Bindery ships new features most weeks. This page lists every one — 48 so far — dated and newest first, each with a plain description of what it does. The same list appears inside the studio, under What’s new. Last updated 15 October 2026.
The new Review button sits beside the model under the message box (or type /proofread). It opens on a free scan of your whole manuscript, no credits: the typos it can be sure of (“the the”, “recieve”, a space before a comma), which it fixes for free in one click behind a restore point; words spelled two ways in one book (color and colour); names spelled two ways (Jonathan and Jonathon); your reading level, chapter by chapter, with the longest sentences and the phrases the book leans on; and the dates, figures, quotations and Bible references a fact-check would verify. Then one click asks your editor for the real thing: a full proofread in your chosen house spelling — American, British, Canadian or Australian — a consistency and continuity check that keeps a style sheet of every name, age and date, a fact-check against sources on the web (Bible verses against the translation your book uses), or a smoothing of the densest passages. Each button shows what it will cost before anything runs, the pass works in the chat where you can watch it, and Rewind undoes it in one step. Ordering a printed copy? The Order dialog now names any typo the scan found before it goes to paper.
The advisor — a stronger model that reads your whole conversation and tells your editor what to do at the big moments — now has its own button, right beside the model under the message box. It always says what it’s doing: which model is advising, off, or reading your book right now. One tap opens everything: what it does, in your own book’s model names; a switch; Opus or Fable; what it has done on this book and what that cost; and “Get a second opinion”, which asks it right away (type a question first and that becomes the question). It’s on by default with Bindery Pro, and the choice you make carries to your next books. Writing with Fable? Nothing sits above the strongest model to ask, so the button says so — and offers the setup that does use an advisor: Sonnet writes, Fable advises, at a fraction of the credits per reply. And the advisor’s cards in the chat now show the opening of its advice, without a click.
Ask “Find pictures for my book” (or type /pictures) and the editor researches real pictures for what your chapters are actually about — historical photographs, maps, paintings, engravings, botanical and scientific plates, portraits — from Wikimedia Commons and the open collections of museums, libraries and archives. It only uses pictures a printed, sold book may carry: public domain, CC0, or Creative Commons licences that allow commercial use. It looks at every candidate before choosing, sets each picture beside the passage it belongs to, sized for print and captioned in your book’s voice, and writes a Picture Credits page that stays in step as pictures come and go. It starts with the two or three pictures that will do the most, shows you those pages, then tells you its plan for the rest. Your own photos are still the best picture for anything personal — drop them in the chat and the editor places them too.
The advisor — Opus reading your whole conversation and handing your editor the plan before the real writing — used to live on one book at a time, so every new book quietly started without it. Now it follows you: with Bindery Pro it’s on by default on your Haiku and Sonnet books, the choice you make on any book carries to your next ones, and turning it off is one tap, right under the message box. It also speaks up when it should — before a new chapter, a restructure or a design change, not just once at the start — and every consult card shows what it cost. Writing on the free plan? The first real judgment call your editor meets gets one consult on the house, so you can read exactly what it adds.
The Haiku tier — the one every book can start on, free — now writes with Claude Haiku 5.5, Anthropic’s newest Haiku, released this week. It thinks before it answers when a request calls for it, and it holds five times more of your conversation (a million tokens, up from 200,000), so a long working session goes much further before the chat needs a fresh start. A reply costs about the credits it did before. Pick it per book from the composer or ⌘K.
The left panel used to list your book’s files, so a click on a chapter swapped the whole-book proof for one file’s raw text — and many authors never found the way back, or learned they could edit there at all. It now reads like the front of a book: “Whole book” on top, then every chapter by its real title, in the order it prints, with the page it starts on. Click a chapter and the proof turns to it, with the whole book still on screen; on the Source tab the same click opens that chapter’s words, and the pencil beside a chapter opens them from anywhere. Under the proof, “Edit text” (or a double-click on any paragraph) opens exactly the words on that page — type your change, press Save & compose, and the proof comes back on the page you just changed. In Source, the chapter’s title at the top lists every chapter, ‹ › step chapter by chapter, and “See in proof” takes you back to the page. Your files are still there, folded under Files.
The new Magazine design (Add a book → Blank, or bindery.infinitelibrary.ai/magazine) opens a real issue, composed as it opens: a masthead cover with cover lines, a contents page that builds itself, an editor’s letter, news pages in three columns, a cover story that opens on a colour or photo page and runs in two columns with a drop cap and pull quotes, and a back page. Tell the editor what’s in the issue — or paste the stories you have — and it writes and sets every piece, asking rather than inventing news or quotes. Ads (full or half page, from the advertiser’s own file), a Q&A, a calendar and full-bleed photo pages are there when the issue needs them. It prints in full colour at 8.5 × 11 in, folded and stapled like the newsstand (4–48 pages). And when it’s out, the “No. 1 · Next issue” chip beside the title starts No. 2 with the same nameplate, design, departments and ads — numbered, dated, ready for new stories.
The clean, print-ready PDF used to save from a small arrow in the page bar under your proof, while the EPUB and Word had buttons up top — so the file most people want was the hardest one to find. Now “Download PDF” leads the proof toolbar, with EPUB and Word beside it, as soon as your book’s files are yours (any membership, or the book’s one-time unlock). Typing /download in the book’s chat or picking “Download the PDF” from ⌘K saves the same file, and the help chat can hand it to you in one tap.
The Sonnet tier now writes with Claude Sonnet 5.5, Anthropic’s newest Sonnet — the same credits per reply, and a steadier hand on many-step work: a change carried through a whole manuscript in fewer steps, its tools used more reliably, and the voice your book asks for held more firmly. Pick it per book from the composer or ⌘K (part of Pro).
The Opus tier now writes with Claude Opus 5.5, Anthropic’s newest Opus, released today — the same credits per reply, stronger on ambitious rewrites and many-step work, and a sharper reader of the page proofs, charts and photos it checks as it goes. Pick it per book from the composer or ⌘K (part of Pro).
Add a book → Blank now offers a shelf of page designs drawn by Bindery’s designers — a trade novel, literary fiction, a thriller, a memoir, a poetry collection, a nonfiction book, essays, a cookbook, a textbook, a children’s chapter book, a guided journal and a large-print edition. Tap one to see its chapter opener, the page after it and its contents at reading size, open the whole sample book as a PDF, and read what the editor will ask you first — then start. The book opens with its first proof already composing and the editor’s interview waiting, no wait for a compile. And when you publish a finished book, its own design joins the shelf (you can say no in the Publish dialog): anyone can start a book in it, your name goes on their colophon, and you earn $1 for every copy they print.
Companies can now buy Bindery the way they buy software — annual plans (Team, Business, Enterprise) that seat a whole team by company domain, a pooled allowance of AI credits, single sign-on on Enterprise, a DPA, and a prepaid print balance that pays for copies without a card — including “ship one to everyone on a list” from any book’s Order dialog. Quotes generate in seconds and turn into net-30 invoices against a purchase order. The Notes and Work tabs gained connectors: Notion, Confluence, Google Docs and Zoom recordings land in the pile as readable pages, and meeting exports arrive as clean dialogue. Agencies and consultants can resell under their own name at /partners.
The receipt under a reply is now a row of doors: tap a chapter’s name to open it in Source, or “composed a fresh proof” to see the pages. The proof answers the keyboard — click it, then ← → PgUp PgDn Home End. On a phone, the Preview tab wears a dot when a fresh proof lands while you’re writing. The typesetting scaffold (main.tex, preamble.tex) folds away under “Setup files”, and the tab strip lights one hint at a time instead of five.
Teams can now set the typography, palette, page rules, imprint and a vector logo once and lock them: every book on the kit composes to it, the editor is held to it (a locked section can’t be changed even when asked), each proof gets a brand check, and the printed cover carries the ground, the display face and the logo in its slot. Share the kit with a link; part of Publisher and Agency.
Add a book → Work: drop in white papers, a Notion export (.zip), meeting notes, YouTube links or your blog’s address, pick the shape — an authority book, an industry report, an employee onboarding manual, a company history, a culture report, a course textbook or a workbook — and name the organization and the reader. The editor reads every file, writes the book in that shape (a 30/60/90-day checklist, numbered findings with charts, learning objectives and review questions…), puts your organization on the title page and as the imprint with your colour on the cover, leaves the colophon off, and asks for whatever the material doesn’t hold instead of inventing it. A team with a Brand kit picks it right there, so the manual composes in the company's own typography, palette and logo. Teams start at /work.
Paste a YouTube link and the studio reads its captions — and when a video has none (a song, an animated short, a silent film), the studio now watches it and takes notes: every spoken or sung word verbatim, plus what’s on screen. The editor can also open a link you mention mid-chat itself, so “the links at the top” just works.
Anthropic’s newest flagship, released today, now writes every book on the Fable tier — the same credits per reply, stronger on long manuscripts and many-step work. Pick it per book from the composer or ⌘K (part of Pro).
The Opus tier now writes with Claude Opus 5 — the same credits per reply, stronger on ambitious rewrites and many-step work. Pick it per book from the composer or ⌘K (part of Pro).
The new Storybook tab turns an idea — or a book you've already written — into an illustrated picture book. Claude writes a storyboard first, every spread's words and what its picture shows, and you edit it line by line before anything is drawn. Character sheets lock the cast; then every spread is illustrated, checked against the sheets, and debited only when it's kept — the price sits on the button before a credit moves, and your first spreads are on us. Read it on screen two pages at a time, have it read aloud, typeset it with the words set off the art, and order it as an 8.5 × 8.5 in colour hardcover.
Enter while the editor is working no longer goes nowhere: your next message waits in the box and sends itself the moment the turn settles — keep typing to add to it, or tap “Don’t send yet”. Whatever you leave unsent comes back after a reload, per book. During a long turn a small “Notify me when it’s done” chip can switch on a system notification for when you’re in another window (only ever offered while something is running, remembered once you answer). Type /support to reach help from the composer. And the landing finally says what things cost — a plain price table at #pricing, read from the same numbers the checkout uses.
The composer is always listening, the way a terminal is: type a letter anywhere in the studio and it lands in the box, with no click first — on the landing too, where your first keystroke takes over the demo. Lose the connection mid-thought (a phone waking up, a deploy) and the box stays open: press Enter and the message waits, then sends itself the moment the editor is back. And when a long turn or a compose finishes while you’re in another tab, the tab’s title says so.
The shelf tripled: alongside Spanish, Japanese and Arabic, your book can now become an edition in Icelandic, Ukrainian, Yoruba, Armenian, Khmer, Welsh, Sanskrit, Cantonese — even Latin — 110 languages, every one typeset properly for its script: right-to-left where it reads that way, the covering fonts chosen for print, and Burmese, Khmer, Lao and Tibetan editions numbering their pages in their own numerals. Same promise as always: one style sheet holds every name and term consistent, the opening translates free first, and the price is quoted up front.
A finished screenplay can now leave the studio: Share on the Script tab puts it on a free public reading page of your book's site — the whole script in real screenplay type, on any phone, with a script PDF to take away and a door back to your book. Pasted links unfurl as the movie of your book, every reader can pass it on, and your link carries your referral. The room got sharper too: while Claude drafts you see how far into the format it is (“≈ page 34 of ~105”), it checks its own pace against the industry page bands act by act, a draft that lands over or under length gets a one-tap “Bring it to length”, and after a taste the whole-book adaptation is one click from the opening scene it just showed you.
Every published book has a face on it — the portrait on the back cover, the page at the end, the picture beside the byline. Almost no self-published one does, because a headshot has always meant a photographer and an appointment. Now it means a selfie. Take or upload one photo of yourself and the studio makes professional author portraits of you in the looks you pick: a classic grey-backdrop headshot, warm window light, a literary black & white, a bold editorial colour, a book-lined study, golden hour, a café candid, or a painted illustrated portrait for a children's book. Claude directs the shoot for your book, checks every shot against your real face, and reshoots anything that drifts. Pick your favourite and it prints on your back cover, opens an About-the-Author page at the end of the book, and becomes your profile picture everywhere — with a bio Claude will draft from your book if you'd rather not start from a blank box. Your first photos are free once your book has its first pages (members get the whole first set), the photo you like is one tap from your back cover and your book's website, and your selfie stays private to your account.
There’s a community shelf of page designs now (/designs): real typography from finished books, each with its own page. Start a new book inside any of them from Add a book → Blank — the design travels, the words are yours, and the designer is credited on your colophon. Finished a book you’re proud of? Publish → Share the design names it, gives it a page to send people to, and pays you $1 for every copy printed in it, with your book royalties. Every published book’s website also offers “Make a book in this design” to its readers.
For the birthday book, the memorial, the wedding, the family cookbook: Share → Collect contributions turns on a link anyone can use — no account, no app. They leave a note, up to six photos and a voice note recorded on the spot; each piece lands in your book’s contributions folder and rings your bell. One button weaves them in, crediting each person by name. Contributors can pass the invitation on, and say they’d like a printed copy — the Order dialog counts them when you size the run.
The mic in the composer takes a voice note and lands the words in the box, ready to send — say what you want changed, or dictate a whole passage. And the recordings you already have work the same way: a voice memo, an interview with your grandmother, a lecture, a video — attach it (the ⌄ beside the mic, the paperclip, or just drop it into the chat) and the editor transcribes it and writes from your words. Priced by the minute (15 credits) and quoted before anything is charged; a two-hour interview is a few minutes' wait. YouTube links are still free.
Translate makes a whole edition of your book in Spanish, French, German, Portuguese, Japanese, Chinese, Korean, Hindi, Arabic — thirty-odd languages at launch — as its own book beside the original: the manuscript translated passage by passage with one style sheet so every name and term stays consistent, typeset for its language, compiled, and ready to print, publish, narrate or export like any book here. See your opening translated for free first, side by side with the original; the price is quoted up front in credits (a 60,000-word novel is about 400 on Haiku, 1,800 on Sonnet), and it runs in the background while you write.
Every book now exports as an editable Word manuscript (.docx) — chapters as real headings, footnotes and images intact — ready for your editor, a co-writer, or any submissions inbox that asks for Word. It rides the same one-time unlock as the PDF and EPUB (free with a membership): look for the Word button beside EPUB in the proof toolbar once your book is unlocked.
The new Music tab turns your book into real songs with sung vocals. Claude writes the lyrics first — one song per moment of your story, revisable by chat like everything else — and you read every word before recording. Recording is priced per minute and quoted before it starts: a 30-second hook of your own song costs about 150 credits, a full track about 900. Songs land one by one, playable the moment they finish, with your cover as the album art.
The new Script tab turns your book into a real screenplay — a feature film, a TV pilot, or a short — written scene by scene in industry-standard pages while you watch. Revise it the way you revise the book, just by asking (“punch up the dialogue”, “cut scene 12”), and export it as a script PDF or a Final Draft file. The cost in credits is quoted before anything starts, and you can taste it first: the opening scene alone, for a fraction of the price.
Published book sites are no longer islands. Every one now ends with a shelf — your other books, then the freshest titles from other Bindery authors — and every other book's page returns the favor, sending its readers toward yours. There's a public shelf of every published book at /books, and search engines now see one connected web of books instead of lonely pages. Publishing your book's website is what puts you on it.
Pair your book’s editor with a stronger model — Opus or Fable — that reads the whole conversation mid-task and sends back strategy at the moments that matter: before a big draft, when a design won’t converge, before calling it done. Your editor keeps writing at its own rate; you pay the advisor’s rate only for the consults, and each one shows in the chat as its own card. Pair it from the model menu in the composer, or just type /advisor — your next message opens with the advisor’s first read, no special ask needed. Part of Bindery Pro.
A 9,000-word draft was never the ceiling — Claude can elaborate your whole manuscript to a comprehensive 80,000-word edition: every chapter deepened in your voice, new ones where they belong, nothing replaced. Pick a target from novella to epic; the proof toolbar now shows your live word count after every compose.
Upload the volumes you’ve already written and start the next one. The editor reads them all first and keeps a series bible — characters, timeline, open threads, your voice on the page — so the new volume never contradicts what your readers already know.
The wallet in the header now drains in real time while the editor writes — the count ticks down, a running “−N” shows what the current turn has cost so far, and the popover breaks it down. No more wondering what a turn spent until it finished.
Publishing now prices both formats in one step: readers preview the opening pages free, then buy the ebook and the paperback at the prices you set. About 95% of every ebook sale is yours (minus card fees) — or keep it free, one tap.
The interview now works on a finished book too: the editor reads what’s on the page, asks what you want different — a rewrite, more chapters, a new voice — then makes the changes when you say go. Your current edition stays one Rewind away.
Every book can now carry a signed Certificate of Authorship — fingerprinted to your exact manuscript, with a public verification page anyone can check. Free, from the proof toolbar.