Tell us when you were born and where life took you. We’ll turn the history you lived through into a deck of story ideas — and you’ll write them the only way that matters: in your own words.
In May 2000, the Cerro Grande Fire tore through Los Alamos, filling New Mexico’s skies with smoke.
How close did the fire come to you — and what was that spring like?
You’ve said it. Maybe for years. But every time you sit down, the same question stares back: where do I even start?
“Tell me about your childhood” is a wall. Nobody remembers a decade. You remember an afternoon — the smell of smoke, a song on the radio, the day everyone stood in the yard looking at the sky. Memory doesn’t need a blank page. It needs a good question.
Every place you lived, and how long it held you. Most people find at least one number they did not expect.
An example life — not a real person's. Yours is built from what you tell us, and stays private to you.
Plenty of software will happily write “your” life story now. We think that misses the entire point.
A memoir isn’t valuable because it’s well-typed. It’s valuable because it’s yours — because writing it is how you find out what you actually remember, and what it meant. Hand that to a machine and you don’t save time; you lose the thing itself.
So 100 Stories does the one thing a machine is good for here: it remembers history with you, and it asks good questions. The finding is ours. The telling is yours.
Your words, in your voice — we never write for you.
Story by story, your collection grows — kept on a timeline of your life, private to you. When you’re ready, we’ll typeset everything into a printed hardcover: your moments, your voice, on paper, on a shelf, in your grandchildren’s hands.
Not a document in a drive. A book in a house.