Choose from popular face frame or frameless cabinet styles. Enter your cabinet’s rough width, height, and depth. Select your construction method — dados and grooves or simple butt joints like pocket screws. Add optional details like beaded face frames or baseboard molding. Include as many cabinets as your project requires.
Once your cabinet is configured, a complete parts list is generated instantly — with dimensions based on the construction method you choose. Hardware like drawer runners and door hinges are included automatically. Combine multiple cabinets into a clean 2D drawing you can share with clients or use for reference in the shop.
No downloads. No complicated software. Just enter your cabinet dimensions, pick your construction details, and get instant results. Whether you're sketching ideas for a built-in or planning a full wall of cabinets, CabinetPlans.io helps you move from concept to cut sheets in minutes. Create your first cabinet now — it's free to try.
Pick your cabinet type, enter rough dimensions, and select your joinery method — no CAD experience needed.
Get a detailed list of parts and materials based on your cabinet configuration, including doors, shelves, and face frames.
Printable cut sheets for plywood and hardwood, optimized to save material and reduce layout mistakes.
Combine cabinets into scaled 2D layouts for full walls or built-ins. Export the renderings as picture files that you can share with clients or use in the shop for quick reference.
Drawer runners, door hinges, and other common hardware are included in your parts list automatically.
Runs right in your browser — use it on your phone, tablet, or laptop with no downloads or installation.
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One night, out of boredom and desperation, she filmed a 15-second video. She didn’t dance or lip-sync. Instead, she sat in her cluttered kitchen, held up a worn copy of Joan Didion’s The Year of Magical Thinking , and said in a deadpan voice: “This book made me realize that my student loans are the least interesting thing about my failure.” Then she took a sip of cold coffee and ended the video. She posted it under a new username: @EllieNova—a nod to the “new star” she hoped to become.
Her most famous series, “Sad Girl Lit 101,” broke her out of the bookish niche. In one video, she reviewed The Bell Jar while eating instant ramen in a bathtub. In another, she compared the existential dread in a Kafka novel to the feeling of being left on “read.” Within three months, Ellie Nova had 5 million followers. She got a book deal (a collection of melancholy essays, not the novel), a clothing line of oversized sweaters and beanies, and a sponsorship from a melancholy indie perfume brand called “Rainwater.”
Then, in August, the bookstore closed. Eleanor was unemployed, behind on rent, and the novel was stuck on page 47. That’s when the algorithm found her. i know that girl ellie nova
So yes, I know that girl, Ellie Nova. You think you do too—the girl who turned sadness into an aesthetic, and an aesthetic into a fortune. But the informative part of this story isn’t about her fame. It’s about the quiet gap between the person we perform online and the person we leave behind in a failing bookstore. And that’s the real Ellie Nova: not the star, but the girl who got lost in her own creation.
Today, Ellie Nova is a micro-empire. She has a podcast, a sold-out “Melancholy Tour,” and a net worth in the low seven figures. The bookstore where she used to work is now a merch pop-up shop. And the novel? It’s still stuck on page 47, tucked inside a drawer beneath a pile of unsentimental contracts. One night, out of boredom and desperation, she
By morning, it had 2 million views.
But here is the part of the story that the TikToks don’t show. I know that girl, the real one. One evening last winter, after a brand deal gone wrong, she called me. The old Eleanor—not Ellie Nova—was crying. She admitted that she hadn’t read most of the books she quoted in her videos. She confessed that the “relatable sadness” was largely manufactured; she was actually fairly happy most days. The persona was a character, a hustle. But the internet didn’t want a happy, well-adjusted young woman. It wanted the tragic, beautiful, bookish mess. So she gave it what it wanted. She posted it under a new username: @EllieNova—a
I first met Ellie in the spring of 2023. She was working the opening shift at a small, struggling bookstore in Portland, Oregon. At the time, “Ellie Nova” didn’t exist. She was just Eleanor Novak, a 21-year-old with a faded Smiths t-shirt, purple streaks in her hair that were growing out, and a habit of rearranging the poetry section when she was anxious. She was quiet, almost shy, and she lived in a cramped studio apartment with a cat named Kafka. Her biggest dream was to finish her novel—a literary fiction piece no one would ever publish.
