Your story,
in your own words.
Memora interviews you the way a biographer would, keeps your voice, and turns a life into a book your family can hold — and talk to.
How it works
Four steps, over as many evenings as you like. Most people start with one chapter and find they can't stop.
It works differently depending on whose story it is →Sit and talk
Not a form. A real interview — 42 questions across seven chapters of a life, and after every answer it asks the follow-up a biographer would ask. Where were you standing? What did she actually say? What do you understand now that you couldn't then? Speak your answers or type them; most people talk.
The voice comes for free
If you spoke your answers, you've already done this — every recording is kept, and together they teach Memora your voice. No separate session, no script. A short read-aloud afterwards sharpens it, but the work is already done. Photographs, documents and old voicemails fold in too.
It becomes a book
Memora reads everything you've recorded, finds the moments your life turned on, listens for how you actually speak — and writes the manuscript in that voice, quoting you throughout. A real book, not a transcript.
Give it to them
Send a private link to the people you choose. They can read the book, or sit and talk with your stories in your own voice. You can turn any link off at any time.
The manuscript
Turn a life into a book.
Most of what people record about themselves stays a pile of answers. Memora turns yours into a manuscript — structured the way a biographer structures one, opening on the moment your life turned rather than the day you were born, and quoting you on every page.
It keeps how you speak. If you say crook for ill, the book says crook.
And because the recordings are kept, your family can read a page and then hear you say it.
- Written from your memories only — nothing is invented
- Where the record is thin, the book says so
- Print it, bind it, give it to someone who won't use an app
- Rewrite it whenever you've added more
Chapter Three
The Winter the Boiler Went
She boiled the pans on the stove, two at a time, and carried them up the stairs without spilling a drop. He remembers the steam on the landing window more clearly than he remembers being cold.
“We weren’t poor,” he said, and then stopped, and then said it again differently. “We were poor. But nobody told us, so it didn’t take.”
He never spoke about the year that followed, and this book does not pretend to know it.
An illustration of the form — not a real family’s story.
And they can still ask you things.
The book is what they keep. The conversation is what they come back to — a private link where they can ask a question and hear the answer in your voice, drawn from what you actually recorded.
If they ask about something you never covered, it says so. It will not invent a life you didn’t live, and it never claims to be you.
Private by default
Nothing is public unless you choose it. Every family link can be switched off the moment you want it off.
Yours to take
The manuscript prints. Whatever happens to us, your family keeps the book.
Grows with you
Add a memory whenever one surfaces, and have the book rewritten around it.
Start with one question.
The first chapter takes about twenty minutes. The best time to do this is while every detail is still vivid and the story is still yours to tell.
Begin your storyOne price to build it. A small yearly fee to keep it alive. See what it costs