st0ries.com

They’ll interview you, take your pictures, and craft your story into a lovely memoir–by you

Jutta van der Kuijp had been asking her 82-year-old father, Jan, to write his life story for years. She’d always found it fascinating. Born in what is today Jakarta, he’d spent most of the Second World War in POW camps in Japan, then moved to Holland, met Jutta’s mother, and emigrated to Canada in the late 1960s with three kids in tow. Jutta wanted a record of his life. But her father, a retired sales manager who lives in Guelph, Ont., had never been able to write more than a couple of pages. Then, last month, Jutta, a 46-year-old interior designer, opened a birthday present from her husband. She would be getting her father’s memoirs after all. Her husband had hired Thomas Memoirs, a Toronto-based company specializing in autobiographies-for-anyone. A writer would interview van der Kuijp and craft his story into a book.

Jan van der Kuijp’s life may have been unusual, but the desire to have it documented is anything but these days. And while teens and twentysomethings profile themselves online, their parents are looking for a more traditional record. “This is something you could have for your great-grandchildren and their children,” says Peter O’Brien, president of Thomas Memoirs, which launched in April.

O’Brien, 48, runs a corporate communications firm. He came to the memoirs business by chance. A friend who owns a merchant bank had wanted to get an employee a unique gift for his retirement — something more special than a gold watch or a cruise. He asked O’Brien to write the man’s memoirs. O’Brien agreed. “I started to tell a few people what I was doing, and three out of the next four people I told hired me on the spot,” he recalls. Thomas Memoirs was born. O’Brien chose that name because he wanted something that sounds “personal” and Thomas is a common name around the world. Each of his projects involves 10 to 25 hours of interviews, takes four months to produce and costs a minimum of $10,000. The buyer is presented with a minimum of 25 smartly bound copies of the memoir, complete with text and photos. The title of Jan van der Kuijp’s is Always a New Adventure.

Vancouver-based Echo Memoirs does a similar business. When Samantha Reynolds founded the company in 2001, she ran it out of her apartment and was the only employee. Today, Echo Memoirs has an in-house bindery and a rotating staff of 15 to 20 writers, copy editors, designers, and proofreaders, who help create up to 60 books a year. Reynolds has clients in Florida, New York, Calgary, Toronto and Los Angeles. The company also writes pet histories, travel journals, pregnancy memoirs, corporate histories and a host of other personalized stories.

“You can’t really put a price tag on having these memories for generations to come,” says Reynolds. Companies, of course, do. Echo Memoirs’ projects start at $10,000, though very extensive family histories can run up to $50,000. For the most part, says Reynolds, her clients are “people in their 40s, 50s or 60s who have a parent and really want their stories because they have kids of their own now.”

There are cheaper options, like The Autobiography Box: A Step-by-Step Kit for Examining the Life Worth Living. Its “Owners Manual” offers tips on structure and dramatization, as well as handy cue cards. “Write about a strange family member” reads one. “Describe a moment of pure joy” reads another. “It’s been selling very well,” says Joanne Saul, owner of Type, a Toronto bookstore. Another new company, called Tipsy Quill, specializes in stories of how a couple met. The resulting “Love Notes,” about a page long, are handed out at the couple’s wedding. More private couples probably would not use the service, says Frann Harris, who launched the company with her sister Cindy in 2004. “But we live in an Oprah-ized society where many people let it out more easily,” she says. Love Notes cost a minimum of $1,500.

With four memoirs in development, O’Brien is hiring writers for future projects. He believes personalized memoirs are popular because “everybody wants to leave behind some sort of a record of their accomplishments, struggles, thoughts, challenges, adventures.” Jutta van der Kuijp puts it another way. “I’ve always thought the saddest moments are when I’m at flea markets and I see boxes of old photographs for sale,” she says. “Those were important people to someone and they’ve become anonymous with time. And I think this kind of thing preserves your family line.”

By: McGinn, Dave, Maclean’s