It asks.Sunday, at the hour you chose.
You talk.It writes down what you said — nothing more.
Kept, for the week.A page or two, waiting for the book.
Your childhood, narrated by Dad
Three artefacts. Two come in the post; one is always yours.
Month three
The sample
A quick taster of what you will be passing down to your children. Your first three months in colour, on good paper.
Every year
The annual book
Their physical keepsake — a quality hardback for each year of their childhood, edited by Ember from your own words. Twelve chapters, case bound.
Always
The digital corpus
Every word you ever said, kept verbatim and unedited, across all the years. Your data, to download and share as you please.
Ember AI
The voice on the other side of the fire. It asks, listens, and edits — it never speaks in your place.
Each week
It asks
One question, at the hour you chose. Small enough to answer in three minutes; big enough to matter in eighteen years.
When there’s more
It digs deeper
When your answer holds more than it says, Ember asks the question behind it — the way a good friend would.
Between the lines
It draws out the lesson
Some weeks carry more than a story. Ember helps you find what you learnt — the wisdom you’d want them to have, said in your own words.
Month by month, year by year
It puts it together
Ember edits the book: choosing, arranging, giving each chapter its shape — and pulling out the lines worth keeping, word for word.
Ember edits; it never rewrites. It chooses, arranges and introduces — but every word in quotation marks is yours, exactly as you said it.
Your words are never rewritten. The corpus keeps every one of them verbatim, and you approve every page before the book prints.
What it will not do
There are no streaks, no badges, and no counting of the weeks you missed. A week you skipped is simply a week waiting for you, however long ago it was. And there is no feed: nobody else sees any of this, ever.
And then it's a book
Not an archive to scroll — a thing with a spine, addressed to one person, written by the one who was there.
Keep going and they stand together on a shelf — eighteen books, if you go all the way. A quiet year can be bound in with the one after it rather than printed thin.
What it costs
One price, said once.
£119 a year
All of this is included.
- Both printed things — the pamphlet at three months, the hardcover at twelve.
- No per-page fees, and no surprise charge when it goes to print.
- Your writing stays readable, and exportable, after the year ends — whether or not you carry on.
- Extra copies for family are priced separately.
Questions
The ones worth answering before you hand over a year of your words.
Does AI rewrite what I say?
No. Ember edits the book — it chooses what to keep, arranges it into chapters, and writes the connecting pages — but it never rewrites you. Every quoted line is yours word for word, the digital corpus keeps everything you said verbatim, and you approve every page before the book prints.
What if I miss a week?
Nothing happens. There are no streaks, no badges, and no counting of the weeks you missed. A week you skipped is simply a week waiting for you, however long ago it was.
Who can see what I write?
Nobody. There is no feed, no sharing, and no audience — this is written for one child, by you.
What actually arrives in the post?
Two things a year, both included in the price: a colour pamphlet of your first three months, and the hardcover book of the full year at month twelve.
What happens if I stop?
Your writing stays readable, and exportable, after the year ends — whether or not you carry on.
Can family get copies?
Yes. Extra copies are priced separately.
Be there at the start
Campfire is in private testing. The list hears first.
One email, when it is ready. No newsletter, and your address is not passed to anyone.
You are on the list. We will write once, when it opens.