For iPhone, iPad and Mac
Notes for catching a thought, pages for real writing, and now a whole book. There's no account to make, and your writing stays on your device.
Every evening at six, Mara climbed the ninety-one steps with a tin of oil and a notebook. The light did not need her. It had been automatic for eleven years. She went anyway.
From the gallery she could see the whole curve of the bay: the harbour lights coming on one by one, the ferry drawing its slow white line towards the mainland
1,204 words · 5 minNotes & Pages
A note is a thing you write before you know what it is. A page is what happens once you do.
Monospaced and ready the moment you open them. For ferry times, roof repairs, or half a sentence about a letter.
For real writing, with headings, an outline to jump through, images and tables.
This started as a note and outgrew it, which is the only real difference between the two halves.
The first section was written on a ferry, badly, with a phone balanced on a rucksack.
Stamps
Every day there's a free pack to tear open. Inside is one stamp, from common to mythic, and a prompt to write from.
CommonFirst NibFor the first word of anything.
RarePeacock QuillToo fine to write with, and used anyway.
UniqueThe EndWritten at last, at the foot of the page.
LegendaryThe Tall ShipUnder full sail, and a long way out.
MythicThe PhoenixFor the draft that rose out of an old one.Sell your repeats for coins, and spend coins on more packs. Coins can't be bought. Your stamps and coins follow you through iCloud.
Private by design
There's nothing to sign in to. Just open the app and write.
No email, no password, no sign-up. The first screen is your writing.
Your writing leaves your device only if you share a draft or turn on sync, and either way it's encrypted on your device first.
No ads and no tracking.
Export a page, or your whole library, whenever you like. That stays free.
On the Mac
A real menu bar, and the shortcuts you'd expect. One Nib Plus subscription covers your iPhone, iPad and Mac.
Every evening at six, Mara climbed the ninety-one steps with a tin of oil and a notebook. The light did not need her. It had been automatic for eleven years.
From the gallery she could see the whole curve of the bay: the harbour lights coming on one by one.
Available for iPhone, iPad and Mac. Questions? Email support@nibprivacy.com
Nib