TypeSlate

I sat down to write one day during my lunch break. I have a very limited window of time to create. I opened Chrome and—bam—half an hour passed. Lunch was over, and I never even found the Google Doc I meant to write in. By the time I realized, I had checked my emails, my KDP royalties, my Medium account, my Substack notifications, and my Google Search Console. My break was gone. I said to myself, “I wish I could brick my computer and turn it into a true blank page to write on.” That’s how TypeSlate was born. When I started, I knew nothing about coding. I had a vision for the program I wanted, and I knew what features it should have. That vision sent me on a long road: learning how to write Python, how to collaborate with AIs to build and refine code, and how to manage files, libraries, and databases. Every morning, I opened the latest version of my blank page and hurled thousands of words at it. The catharsis of simplicity guided the entire build. It became my first principle. Every time I added a feature, I’d stop and use the program to write—real writing, not just testing. Over the past six months, I’ve written over 100,000 words in TypeSlate. Likely more, since I didn’t start tracking word counts until a month or two in. I didn’t add backup support until the fourth month. And now here it is: my writing program. I’m very proud of it. It’s minimal in all the right ways, and it includes features I’ve never seen anywhere else. I’m honored you’re here reading this, and I’d be even more honored if you gave TypeSlate a try for 30 days. If you don’t see the value, I completely understand if you choose not to continue. I hate monthly subscriptions. The last thing I wanted was to nickel and dime other writers. That’s why TypeSlate is a one-time payment. You’ll get the program—and all future updates—forever.