Set the page your way.Then write the book.

A page that works for you, not a template

Dyslexic writers often describe the same small frictions: lines that swim at a narrow spacing, long lines where the eye loses its place on the return, letters that flip in some typefaces and not others. What helps differs from person to person. Some writers swear by a particular font; others find spacing and line length matter more. The right answer is the one that works for you, so the studio should let you try.

Authrot’s manuscript fonts include an “Easier reading” group: OpenDyslexic, Atkinson Hyperlegible, Lexend, Verdana, Comic Sans MS and Century Gothic. The project’s page settings cover text size, line spacing, paragraph spacing, line length by characters or width, and margins, with a live preview as you change them. Try a shorter line and looser spacing before deciding a font doesn’t suit you: the three often work together.

• Light, dark or following your device, in three densities
• Reading mode: just the page, with Esc to leave
• The whole book on one scrolling page, with a chapter scrollbar

Your own view, without changing anyone else’s

Page settings belong to the project, so a co-author sees them too. If you write with someone who prefers a serif at a small size, you don’t have to fight over it. Personal view lets you set your own font, size and zoom, kept in your browser, so you can write in Lexend at a large size while your co-author keeps Garamond.

None of it is stored as formatting in the text. The manuscript stays clean, so your export comes out in the book’s own styling, not in the face you happened to draft in. Switch fonts as often as you like: on a tired evening, a different face can be the difference between ten minutes and an hour. Some writers draft in one face and revise in another, because a change of shape on the page makes familiar sentences look new, and errors that had become invisible stand out again.

Hearing the draft, not just seeing it

Reading your own work aloud is one of the oldest editing tricks there is, and for many dyslexic writers it is the most reliable one: the ear catches a missing word or a doubled one that the eye slides past. Authrot’s narration turns any chapter into speech, and while it plays the current paragraph is highlighted and the text follows it, so you can listen and look at once.

Play from any paragraph, change the speed, and step paragraph by paragraph. Narration uses the AI and shows its cost before it runs; edit two paragraphs afterwards and only those two are narrated again. The free prose stats also show the chapter’s read-aloud time and sentence lengths, so you can spot the overlong sentence before you hear it.

Listening doesn’t have to happen at the desk. The player has a sleep timer, lock-screen controls and a chapters list, and any chapter can be downloaded as an MP3. Plenty of writers find that a chapter heard on a walk shows its problems more clearly than one reread on screen: the scene that drags, the line of dialogue nobody would say, the paragraph that repeats the one before it.

Names that won’t sit still

A novel can carry dozens of invented names, and spelling an invented name the same way twenty chapters apart is hard for anyone. For a dyslexic writer, a character called Aldric in chapter two and Aldrick in chapter nine is an easy slip and a tedious one to hunt down. The story bible keeps each name’s spelling, aliases and every mention in one place.

Close-spelling search means a misremembered name still finds its entry: type “Ilza” and you get Ilsa. When a reading finds a near-duplicate entry, it’s caught and merged, and the references in your prose move with it. Rename an entry and the change runs through the whole text, with a preview first and an undo after.

• Link a name by typing [[ or selecting it, free and without the AI
• Find unlinked mentions in a chapter and link the ones you tick
• A cast check for names that start alike or look alike

Less to hold in your head at once

Working memory is a limited desk for everyone, and a novel piles a lot on it. Authrot puts the facts somewhere you can look them up instead. When a chapter opens, its brief shows what’s fixed, what’s true right now and what you planned. Each character’s entry shows their traits, the facts anchored to them, and where they last appeared.

Project search (Ctrl/⌘+K) finds a chapter, a note or an entry by name. Chapter plans keep the moments a chapter needs as a checklist you can tick, so you don’t have to remember the plan while you write it. And when the AI is on, the assistant can answer “where did I mention the key?” by reading your chapters, rather than you searching by eye.

Small things add up over a long book. Chapter titles are edited in place on the page. Keyboard shortcuts cover search, saving and switching between Write and Plan, and fold the side panels away when you want only the text. Ctrl/⌘+S saves a named version, so you can make a bold change knowing the old one is a click away in History.

What Authrot isn’t

It is worth being plain about the limits. Authrot is a writing studio, not an assistive-technology product, and it makes no claim to treat or correct dyslexia. It has no grammar checker. The features on this page are choices about how the page looks and sounds, and tools for keeping a long book straight, which many writers with and without dyslexia find helpful.

If you publish chapters for readers, they get the same kind of choice. The reading page offers a typeface menu with Atkinson Hyperlegible, OpenDyslexic and Lexend among its options, plus size, line spacing, paragraph spacing, line length, margins, and light, sepia or dark. If you’ve narrated the chapter, readers can listen with the paragraph highlighted as it plays.