
Age 3 · 12 words
Cheep. Cheep. A small bird sits in the lamp. Three warm eggs.
CAST AND AGE
Save the cast once, set the age, pick a language and a style. Every book after that starts from there, whichever kind of story it is.
No card, no password. One book to keep, whatever you decide after.

Children, friends, family members, pets, invented characters, and the places that matter: her bedroom, the school gate, grandma's garden. Save them once and they are available to every story afterwards, looking and behaving the same each time.
A story for a three year old and a story for a ten year old are different in sentence length, vocabulary, how much happens per page, how frightening the middle is allowed to get, and how many pictures there are. Set the age and all of that moves together. Retell the same story for an older child later and both versions live on the shelf, in age order.
English, Dutch, German, French, Spanish, Italian and Polish. A story asked for in Dutch is written in Dutch from the start, so the jokes and the rhythm are the language's own rather than an English book wearing a coat.
Watercolour, storybook ink, bold and bright, and others. Pick one per book, or set a family favourite so the shelf looks like a set.




Age 3 · 12 words
Cheep. Cheep. A small bird sits in the lamp. Three warm eggs.

Age 6 · 95 words
A wren, no bigger than Lucas's fist, hopped along the rail and scolded the lot of them.
"Can you mend it?" said Rosie.
"In one minute," said Grandad. "But the nest comes out first, and the eggs with it, and she'd never come back to them." He looked at the wren. The wren looked at him. "There it is. The light needs that box. She needs that box."
"She was here first," said Rosie.
"She was," said Grandad. "And Bram's still out there."
Nobody had an answer. The water slapped the pier, patient as anything.

Age 9 · 214 words
Grandad Wim lifted Lucas up under the arms so that he could see, and Lucas looked for a long time without saying a single word, and then nodded once, like a man agreeing to something.
'Wagtail,' said Grandad Wim, setting him down. 'They'll nest anywhere. Gutters. Tractors. I had one in the pilot hut once, in a boot.' He rubbed his stubble. 'Warm box with a lamp in it and a hole in the corner. If I were a bird I'd have moved in too.'
'She's sitting on eggs,' said Rosie.
'She is.'
'So we can't take it out.'
'No,' said Grandad Wim. 'We cannot.'
'But the light has to work. You said. You said it's for the person who can't see anything.'
'I did say that.'
Rosie looked at her grandfather and understood that he was not going to tell her the answer, possibly because he didn't have one, and possibly because he had decided she was the sort of person who ought to be given a go.
From inside the green glass came a small, cross, scuffling noise, as if the bird had heard the entire conversation and had opinions.
Down on the stones, Comet's left ear unfolded itself and stood straight up, pointing out past the harbour mouth, into the dark.






The characters are inspired by your descriptions and photos rather than being portraits. Your child will recognise herself in the book, but it is an illustration of a girl like her, not a drawing of her face. That is deliberate: face-matching a child raises consent questions we would rather not answer badly.
It takes about ten minutes to make the first one, and you keep it whether or not you ever pay us a cent.
No card, no password. One book to keep, whatever you decide after.