Wcharacters.docx
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Where stories find their shape.
Every book begins as a constellation of ideas — characters, places, moments, connections — scattered across your mind. Unbind is where they find each other.
Wait List Open · Early Access 2026
We'll write when there's something worth saying.
§ The Gap
Your world is alive in your head — but broken across tools.
Characters with histories. Places with textures. Timelines that fold and diverge. They used to live in different tabs, different apps, different notebooks. Now they live in one place — and it sees how they connect.
Your next book is not stuck. It's tied up.
— Unbind the writer. Unbind the world.
Your draft has been holding its breath.
Time to let it out.
§ The Answer
Everything you need, from the first scattered idea to the last published page.
Consider this the table of contents.
01 / 07 The Connected Canvas
See your world before you write it.
Late in the draft, you reach for a detail — what the harbor smelled like the night she arrived — and it is gone. You search three apps and lose an hour. The canvas is where that stops. Put a character down. Put a place beside her. Draw what they are to each other. The world holds its shape while you write into it, and tomorrow it is exactly where you left it.
The book remembers, so you do not have to.
Canvas — Aelin's Harbor
Aelin Vance
Saltwhistle Harbor
The Arrival
Ch. 1 — Arrival
02 / 07 Every View, One Source of Truth
One world. Every angle.
You think spatially on Sunday, in chapters on Monday, in dates on Tuesday, in arcs on Wednesday. Most weeks, that means four different files quietly drifting out of sync. Here, the same world holds still while you walk around it. Open the manuscript and the cards rearrange into chapters. Open the timeline and they line up by date.
Nothing is copied. Nothing forks.
Ch. 1 — Arrival
Aelin Vance
Harbor
Chapter One — Arrival
236 ◊ Saltwhistle
The harbor was holding its breath when Aelin Vance stepped down from the gangplank, salt cracking under her boots.
She had not expected to recognize the lamp at the lighthouse — and yet there it was, the same crooked seam in the glass, the same bruised glow.
Eight years. Long enough for a town to forget. Not, she suspected, long enough for it to forgive.
Mon · 09:14 · about Aelin
The brother's name
Maybe Cael, after the grandfather. Check the dates against the harbor fire.
Tue · 22:41
Saltwhistle weather
Storm rolls in from the north. Lighthouse goes dark before the Pact, not after.
Wed · 06:50 · about Aelin
Opening line draft
"She had not expected to recognize the harbor — and yet."
Aelin
Cael
Harbor
Ch. 1
Arrival
First sight
Ch. 2
The Storm
Warning
Ch. 3
The Pact
Reveal
Vault
Salt Vault The Keep Lighthouse
Year One
03 / 07 Lore-Aware Writing
The world is in the page.
You are mid-sentence and you need her brother's name. You alt-tab. The wiki loads. The browser eats your cursor. By the time you are back, the sentence has gone cold. Here, you type @ and her brother surfaces in the line itself — the room beside it, the year she met him, all a glance away, none of it asking you to leave the prose.
The sentence finishes itself.
Chapter Three — The Pact
She never thought she'd see Aelin again, much less in Saltwhistle Harbor, the year after her brother @Marek
M
Marek Vance
Aelin's elder brother · vintner
Saltwhistle Ch. 1 14 mentions
Other matches
Marek Vance char
Mira Brennan char
Marsh of Mire place
04 / 07 Editing & Revision Workflow
Drafts that remember every decision.
You rewrote the opening. Then you rewrote it again. Then you wished you had the first one back. Every version of every chapter is kept by name, and the differences between them are visible at a glance — what you cut, what you saved, what you tried before you knew better.
Revision stops being a wager.
Ch. 1 — Arrival · history
v3 → v7 · inline
The harbor was quiet that night holding its breath, and Aelin walked slowly without hurrying toward the lamp — its glass cracked, its light still kind.
She did not call her brother's name. Not yet. She had practiced not calling it for eight years; one more night was nothing.
05 / 07 Writer's Compass
A finishing companion for the long road.
Most manuscripts die quietly, in the months between the third chapter and the first abandonment. The Compass is the panel that quietly fixes that. It sees the words you wrote on Tuesday whether you noticed or not. No badges. No streaks that turn writing into a chore.
Just the honest mirror, and the gentle nudge to come back tomorrow.
Compass — Saltwhistle
66%
Drafting
~80,000 words. At your current pace, the finish line is in sight — about ten weeks out.
MonTueWedThuFriSatToday
Target Apr 15 10 weeks out
Words / Day 730 Steady novel pace
Tomorrow Thirty minutes. The harbor scene needs an exit.
06 / 07 All the way to the printer
From idea to published Book.
The draft is done. Now begins the part nobody warned you about — the part with margins and bleed and ISBNs and a different file format for every store. The book you have been writing already knows it is going to be a book. It paginates itself the way printers expect. It checks the small things that get covers rejected — before you upload.
The last mile stops being a wall.
Pipeline — Saltwhistle
Print layout eBook layout
01
Page Layout
Trim Size
5.5" × 8.5"
02
Typography
Heading Font
Playfair Display (theme default)
Font Size 11pt
07 / 07 Yours, Forever
Works without us.
You have lost work to a vendor before. Maybe a service shut down. Maybe a subscription lapsed and the lock came down. Maybe the internet just blinked at the wrong moment. Here, the book lives on your machine first. Editing on a flight, on a train, in a cabin with one bar of signal — same book, no warning bar, no anxious reload.
Your world belongs to you, regardless of our weather.
Saltwhistle.book
.epub .docx .md .json disk
Saved locally · 12s ago
"Works without us."
§ Who it's for
Whatever you're writing, this is your desk.
The tool that bends for the novelist also bends for the dungeon master. Same canvas. Different shape of story.
The Novelist
Three years of notes, one chapter that won’t end. The world is already alive in your head — the harbor, the half-sister, the year nobody talks about. Reach for any of it, mid-sentence.
- @mentions Type @ mid-sentence; the character slides in beside the prose.
- Writer’s Compass Pulse, pace-to-finish, daily word goal — one rail to the end.
- Chapter versioning Up to 20 named drafts; see the line you almost cut.
- Ready to publish Validated EPUB, PDF/X-1a, DOCX — the file you upload is ours.
- Yours to take with you Offline-first; export JSON or Markdown any time.
The Memoirist
Your aunt’s kitchen is a setting; your father’s silence, a chapter. Lay them out — the people, the years, the rooms — and draw the line that always ran between them, the one you couldn’t name out loud.
- A card for every person Seven element types stand in for the people of your life.
- Named connections Mother of, married to, estranged from — name it with a verb.
- Timeline by date Pull a year forward and read what happened, in order.
- Inline margin comments Editorial, todo, question — write to yourself inside the file.
- On your device, first Your file lives on your machine before it lives anywhere else.
The Worldbuilder
Six notebooks of lore, a few hard drives, a wiki you stopped updating — and still no book. Pin the cities, name the wars, draw the river the language crosses, once.
- Built for whole worlds Character, location, event, chapter, lore, note, group — domain-specific.
- Connections with meaning Directional edges, inverse labels, per-type styles. Custom when eleven isn’t enough.
- How any two connect The shortest narrative line between any two entities — the dramatic chain.
- Four lenses on one world Canvas, manuscript, timeline, relationship map — same data, one click.
- Custom fields & tags Shape entities to your system, not the other way around.
The Game Master
Tuesday night. Six players around the table, and someone asks the NPC’s daughter’s name — the kind of detail that lives in the world you brought in your pocket.
- Offline on the phone No signal at the table, no spinner — the NPC card opens.
- Anything in a tap One-thumb access to any character, location, or piece of lore.
- PDF handouts Character cards, lore sheets, location maps printed for the table.
- Owner / Editor / Viewer Share read-only with players; keep GM-only notes hidden.
- Custom relationship types “Owes a debt to,” “sworn to” — your campaign’s grammar.
The Screenwriter
A series bible that doesn’t live in seventeen Google Docs — ensemble casts, episode arcs, continuity across seasons, the things a writers’ room remembers out loud and forgets in writing.
- @mentions in script The ensemble walks in with arcs — bidirectional, tracked everywhere.
- Versioning per scene Up to 20 named drafts; see exactly what the room changed.
- Categorized comments Editorial, continuity, todo, question — the room writes back inline.
- Relationship map view Character webs across seasons, auto-laid out — bible as a map.
- Roles for the room Owner / Editor / Viewer; DOCX out to production.
The Fan-fic Writer
Canon in one hand, headcanon in the other — you write on a train, on a phone, on a tab the school computer hasn’t blocked yet. The world is yours, and only yours, until you say otherwise.
- Saves to your device Phone, tab, Chromebook — the chapter is on your machine.
- Daily goal + chapter pace The rhythm a serial that runs forty installments actually needs.
- Export Markdown or HTML Post to AO3, Wattpad, your site — your platform, your call.
- Your license, your choice Creative Commons (CC0 → CC-BY-NC-SA); fork others with attribution.
- Free tier forever No platform owns the world you built.
That was the shortlist. Turn the page — the full kit follows.
§ The Companions
On every desk. In every pocket.
Native apps for iPhone, iPad, and Mac — so the world you've built travels with you.
Coming soon. Not yet available.
§ The Arc
From the first scattered idea to the printed book.
Five surfaces. Enter at any one. Most writers live in two or three. The arc is yours to draw.
Some authors plan everything. Some plan nothing. Most do both, in their own order.
-
Capture
Connected CanvasCards for the things in your story. A character. A place. A thread.
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Connect
Views & LoreDraw threads between anything. Walk the world from every angle.
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Compose
Lore-Aware WritingA clean page. If a canvas exists, it surfaces. If not, just write.
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Coach
Writer's CompassA daily pace. A quiet rhythm. A finish line, whenever you set one.
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Close
Print & ExportPre-flight, pagination, the file you can ship — wherever you started.
§ Join the Wait List
The world needs to know your next story.
We'll write when there's something worth saying.
§ FAQ
Your questions, answered.
What is Unbind?
Unbind is a visual canvas for long-form writers — novelists, memoirists, essayists, screenwriters, poets, and worldbuilders. Plan characters, locations, events, chapters, and lore as connected elements on an infinite canvas, then export the result as a manuscript ready for publishing.
Who is Unbind for?
Long-form authors — novelists, memoirists, essayists, screenwriters, poets, and worldbuilders — who need to keep track of how characters, places, events, and ideas connect across a long project. If you have written a 60,000-word draft and lost track of a thread, Unbind is for you.
Is Unbind available today?
Unbind is in early access in 2026 and admitting authors in small cohorts. Join the waitlist at unbind.page/join — confirmed referrals move you up the line.
How much does Unbind cost?
Unbind has a free tier that covers personal worldbuilding, and paid tiers for authors who need more projects, more storage, or AI assistance. See unbind.page/pricing for current plans and prices.
What platforms does Unbind run on?
Unbind runs in any modern web browser today, with desktop apps for macOS and Windows. Native apps for iPhone and iPad are on the roadmap for 2026; until they ship, the web canvas works on tablets and phones in the browser.
Does Unbind work offline?
Yes. Unbind is offline-first — your work lives locally and syncs to the cloud when you are online. Lose Wi-Fi mid-sentence and nothing is lost. The desktop app stores your data encrypted on disk using your operating system's keychain.
Can I import a manuscript from Scrivener, Notion, or Obsidian?
Yes. Unbind has a built-in importer that takes a long manuscript in Word (.docx), EPUB, or Markdown, detects chapter breaks, lets you preview and adjust the splits, and lands every chapter on your canvas as an element. Scrivener, Notion, Obsidian, and Google Docs all export to one of those formats.
Does Unbind use AI to write for me?
No. Unbind builds for the writer, not in place of them. AI inside Unbind helps with the work of remembering — checking continuity across chapters, surfacing lost notes, finding the thread you misplaced — never with replacing the page. The voice is yours. See the manifesto at unbind.page/manifesto .
Can I collaborate with an editor or co-author?
Not yet. Unbind today is a single-author workspace; live co-authoring and shared editing are on the roadmap. You can export drafts to PDF or EPUB to share with editors and beta readers in the meantime.
How is Unbind different from Scrivener or World Anvil?
Unbind is one place for both the world and the manuscript. Scrivener drafts well but has no visual graph; World Anvil and Campfire model worlds but do not compile to a print-ready book. Unbind unifies the visual canvas, author-specific entity types, relationship mapping, and manuscript export in a single offline-first product.
Is my work private?
Yes. Your projects are private by default, served over TLS, and never sold or shared. The desktop app encrypts local data using your operating system's keychain.
Can I export my book?
Yes. Unbind exports complete manuscripts to PDF and EPUB with print-ready presets for KDP and IngramSpark, plus per-element exports for individual characters, locations, events, chapters, and lore. Your project data is portable.