Why us
The only service here that will tell you no
There are a dozen places that will take your money for a eulogy. Here is what we do that they do not — and the one thing we do that costs us work.
Six things we do differently
We check before we charge
Every other service takes your money and then finds out whether it can meet your date. We check the date first. If our schedule is full, you keep your money and your time — which is worth more.
A person, named in the contract
Written by a human being who reads what you sent. This is a term of our Terms of Service rather than a slogan: break it and you are owed a full refund. Few services will put that in writing.
Prices before conversations
Half this industry hides prices behind a consultation call. Every figure is on our pricing page, fixed, with the word count and turnaround beside it. You will never be quoted a different number later.
Work you can read first
Six complete pieces on our examples page — not excerpts, not descriptions. Judge the writing before you spend anything, which is the only sensible way to buy words.
Your words stay yours
Never published, never shown as an example, never reused. We wrote our samples for invented families rather than ask a grieving one for permission to display theirs.
Written to be spoken
Everything arrives print-ready in large type with speaking guidance — where to pause, how fast to go, what to do if your voice goes. Written for a lectern, not a page.
Why we turn work away
A funeral date cannot move to suit a writer's schedule. So before we take a penny, a person checks whether we can do your piece properly in the time you have. If we cannot, we say so and you pay nothing.
This costs us orders every week. We do it because the alternative is worse: taking payment from someone in the first week of grief and delivering something rushed, or late, for the one occasion that cannot be rescheduled. No refund repairs that.
On the matter of AI
You could put your memories into a chatbot tonight and have a eulogy in forty seconds. It would be grammatical, warm-sounding, and about nobody in particular. It would use the word "beacon". It would tell the room your mother lit up every space she entered, which is true of everyone and therefore true of no one.
What a writer does is choose. Of the forty things you tell us, three belong in the piece and thirty-seven do not, and knowing which three is the entire craft. The teacup rather than the kindness. The eleven years of mornings rather than the word "devoted". That judgement is what you are paying for, and it is the one thing that cannot be generated.
What we are not
We are not grief counsellors and we do not offer therapy — if you need support of that kind, our grief resources page points to organisations that do it properly and mostly for free. We are not a funeral director and we do not arrange services. We write. That is the whole of it, and we would rather be good at one thing than adequate at five.
Judge us on the writing
Not on this page. Read six complete pieces, then decide.