You don't need to be a celebrity, famous sportsperson or award-winning scientist to have a story worth telling. Every life - with its loves, losses, successes and failures - is an autobiography in the making.
We can make that journey together.
Write with You comprises six, one-hour interviews which blossom into your life story, or the life story of a loved one if you purchase a gift package. Each interview is crafted into a manuscript which we can read and edit together as the project progresses, culminating in a 'bookshop quality' hardback book. Your words; your story.
Write with You 'Mini Memoir': This condensed form of the autobiography package comprises two, one-hour interviews to produce a memoir of up to 15,000 words. Perfect for writing about a shorter time period or specific event, maybe that 'once-in-a-lifetime' trip, or a grandparent writing about their childhood.
Early Married Life
1950s
When we were first married, we didn't have enough money to buy a house or rent a flat, so we moved into the two upstairs bedrooms at my parents' house in Southend-on-Sea. My brother, who was a painter and decorator, converted the smallest bedroom into a kitchen, putting in a sink and gas stove. He made the other room into a bed-sitting room, with a lovely fireplace and two fireside chairs, which was very cosy. Mum and Dad let us use their dining table and chairs, as their dining room had now become their bedroom. We stayed in our little upstairs flat for four years and I loved it there.
Family
1970s
My sister had the most awful temper when she was little. She would stamp around the house with her hands clenched in tight fists and her thumbs sticking up. My mother called it the 'angry thumb dance', which made my sister even crosser. The tantrums were even worse. She would throw herself dramatically onto the rug in the hallway and beat her hands and feet on the floor. My mother was never fazed by these rages, she would simply clear the area of glassware and sharp objects before telling my sister 'No!' if she was being naughty. Mother would then go about her business, casually stepping over my sister on the hallway floor as she moved from room to room.
RAF National Service
1948
There were five of us, Derek, Titch (I never knew his real name), Brian, Tubby and me. We had been working on a Lancaster Bomber and, when we were finished, the officer in charge said, 'Get in, all of you, I'll take you up.' It was a horrible wet day, but once we were up above the clouds, it was so bright and sunny that we started planning all kinds of things to do that afternoon. Of course, it was still raining when we landed. That was the first time any of us had flown; we were all in the same boat, regardless of class or education. That, for me, was what National Service was all about, the friendships we made.