Most app ideas don’t fail.
They just never ship.

It really is. The Studio and the weekly live Q&A cost nothing, and there's no card to enter and no trial that runs out.

There's no catch, only a business: app development is hard, and when you want a person beside you — every week with the full membership, for six structured weeks in the cohort, or for the whole build — that person is me, and that part is paid. You never have to buy it to finish your app.

A bit, and it's better you hear it now than in week six. The stores charge for the privilege of being in them: Apple is $99 a year, Google Play is $25 once, ever. You'll also want an AI coding assistant — I use Claude Code, which is around $20 a month. Everything else runs on free tiers while your app is small.

Those bills are in your name, not mine, and that's the point: the accounts are yours, the app is yours, and none of it depends on me.

A Mac or a Windows computer, VS Code, and an idea. The Studio sets up the rest of the toolchain on your machine and walks you through connecting each account.

A phone helps too — the app you're building runs on it from early on.

No, but you do need to be hands-on. Most people building in the Studio aren't developers — they're founders who got surprisingly far with AI and hit a wall.

For a Studio Build, not at all. You need to know what the app is for and who it's for. The rest is my job.

Because an agent is excellent at the next step and terrible at the right step. It will happily build you the thing you asked for, forever, without ever telling you that the thing is three features too big or that the architecture won't survive authentication.

The Studio isn't replacing it. I use Claude Code all day. The Studio, and I when you want me, are the part that decides what to point it at.

It usually is, and it usually matters less than people fear. Sometimes you keep it and put structure around it. Sometimes the honest answer is that a rebuild on a proper foundation is faster than untangling it — bring it to the live Q&A and I'll tell you which, with reasons.

A builder export is the common case now. The prototype isn't wasted either way: it's the spec. Get it standing on its own two feet, then get it onto a phone.

A live Q&A on Google Meet, once a week, for anyone with a Studio account. You can ask me whatever you want — about your app, the stores, the code, the business — or just listen to everyone else's questions.

When it is and how to join are inside the Studio. It's free, and please sign up at least half an hour before it starts.

Then I can take it from wherever you've got to. That's a Studio Build: I look at what you have, give you one fixed number for finishing it, ship it, and hand it back into the same Studio you started in, so the next change is still yours to make.

Nothing you did is thrown away, because it was built on the same system I'd have used myself.

A structured six-week programme for a small group: a goal every week, from planning and design through the foundation, your features and security to production, two live calls with me every week, me on hand between them, and the full membership for the six weeks, all aimed at one thing: your app submitted to the App Store and Google Play by the end. It's $499.

It's by application: you apply from inside the Studio, and I'll be in touch to set up a free 30-minute call where we work out together whether it's the right fit.

Scope. $900 is the smallest app the stores will accept: sign-in, a database, both stores and the handover, plus one core feature. Each feature after that is typically $150–$350, and big integrations are quoted separately — there's a worked example on the builds page. You get one fixed number after the call, and it doesn't move unless the spec does.

Payment is normally half on accepting the quote and half on delivery, both by card. The deposit holds your place in the schedule.

No. The Studio is free, so there's nothing to cancel, the full membership is month to month, and the cohort is six weeks and then it's done.

A Studio Build is a fixed price for a fixed scope, and when it's handed over it's handed over — the code, the accounts, the keys. Ongoing maintenance isn't in the price, and plenty of owners take it straight from there.

Either way, nothing you've got depends on me staying in the picture. Every account is in your name and the code is a standard Expo project any developer can pick up.

If you're not a developer, you've got about five options, and I've watched people take all of them.

• An agency. $30,000 to $150,000, and at the end you own something you can't change without paying them again.
• A freelancer. Finding a good one is a gamble, and even when you do, the app lives in their head — when they move on, it stops.
• No-code. Bubble, FlutterFlow, Adalo. Fast to a demo, and then you hit the ceiling — which is theirs, not yours.
• An AI app builder. The new one. It deserves its own section, just below.
• Learn to code it yourself. It can work. But it takes about a year, and most people don't have that kind of time — or access to mentorship.

Kealy Studio is the sixth option. Real code, real infrastructure, every account in your name, an AI agent doing the typing, and the decisions that take a year to learn already made — free to build with, and me in person when you want a hand. You learn enough to maintain the app yourself, or even build the next one. What you own at the end is a standard app, not a subscription to somebody's platform.

If you've built something with one of them, you know the arc. The first afternoon felt like a superpower. Then one prompt broke something three prompts back, the credits went faster than the progress, and somewhere you noticed it was a website in a phone-shaped box — nowhere near the App Store.

There's only one thing these platforms really sell: they hide the code and make the architecture decisions for you. In exchange you live inside their ecosystem and pay them forever, because ejecting is too daunting to try.

But that prototype wasn't wasted. It's the best spec you'll ever write. Bring it into the Studio, get it standing on its own two feet first — then get it onto a phone. And if you skipped the builders entirely? Good. You've saved yourself the eject.

The long version, with the steps: Lovable to a mobile app and Replit to a mobile app.

That's the whole setup: a folder that belongs to you, with something like Claude Code — which I use all day — working inside it. Nothing hidden, nothing off-limits.

Which is where people stall. Every decision is suddenly yours — sign-in, where the data lives, how it gets onto a phone, what's in version 1 — and each one is a week of reading.

That's what Kealy Studio is: those decisions, already made. Expo and Supabase, every account in your name, the awkward parts solved once. If Kealy Studio disappeared tomorrow, your app wouldn't notice: every account is yours and the code is a standard Expo project any developer could pick up.

I can't promise that, and nobody honestly can. What I can tell you is what you end up with: a real app that you own and understand, on a foundation that won't need rebuilding if it takes off.

Some people build to earn from it, others for a business they already run, and some simply because they want the thing to exist. All three are good reasons.