A private place for your family’s stories
Your family gets a book, not a login.
Talk for ten quiet minutes. It becomes a hardcover book — with a small code on the page that plays your voice telling it.
Free to start, no card · books from $49 · Giving Kept4 as a gift? · Read the guide
Kept4 asks
“What did your mother’s kitchen smell like on a Sunday?”
This is what your family actually gets — see the real pages below.
The first one off the press
The day the first one arrived.
Jeremy Weeks, who built Kept4, opening the first book off the press.
The code on every page
Don’t take our word for it. Hear one.
A page from a real book
Chop Wood, Fly Planes
Jeremy — who built Kept4 — about his dad
Scan it — it’s realEvery spoken story prints with a code like this one. Fifty years from now, it still plays.
Why families use it
Documents keep things. Kept4 keeps the meaning.
A ring without the story is just a ring. Kept4 holds the voice, the photo, and the why beside the what.
A gentle AI interviewer
Talk through what you want your family to know.
Your Story So Far
Conversations become chapters — and a letter in your own words.
Possessions with their story
Photos, stories, and meaning beside each heirloom.
Private until you choose
Nothing leaves your archive until you share it.
How it works
Three small things. Something worth keeping.
No app to install, no password to invent. If you can answer a question out loud, you can do this — and so can your mother.
Talk for ten minutes
Kept4 asks; you answer out loud, in your own voice. No typing, no blank page waiting for you.
Watch it become chapters
Your words are written up as they were told, and your recording is kept beside them.
Hold the book
Add the photographs, and it prints as a hardcover your family can hold — every spoken story with its code on the page.
The book they’ll hold
This is what your stories become.
Real pages from a finished Kept4 book — a 6×9 hardcover, printed on heavyweight coated paper, with their night sky on the cover and their actual voice behind the small codes.Eleanor Whitfield is a family we invented, so we could show you a whole finished book without opening a real one — every page here is a genuine press file. Yours will be entirely your own.
All 70 pages of Eleanor’s book, exactly as the press prints them.
The youngest voices
Grandchildren can tell their stories too.
Hand a child the phone: questions read aloud, one big button to talk. What they say is kept in their own voice — printed in the book with its own scan-to-hear code.
And for the evenings they’d rather listen: a shelf of Kept4’s own bedtime stories, each read aloud by a warm narrator, pages turning with the voice.
Grown-ups hold the keys. You set it up, and every way out asks for a four-digit code. A child can’t buy anything, share anything, or wander off.
Included in the same plan — there’s no separate subscription for the kids’ side.
See the kids’ side
One complete plan
For your story — or someone you love.
Every plan: full archive, sharing, Lockbox. Lifetime gifts claim privately.
Your first conversation is free on any account, with no card at all — a plan is what keeps the archive going after it.
Faith-friendly. Family-friendly. No boxes required.
Prayers, Scripture, values, and stories — for any family that wants to be understood.
Start with a story of faith →Ready when you are
Start with one story.
One conversation. One photo. One possession. You don't have to finish in a weekend.
A peek at what you’re building
Margaret, 68 — a retired teacher, married to Tom for 42 years, grandmother of five.
To my family,
I'm writing this at the kitchen table on a Tuesday morning, coffee going cold, because I realized last week there are things I've never said out loud — and I'd rather say them now, while we can still argue about them at dinner.
I have had a beautiful life, and I'm still having it. Forty-two years with your father, who still hums when he thinks no one is listening. Five grandchildren who taught me what joy actually feels like. Thirty years of other people's children in my classroom, and every one of them mattered.
The things in this book are just things. But their stories are ours. Tom's gold pocket watch — now you know the morning his father gave it to him. My mother's ring, and what she said the day she took it off. The piano — I can still hear all five of you underneath one lesson. That's what I wanted to keep: not what the things are worth, but what they hold.
…
Generated from Margaret’s answers. Yours will sound like you.