Wills for England & Wales
It has probably been on the list for years. Not because it is difficult — the actual writing takes about the length of an episode of something — but because it is the one important task in adult life with no deadline, no reminder letter, and nobody chasing you for it.
So the problem is almost never the will. It is everything wrapped around the will: the appointment, the phone call, the form that loses your place, the hour you have to decide to spend before you get anything back.
This is written for people who already know they want one and have not managed to start. It says what actually gets in the way, what this removes, and the one part nobody can remove — plus a five-minute version at the bottom, for if today is not the day.
Create free · £79 for the will + lifetime updates
Why it keeps not happening
01
A tax return has a date on it and a fine behind the date. A will has neither. It is the only important piece of paperwork in your life with no deadline, no letter, and nobody chasing — so it loses, every single week, to things that have all three.
02
Writing a will is easy. Deciding to sit down and think about dying for an hour is the hard part, and you pay that before you have anything to show for it. Most tasks give you a bit of momentum in exchange for starting. This one asks first.
03
Book a slot, be somewhere at a fixed time, talk to a stranger, and if you miss it, ring to rearrange. That is three separate opportunities to abandon it, and none of them are the will.
04
You will not have your executor’s middle name, the charity number, or your partner’s surname spelling to hand at eleven at night. A form that loses everything when you go and find them is a form that gets closed.
What this does instead
None of this was designed for anybody in particular. It is what happens when you remove the appointment, the sales call and the subscription from a will, and it turns out to matter most to the people who had bounced off all three.
There is no submit button holding your work hostage. Close the tab in the middle of a sentence, come back in April, and it is where you left it — with the checklist showing which of the five sections are done and which one is next.
The hard one — usually who looks after the children, or what happens if the machines are the only thing keeping you here — can be left blank and come back to. Nothing is blocked behind it.
There is no appointment, no callback window, and no sales team, because there is nothing for them to sell. If you want to do this at two in the morning on a Sunday, that is the whole process.
Every question and every section is free. You pay £79 when you want the finished document to print and sign — once, and every change you make after that is included for as long as you are here.
Nothing here charges you for changing your mind. Rewrite it when someone is born, someone leaves, or the flat sells, print the new one, and sign it again.
The part nobody can smooth away
Section 9 of the Wills Act 1837 has not moved: the will has to be printed, signed in wet ink, and witnessed by two people who are both in the room at the same time and are watching you do it. Neither witness — nor their husband or wife — can be left anything in it, or their gift fails.
This is the step that gets left. It is worth treating as its own ten-minute job rather than the end of the last one: print it, put it somewhere you will trip over it, and ask two neighbours or two colleagues on a day you know you will see them.
Until that is done, however finished it looks on screen, it is not a will. The pack you download says exactly where each person signs, and you can print it again as many times as you need.
If today is not the day
Four things, on your phone, in a note. It is not a will and it has no legal effect on its own — but it is the whole of the thinking, and when you do come back the rest is typing.
No card, no account until you want one · £79 once for the document