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.
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.