We help children become real authors.

My daughter was always writing. Scraps of stories, brilliant openings, characters you wanted to know more about — and then nothing. The ideas were there; the finishing wasn't. She loves books, and one day she told me what she really wanted was to write her own and be a published author.

I'm her dad. I've spent thirty years helping businesses grow, and I've always been fascinated by technology — more recently by what AI can actually do for people, having spent years working with charities and not-for-profits on making their systems work better. So I did what any parent with too much curiosity and not enough sense would do: I started building.

It did not go smoothly.

I lost four weeks of work in one go — overwritten, gone. The books came back wonky. Covers printed with the titles cut off. Getting the writing engine to hold context, to keep a plot straight, to actually imagine something a child would want to read — that was the hardest part by a distance. There were a lot of late nights and a lot of frustration. Every mistake takes two weeks to find out about, because that's how long a book takes to print.

But then the first proper one arrived. Her name on the cover. Her characters. Her story.

Here's the part I didn't plan for, and it's still the best thing about this.

Her friends started making them too. And then they started swapping them. Reading each other's books. Passing them round. Their teacher has started reading them out in class. What began as one child wanting to finish a story has turned into a group of children who write for each other and read for each other — because the book is real, and it's theirs, and someone else wants to read it.

That's why this exists. Honestly, it's less a business than an attempt to give children access to something that used to be out of reach: the pride of holding your own book, with your own name on it, that your friends actually want to read.

She got there. So can your child.

Dad