I once ghostwrote a book for a man who grew grass for a living, and not the kind you smoke.
I took the project reluctantly and only agreed because he offered me a whole lot of money.
Going into it, I’d convinced myself the months ahead were going to be some of the longest and most mundane of my ghostwriting career. Like doing a book on watching paint dry, I thought.
Boy, was I wrong. A farm boy from Lower Alabama, (LA, as he liked to joke), he discovered a type of grass on a research field that happened to be perfect for growing sod. His discovery coincided with the housing boom in Southern Florida. In the right place, at the right time, the man parlayed his find into a billion-dollar business.
Now, he’s one of the largest sod producers in the world.
Every story has a bit of genius. It’s up to the ghostwriter to find it.
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