A room opens automatically when you book a creator. It's the shared workspace for that booking: versions, notes, verdicts and the invoice, in one place.
What it's designed to remove is a specific and expensive category of friction: arguing about facts. Which version, which round, what was said, what was approved.
What it can't remove is giving good notes. That's still yours.
Who's in it
Party-gated: you, as the brand who owns the booking, and the creator who was booked. Nobody else on either side.
That's worth knowing because it means the room is private working space, not a share link. Working cuts and candid notes can live there.
Versions, not attachments
The creator submits deliverables as versions (v1, v2, v3), and each is preserved.
Three consequences, and they're the value:
A note stays attached to the version it was written against. Your comment on v2 doesn't float free and become ambiguous when v3 arrives.
"Which one are you looking at?" stops being a question. It's the single most common source of a wasted review round.
Nothing is overwritten. When someone says "actually the previous one was better" (and someone will), it's still there.
Comments land on a frame
A comment can pin a timecode, so notes attach to the moment rather than describing it.
This is the mechanical fix for the worst kind of feedback. "The bit near the end where the music changes" costs an editor ten minutes of scrubbing and a coin flip on which bit you meant. "At 1:12" costs nothing and is unambiguous.
You don't need frame accuracy: 1:12 is plenty. The discipline that pays is quoting a time at all. Timecode feedback covers the conventions, and it's short enough to send to a colleague who's giving vague notes.
The verdict is one-shot
Your verdict is brand-only and can be given once per round.
That constraint exists to make "we're on round two" a fact in the system rather than a claim in an email thread. That is the fact most likely to be disputed at the point it costs money. It protects both sides equally.
If your agreement says two rounds, the room is the record of whether you've used them.
The part the room can't do for you
Three rules, from giving feedback without destroying the edit, and no tool substitutes for any of them:
Notes against the brief, not against your taste. "This doesn't hit the message in section four" is actionable. "I don't love it" costs the editor a day of guessing. If a note is preference rather than objective (which is legitimate), label it as preference.
The right notes at the right stage. On a rough cut, talk about structure, order, length and what's missing. Not colour, typography or mix: that work hasn't happened, and giving the note now means giving it again later. A rough cut is supposed to look unfinished.
One voice. Consolidate. One document, one sender, contradictions already resolved. An editor handed seven independent opinions has been given your internal disagreement to arbitrate, and they have no standing to do it.
That last one is the rule people resist most, because it means someone has to decide. The room will happily accept comments from several people; it can't tell the editor which of two contradictory ones wins.
Say what's working
Not out of politeness. An editor with no positive signal has no idea what's load-bearing, and the next version may well "fix" the thing you liked.
"The cold open is exactly right, don't touch it" removes a whole area from the search space. It's one of the most useful sentences in a review.
Invoices and rating
The invoice for the booking sits in the same room. When the creator moves it from draft to sent, you get an email with the print link.
Be clear on what that is: Acumin records the invoice, it doesn't process payment. You pay the creator directly, however you already pay suppliers. Marking it paid is a bookkeeping acknowledgement.
Once the work is delivered and paid, you rate it on quality, communication and timeliness. That rating is the only thing that moves a creator's Acumin Score, and it exists only because a real booking completed. Which is what makes those scores worth something when you're shortlisting next time.
Rate honestly, including the middling ones. A network where everyone rates five stars carries no information, and you're the one who'll need it to work next quarter.
How to use this tomorrow
On your next review, put a timecode in front of every single note, in ascending order.
Nothing else has to change. The next version will come back closer to right the first time.
Related: Giving feedback without destroying the edit is the substance. Posting a brief to the Creator Network is how you got here.