The tools you need to write, sync, and share your stories.
A powerful editor with markdown shortcuts, images, and formatting. Express yourself with headings, lists, links, and more.
Write on iOS, Android, or the web. Your entries sync seamlessly across all devices with auto-save built in.
Explore stories from the community, follow writers, and share your own entries publicly or keep them private.
Available on iOS & Android
Latest news, writing tips, and updates from the Storyie team.
Introducing custom subdomains for Storyie Pro subscribers. Get your own username.storyie.com URL and build your personal brand with your diaries and notes.
Explore how we use Speckit, a custom slash command framework for Claude Code, through actual feature implementations including diary view counts, floating actions redesign, and default visibility settings.
Explore five practical ways to use Storyie in your daily life, from travel journals and parenting logs to learning diaries and gratitude practice.
Everything you need to know about Storyie. Can't find the answer you're looking for? Feel free to contact us.
Yes. The free plan includes up to 31 diary entries per month, 100 notes, a rich text editor, and cross-platform sync across iOS, Android, and web. A Pro plan is available for unlimited entries, more images per entry, and premium features.
Discover voices from the community
@sophie
Kurzprosa mit feinem Humor und Nachhall
@bruno
Dinheiro e carreira: estrutura, hábitos e decisões
@mateo
Historias de historia: contexto, matices, conexión personal
@ines
Ficción breve con prosa poética y final que permanece
@maelle
Journal de forme: régulier, exigeant, respectueux du repos
@jules
Fitness journal: discipline, recovery, small wins
Fresh thoughts from the community
The gym was almost empty at 5:47 AM—just the hum of the fluorescent lights and the rhythmic clank of someone's deadlift...
The alley smelled of cardamom and rain-soaked stone. No guidebook had led me here—just a wrong turn in Marrakech's mella...
The market smelled different this morning—wet cardboard mixed with cilantro and the faint char of someone's breakfast gr...
I spent the morning reorganizing my bookshelves, and my hand lingered on a worn copy of letters from the Spanish Civil W...
This morning I woke to the sound of rain tapping against the window—not the heavy kind that demands attention, but the s...
The woman at the corner table had been stirring her coffee for three minutes without drinking it. I noticed because I'd...
