platform, the tools that automate it, and the agencies that sell against it were designed for a different buyer than you.
Here's what that means in practice. The senior buyers you're trying to reach — the people who could actually sign a $25,000 engagement — don't decide on a single message. They get your outbound, click your profile, scan a recent post or two, and make a decision based on the whole picture. The market has split that picture into three separate problems: an outreach problem, a profile problem, a content problem. It sells them to you as three separate solutions. They were never three separate problems.
You've probably already tried something. A ghostwriting agency whose posts didn't sound like you. A fractional content marketer who wrote for an audience that wasn't actually your buyer. A sequencing tool that promised personalization and delivered template-with-name-inserted. The work stopped, quietly, and you went back to doing it yourself or not at all. That wasn't your failure. You correctly recognized that none of the options were built for the work you actually do.
What would have worked is one practice doing all three pieces — outreach, profile, posts — for one founder at a time, slowly, with enough research per prospect to earn the senior reply, and enough understanding of your voice to make the posts read as yours. That kind of LinkedIn doesn't scale. Which is the point.
The cost of not building this kind of LinkedIn is never a bill that arrives in the mail. It's the senior buyer who almost replied last quarter but didn't, because nothing in your profile gave them a reason to. It's the competitor your prospect heard from first, because you weren't visible in the months when the buying decision was forming. It's the six-month sales cycle that should have been two months, because trust hadn't been pre-built by the time you reached out.
Every quarter you leave this unaddressed is a quarter the compounding goes in the wrong direction. Senior buyers form their view of you from what's available — and right now, what's available is whoever showed up between your last LinkedIn post and your next outbound message. The question isn't whether to do this work. The question is what doing it well would actually look like, given the constraints of the work you actually have time for.
There's no business without sales. But sales for a founder selling on trust is a system — and a founder's time is better spent doing the work that closes the next high-value conversation than running that system day-to-day. The retainer is what runs underneath, so you don't have to think about it. Five steps, one practice, one big thing off your plate.
We start with a single scoping conversation. If you already have a target account list — names you've curated, accounts you've identified — we work from yours. If you don't, we build the persona together: the role, the company stage, the specific signals that mean someone is worth writing to this quarter. After this step, you don't have to think about who's getting outreach again.
From the persona or your list, we build the weekly target list ourselves. Not a CSV-dump of a thousand contacts that gets blasted through a sequencer — eight to twelve names a week, each one defensible in a conversation. The names we write to are the names we'd defend if you asked.
Your profile starts doing the job it was supposed to. Not looking impressive — winning the five seconds after a recipient clicks your name and decides whether the message in their inbox deserves a reply. We rewrite the headline, the about section, the experience, the work history — for what the next outbound message needs them to find. Once, in the first month, and then it holds.
Your recipient stops getting messages they've seen before. We read each prospect carefully: their last three posts, recent company moves, what they've said publicly that nobody quoted. Forum writes the message. Saurin reads every one before it goes out under your name. The result: outbound that couldn't have been sent to anyone else.
Your posts sound like you, because they are. Drafted from how you actually talk in conversations — not flattened into LinkedIn cadence — edited together, never published before you've read it. Every post, every message, every line on your profile reaches you for approval before it goes out under your name. Your reader should not be able to tell someone else helped.
You do step one with us. We do the rest. You read drafts before they publish. The five steps aren't the thing you're buying — what you're buying is a pipeline of senior conversations that runs while you do the work that pays for it.
This isn't an agency. It isn't a content factory. It isn't a tool that promises personalization at scale. There's no dashboard, no team of juniors learning on your account, no template library we recycle across clients. If what you need is volume — more messages, more impressions, more pipeline at any quality — this is the wrong place to look. The work here is built for founders whose engagements are large enough that a few quiet conversations a quarter would change the year. If yours aren't yet, we'll say so on the call.
Before the reading and writing begins, the prospects have to exist on a list someone built carefully. We build the list. From a brief on your ideal buyer — the role, the company stage, the specific signals that mean they're worth writing to this quarter — we find the names ourselves, week after week. The prospects we write to are the ones we'd defend in a conversation, not a CSV someone handed us.
From there, the reality of outreach is this: most "automation" describes a workflow, not an absence of labor. There's a stack of tools underneath — for finding prospects, enriching contact data, sending sequences — and someone has to write the templates, the variable maps, the fallback lines that fire when the personalization data is missing. When that labor is rushed, the output is generic. When the labor is generous, the output is still generic, because the labor was spent on the workflow, not on the prospect.
The message names their title, a recent post, the company they work for. The recipient pattern-matches it as automated within the first sentence. The reply rate is whatever LinkedIn's average is when the message is mostly ignored.
The message references something the recipient said publicly but nobody quoted. It connects that something to the founder's actual work in a way that wouldn't have made sense to send to anyone else. The recipient recognizes someone who actually read them. The reply rate is whatever it is when a senior buyer feels seen.
Thirty minutes is the floor. Sometimes a prospect needs more — a hard-to-find connection, a piece of context that's worth tracking down. It's never less, because less can't produce the work. We send eight to twelve messages a week per founder because that's what one person can write at this depth without flinching. The math is unforgiving in both directions.
Reply rates aren't promised in advertising and they shouldn't be. But you'll be able to tell, on the first reply you get, whether thirty minutes of research changes the response rate.
What this looks like at month three: a profile that reads as you wrote it, two posts a week landing in your network, eight to twelve researched messages reaching people whose names you'd recognize, and a small file of replies from senior buyers you'd otherwise have spent quarters trying to reach. The specific numbers vary. The shape of the work, three months in, is recognizable as outbound that produces conversations rather than noise.
The cheaper alternative is hiring someone in-house. Most founders who try it spend the first three months rewriting half the drafts, calculate their effective hourly rate, and quietly end the experiment. The retainer exists for founders who'd rather not become a manager of someone else's writing.
Think about what a logo wall actually does for you.
Your competitor visits the agency's site, sees your name, and now knows two things they didn't know before: who's helping you build pipeline, and that your pipeline is something you're building. They can guess at the scale. They can recruit your team. They can position against the angle you're using. In return, the agency gets a small thumbnail on a page that exists to attract their next prospect — at your expense.
There's a quieter version of the same problem. A senior buyer at your level doesn't get bragged about by their vendors. They aren't case studies. The moment the agency that's writing under your name treats your engagement as their marketing asset, the trust relationship inverts: they become the named entity, you become the proof point. We don't think this is a small thing.
So we don't publish client names. Not as a concession to confidentiality preferences — as the only honest posture for the work. The proof, today, is the writing on this page, the way Forum thinks about the work in public, and the first reply you'll see from the first message we send under your name. The work is the thing.
You won't find us in the press. The founders we work with don't want to be either.
Forum writes about the work itself — the small choices, the trade-offs, the texture of careful attention. No client names, no industry stories. Just method, as she'd describe it.
Take what's useful — whether you talk to us or not.
Tell him what you're working on, who you're trying to reach, and what's not landing. He'll read your message himself and reply within a working day. If there's a fit, the next step is a thirty-minute call — no deck, no pitch, just a conversation about whether the practice can do useful work for you. If there isn't a fit, he'll say so on the call and try to point you somewhere better. Forum joins the work once the engagement begins; the conversation about whether to engage is his.
Talk to Saurin →A few details, nothing more. He'll read your message himself and reply within a working day.