I Tried Dozens of Writing Apps and I Use Next to None of Them
A writer's folly
There are an endless number of programs and apps designed to help writers with the craft, with a new one appearing on the scene seemingly every week. They all have their own merits, usually tailored to a specific type of writer. Need to build a habit? 4thewords. Want Word but not Microsoft? LibreWriter. Need something so robust and feature-rich that it's almost its own operating system? Scrivener.
Over the last 10 years of taking writing seriously, I feel like I've tried them all. I got Scrivener at a discount in 2017 after completing NaNoWriMo, and while I still occasionally fire it up, it doesn't vibe with my workflow. I tried Bibisco, Campfire, Novlr, Plottr, Dabble, Motif, Autocrit, and countless others, and found that most of them just aren't worthwhile for me. I've only added two tools to my workflow: ProWritingAid and Ellipsus.
ProWritingAid has been incredibly useful in terms of grammar, sentence structure, and clarity. It's like a spelling and grammar checker on steroids. It's made me improve my writing even when I'm not using it. Aside from the basics, ProWritingAid has taken up a lot of the features left from the demise of NaNoWriMo. They have a growing number of community features, classes, word sprints, and contests. These features alone worth the price of admission.
Now, if you're completely against any form of AI, you're probably not going to want to use this one. As it is now, they don't train on users' work (but don't specify what they are training on) and the AI is primarily analytical rather than generative. That said, it's worth taking with a grain of salt. I don't use the generative features myself.
If you're against AI entirely, good news: so are the folks behind Ellipsus. This is a newer writing platform with a strong anti-AI stance, designed to be the Google Docs killer. It's simple, but includes templates and robust collaborative tools to share and create with others. The extensive set of available themes is also a nice touch.
I still use Google Docs out of ease and habit. Honestly, the only thing keeping me from switching from Google Docs to Ellipsus entirely is the lack of a chapter feature. (It has an outline feature that semi-works as chapters, but not as well as I'd like. Docs has tabs that I've been using to organize my chapters.) My trust in big tech is completely gone, and I'd like to be less reliant on Google services. Ellipsus has a list of feature requests, and they seem to be very active and committed to creating a great Docs alternative.
I'll still always use pen and paper. Writing by hand feels much more deliberate, and I have to think through what I'm writing. I feel like some of my best scenes and thoughts come out when I'm using something tangible. I also much prefer any world-building or outlining to be on paper; it makes it easier for me to keep track of in my brain when I have to physically map out each and every letter.
So why did I think I needed anything more?
I wrote my first novel in 2017 in Google Docs and spiral notebooks. Because it's complete garbage, this novel will never see the light of day, but I'm very proud of what I accomplished. While working on my current novel, I went back and reread it. I realized how much I managed and how well I did in maintaining a chaotic world while using simple tools. That was when I recognized I was being absolutely ridiculous.
I felt like I had to use a fancy program or method to call myself a Real Writer. I needed to be organized and have a complete system with structured guidance, when I have literally never been that type of person. I'm a discovery writer/pantser, and it's obvious to anyone who knows me, but I was convinced that I needed to be something else in order to be taken seriously. I spent more time trying to find the "perfect" program to write in instead of just writing. I wasted hours researching and trying to appeal to an imaginary ideal, when I could have been creating instead.
I don't need a thousand programs with frills and features I'll never touch. I just need me.
About the Creator
Tina H
Aspiring writer, active human disaster. Buy me a Kofi: https://ko-fi.com/tinahwrites
Side Quest Goal Achieved: Placing an Alien Claim
This is a post that has me quite ecstatic. It's funny, I thought it was going to be one of my usual, "Hey, I achieved another one of my goals and checked it off" type deals. And it sort of is. But it sort of isn't. And it's also one of my greatest writing accomplishments of late.
By Stephen Kramer Avitabile5 days ago in Writers
The Friend Who Stayed
JAli and Hamza had been friends for as long as anyone could remember. They grew up in the same street, went to the same school, and shared everything from lunch boxes to secrets. Their bond was simple, honest, and unbreakable. People often said that if you saw one of them, the other wouldn’t be far behind. As children, their world was small but full of joy. They played cricket in the narrow street until the sun disappeared. They laughed over the smallest things. And every evening, they would sit on the rooftop, dreaming about their future. “We’ll be successful together,” Hamza would say with confidence. Ali would smile and nod. “Always together.” But life, as it often does, had its own plans. As the years passed, things began to change. Hamza was brilliant in studies. He got admission into a prestigious university in the city. It was a big opportunity, one that could change his life forever. Everyone in the neighborhood celebrated his success. Ali, on the other hand, couldn’t continue his studies. His father fell ill, and the responsibility of the house came onto his shoulders. He started working at a small shop nearby, leaving his dreams behind. The day Hamza left for the city was emotional. “I’ll come back soon,” Hamza said, hugging Ali tightly. Ali smiled, hiding his sadness. “Don’t forget me.” “Never,” Hamza replied. At first, everything remained the same. They talked on the phone almost every day. Hamza would share stories about his new life, his classes, and the city’s bright lights. Ali would listen quietly, happy for his friend. But slowly, the calls became less frequent. Days turned into weeks. Weeks turned into months. Hamza got busy with his new life. New friends, new experiences, new dreams. Without realizing it, he started drifting away from the past. Ali never complained. He still waited for Hamza’s calls. Sometimes he would pick up his phone, dial his number, and then stop, thinking, “He must be busy.” Time moved on. Years later, Hamza became successful. He had a good job, a comfortable life, and everything he once dreamed of. But somewhere deep inside, something always felt missing. One day, while cleaning his apartment, he found an old photograph. It was of him and Ali, standing in their street, covered in dust after a long cricket match, smiling without any worries. Hamza stared at the picture for a long time. Memories came rushing back. The laughter. The promises. The friendship. And suddenly, he realized what was missing. Without wasting another moment, he decided to go back home. The journey felt longer than usual. His heart was filled with a mix of excitement and guilt. He kept thinking about Ali. Would he still be the same? Would he forgive him? When Hamza reached the old street, everything looked familiar, yet different. The houses were the same, but time had left its marks. He walked slowly toward Ali’s house. His hands felt cold. He knocked on the door. After a few seconds, the door opened. It was Ali. For a moment, both of them just stared at each other. Years of silence stood between them. Then Ali smiled. A simple, warm smile, just like before. “Hamza?” he said softly. Hamza felt his throat tighten. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. Ali shook his head gently. “You’re late,” he said, “but you’re here.” That was enough. No complaints. No questions. No anger. Just acceptance. They sat together for hours, talking like nothing had changed. Ali told him about his life, his struggles, and how he managed everything. Hamza listened quietly, feeling both proud and ashamed. “You did all this alone?” Hamza asked. Ali smiled. “Not alone. I had your memories.” Those words hit deeply. Hamza realized that while he moved forward in life, Ali had carried their friendship in his heart all along. Before leaving, Hamza made a promise. “This time, I won’t disappear,” he said. Ali laughed softly. “You better not.” As Hamza walked away that evening, he felt lighter. Success had given him many things, but it had also taken something important away. Now, he had found it again. Because true friendship doesn’t end with distance. It doesn’t fade with time. And it doesn’t break with silence. It simply waits. For the right moment. For the right return. And when that moment comes, it feels as if nothing was ever lost.
By Salman khan7 days ago in Writers
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