Paper is an Android home screen for Pixel phones: grey text on a paper surface, with no icons, no badges and nothing that moves, so nothing on the screen is bidding for you. What is left is the thing you picked the phone up to do, and a book to read when it turns out you didn’t.
Try it here The launcher itself, running in this page. Swipe it, or tap a name below to turn to another of its pages.
The Embedded AI Engineer · 7%
· ask, and it answers on this page ·
try “when should I leave for the dentist?”
or “add a task: email the Hort”
tap the right of the book to turn a page · write on the notes
sheet · ask the agent something.
four of Paper's pages, with scripted answers. The app also has
the index, the shelf, the settings and a dozen optional lines; the
agent runs on your own Gemini key.
Point Paper at an .epub and it joins the shelf. Pick another and the first one waits exactly where you left it: mid-sentence, mid-page, months later.
Covers come out of the book itself, dithered to eight greys the way an e-reader prints a picture. A book without one gets its title set on a blank board, which is what a plain binding looks like anyway.
Reach it by long-pressing the page you are reading, or from the reader’s own footer. Everything here is text and paper: no store, no account, no library that lives on someone else’s server.
Colour is how a screen shouts.
A red dot on a green icon is not decoration; it is a claim on your attention, made by someone who is paid when it works. Paper takes the colour away, the whole phone and the lock screen with it, and most of the pull goes too. What is left is words, and words wait their turn.
Every one of them ships turned off. Paper does nothing until you ask.
No icons. No widgets. No animations. No analytics.
Nothing is collected about you, there is no account, and the app cannot show you an advertisement because there is nowhere to put one. E-paper does not shimmer, which is why nothing on this page moves, either.
Two kids; school runs on Tuesdays. Answer plainly, never hedge.
Repos are re-read on every question; push a change and the agent knows it. When you tell it something lasting, it writes it back, and a push puts it in your history, not a vendor’s.
A full agent in a Linux sandbox that browses, runs code and reads your calendar, with questions in the margin voice and answers typeset like the book. Speak instead of typing, if you like.
Its memory is a git repository you own. The secretary reads its knowledge from your repos and, when you tell it something lasting, writes it back: your life, versioned in markdown, on your own GitHub. Nothing sits in anyone else’s database.
Hand it the day’s notes and it returns a ledger: loops closed with researched answers, or reduced to one clear decision. Say research … and it disappears for a few minutes and comes back with a report.
It runs on your own Gemini API key, and there is no version where it doesn’t. You create the key at Google AI Studio, paste it into Paper’s settings, and Google bills you directly for what you ask. Paper never sees the traffic and takes no cut. Knowledge repositories mean git repositories you own and push to.
That makes this half of Paper a tinkerer’s feature, and it’s sold as one. If handling an API key isn’t something you want to do, buy Paper for the pages: the launcher, the book, the index, the quiet. Leave the agent switched off, where it ships.
Bought once, like a book. No subscription, no trial that expires, no second tier to unlock. Every feature on this page is in the app you buy.
Coming to Google PlayIn closed testing now. The price and everything on this page are settled; only the store listing is waiting.
Android 13 or newer. Built for Pixels; the grain shader needs API 33.
What you buy is the launcher. The pages, the book, the index, the paper: all of it works the moment you install it, with nothing to configure and no account to make.
Two things ask something of you. System-wide grayscale needs one permission Android only grants over a cable, or from the phone to itself in about five minutes, which Paper walks you through. And the secretary needs your own Gemini API key, billed to you by Google: a tinkerer’s feature, off by default, and no part of what makes Paper worth using otherwise.
Nothing is collected. No analytics, no accounts, no advertising, no crash reports. The app has nowhere to send anything. The privacy policy is one short page, and it is the whole story.