If someone in your family has had a diagnosis and you are thinking about recording them, the honest advice is: do the recording now and think about the book later. Ask permission, keep the sessions short, and record on whatever is in your pocket. The book can be assembled at any point. The voice cannot.
Recording someone's life story when time is short
Four things worth knowing before you ask
Shorter and more often beats one long sitting, and the ordinary recordings matter more than you would expect.
- Twenty minutes at the time of day they have most energy, repeated, rather than an afternoon.
- Do not make it a project they have to complete. The pressure of an unfinished book is the last thing anyone needs.
- Record the ordinary things too: the way they say your name, what they think of the weather, a recipe. Families say afterwards that those are the ones they return to.
- Sort out consent early, while it is an easy conversation rather than a difficult one.
The questions, and how to record the answers
Forty interview questions grouped by who you are asking and which part of their life, plus the one-page recording guide — which room, where to put the phone, what to say at the start, and what to do if they become upset. It arrives in about thirty seconds.
Why this one lands
Families who did this are almost never sorry. Families who meant to are the reason pages like this exist.
But it has to be done gently, and it has to be their choice. Some people want very much to be asked and have been waiting for someone to. Others want the time for something else entirely, and that is theirs to decide.
Why not a notebook
The beautiful notebook is the standard gift here and it nearly always ends in a drawer — not because it is a bad object, but because what stands between someone and their book is not a lack of paper. It is not knowing where to start, not believing anyone would want to read it, and having no structure to follow.
A gift that supplies those three things gets used. One that supplies stationery adds a small, gentle weight of obligation to a pile that already exists.
What to do first
Ask permission, plainly, and record. Twenty minutes is enough. Three twenty-minute conversations across a fortnight will get you more than one exhausting afternoon.
Say the date and who is speaking at the start of each recording. Back it up the same day, to two places.
And if they tire, stop early. Stopping while there is still something to say is what makes a second conversation possible.
Please read this bit
Do not turn it into a project they have to complete. The pressure of an unfinished book is the last thing anyone needs.
And record the ordinary things as well as the significant ones — the way they say your name, what they think of the weather, a recipe. Families say afterwards that it is the ordinary recordings they return to.
What you're actually giving
Your Book Pro is a British book-writing platform. You bring a book — an idea, a folder of notes, half a draft, or a finished manuscript written somewhere else — and it gives you the editorial process a publisher would run: a plan, structured feedback, a simulated beta read, a line edit, a proofread, a cover, a blurb and a print-ready file. You can type it, upload it or speak it. The tools sit in one place and work on the same manuscript, so the feedback compounds instead of arriving as twelve disconnected opinions.
What you are actually giving. They can talk it rather than type it, which matters for anyone who finds a blank screen intimidating — and most people who have never written a book do. Recordings become clean transcripts; transcripts become chapters; the editorial tools work on the result.
Every account starts with 1,000 welcome credits that never expire. No subscription, no deadline, nothing to cancel. That matters for a gift: there is no clock running, and nobody feels they have wasted your money by not starting until March.
And the Book Coach is free at yourbook.pro/book-coach with no account, so they can try it before you give them anything at all — and so can you.
At the end there is a printed book. A single proof copy is around £4.25 plus roughly £4.15 UK shipping. For a great many people, holding it is the whole point — and it is worth ordering one early, at the messy-draft stage, because paper makes a book feel possible in a way a file never does.
Try the Book Coach — free, no account
See the question sets
Email me the questionsQuestions people ask
- What should I ask first?
- Something easy and specific — where they were born, what the house was like, who lived next door. Save anything heavy for a later session, if at all.
- What if they don't want to?
- Then don't. Ask once, gently, and accept the answer. Some people want the time for other things, and that is entirely theirs to decide.
- Is twenty minutes really enough?
- Three short conversations beat one long one, almost always. Tiredness flattens everything, and short sessions are far more likely to have a sequel.
- Does the gift expire?
- No. The welcome credits never expire and there is no subscription to cancel — which is deliberate, because a gift with a clock on it becomes a source of guilt rather than a present.
- Do they need to be good with computers?
- No. They can talk rather than type, on a phone, and someone else can do the uploading. Plenty of family books are made by one person recording and another assembling.
- Can I help them with it?
- Yes, and for family stories that is usually how it works — one person interviews, another types or uploads, and the book belongs to everyone.
- What if they never use it?
- Start with the free question sets and one recorded afternoon. Even if no book follows, the recording is the thing families are most glad to have.