Life Story Writing
Recording the moments, choices, and experiences that made a life
“Her story, his story, their story. This is me”
It starts with a moment of recognition
You realise this is a whole life sitting in front of you.
A parent. A grandparent. Someone you’ve worked alongside, learned from, looked up to. Someone whose story runs through your own without you ever quite hearing it told.
And you realise that one day, it won’t be there to ask.
So we make the time.
It starts with a moment of recognition
You realise this is a whole life sitting in front of you.
A parent. A grandparent. Someone you’ve worked alongside, learned from, looked up to. Someone whose story runs through your own without you ever quite hearing it told.
And you realise that one day, it won’t be there to ask.
So we make the time.
How it works
You don’t have to write a word.
We sit down and talk, in person or by video call. I ask the questions. I listen. I record.
Life, love, regrets, what counted, what did not. The kind of conversation people mean to have and rarely get to.
Within 48 hours of our first conversation, you receive a written first draft. Not the finished story. A beginning. Something on the page that lets us both see what’s there, what’s missing, and where to go deeper.
From there, we work together over the coming weeks. More conversations. Family members, sometimes, if their voices belong in the story. Photographs from albums and shoeboxes, sorted and chosen together. Damaged or faded photographs restored. The story drawn together, refined, and brought to life.
What you end up with is a complete, polished manuscript: the whole story, written and ready. From there, turning it into a printed book is straightforward, and I can point you to trusted designers and printers who do that final step beautifully. The result is something to hold, to read, and to hand down.
A glimpse of a life
From a story written for a client whose grandfather was killed in Belgium in the First World War.
When I was growing up, my mother used to show me a parcel wrapped in brown paper and tied with string.
Inside was a body belt made from a flour bag, stitched into little pockets for a soldier’s belongings. A small Bible. A notebook and pencil. A cigarette case. Cigarette cards. And a pair of hand-knitted mittens.
The mittens had her father’s initials embroidered on them. I used to wonder about those mittens. Had they come from home? From a Red Cross parcel? From some kind woman who would never know where they had ended up? Had Martin himself stitched those initials, sitting somewhere in Belgium, thinking of the wife and two little girls he had left behind?
My grandfather, Martin Henry Collins, was a bombardier with the Australian Field Artillery. He was killed in action in Belgium on the 21st of September, 1917.
He was twenty-seven years old.
What this gives
Most people know someone through the role they hold in their life.
A parent. A grandparent. Someone they work with. Someone they volunteer with. Someone they have admired. Someone they see as a role model.
This process shifts that.
You meet them as a young person. You see where they started. What they stepped into. What they took on. What they chose. You begin to understand why they think the way they do. Where their values come from.
A life that was known in one way is now seen in full.
Why these stories matter
These stories carry the moments family and community hold onto.
A decision someone made. A way they responded. The small details that tell you who they were.A grandfather going off to war. A mother holding things together during a difficult time. A teacher who changed the direction of a life.
These are the stories people go back to when they want guidance or perspective.
“What would she have done. What would he have said.”
That voice is there when a decision needs to be made.
The voice you trust.
Once these stories are written down, that voice is there for the next person who needs it.
In a client’s own words
“I have often felt guilty for not writing my story. It always felt too hard.
Lynne asked the questions, listened to the answers and recorded everything without asking me to write a word. Her genuine interest in my story meant a great deal, and her ability to bring it together leaves me in awe.”
– Lesley East
Who this is for
For the person whose story it is.
You don’t need to be a writer. You don’t need to have notes, or a plan, or any sense of where to begin. You just need to be willing to talk. I’ll do the rest.
For the family member who wants to capture it.
If there’s a parent or grandparent whose stories you’ve been meaning to record, and the years are passing, this is the way to do it. Many of my projects begin with an adult son or daughter who wants this for their family before it’s too late.
What’s included
Every project includes the interviews, the writing, and the photograph work, including the careful sorting and restoration of old or damaged photographs. What you receive at the end is a complete, polished manuscript: your whole story, written and ready to become a book. I can connect you with trusted designers and printers for that final step, or guide you through it yourself.
Projects vary in scope. Some focus on particular chapters of a life, others tell a full life story. I offer a small number of packages to suit different needs, and we’ll talk about which one fits before we start.
There’s no fixed formula. Your story sets the form.
An invitation
If there is someone in your life whose story you want to capture, I can help you do that.
We sit down. We talk. I write it.
You keep the story.
Looking for something else?
Lynne also writes award nominations and community recognition pieces.