When people ask me why I ghostwrite, they’re usually under the common misconception that being a published author automatically means you’re rich. Although there are rare moments of instant wealth in publishing, Tara Westover’s Educated and David Goggins’ Can’t Hurt Me come to mind, for the most part book writers are like actors. Most do something else to pay the rent. I’m the author of six published books and counting and though advances have had me flush during brief stretches, I’ve done all sorts of things to keep the sheriff from the door, including stringing for the New York Times, teaching memoir writing to lonely hearts, and working as a carpenter’s assistant in Trump Tower.
So, I thought I’d share my path to becoming a ghostwriting.
It was by accident. A literary agent friend asked if I’d help a well-known talk radio personality write his book (NDAs force me to be vague). Desperate for cash, I jumped at the chance. Turned out to be the job from hell.
This radio guy had built his career on being acerbic, which came naturally. He made me audition by writing two sample chapters, nearly 10,000 words, despite my having already written five books, been reviewed in the New York Times, and done the morning show circuit. I wrote the chapters and passed his test, but that was just the beginning. He paid chapter-by-chapter, with each one serving as an audition to keep the job. If he didn’t like a chapter, I got fired and didn’t get paid. He also routinely forgot or delayed payments for accepted chapters. He fired me halfway through and took months to pay what he owed me. My first ghostwriting job was a disaster.
But it was the best thing that ever happened to my career. The publisher’s editor spotted my name in track changes on the manuscript. We’d been friends years earlier, and she’d followed my writing career. She had two books needing ghostwriters, a dog training book and one by a well-known politician (more NDAs). She hired me for both, launching a seven-year relationship spanning twelve books, five of which became New York Times bestsellers. My projects were like planes at LaGuardia backed up to the terminal.
A couple years ago, my editor friend moved on and the gravy train ended. By then I’d connected with other ghostwriters and secured some independent jobs, but I knew I needed to find another editor or do something drastic. For me, drastic meant social media.
I had a friend help build this website and started blogging. I’m having fun and slowly increasing my footprint, but haven’t seen real results yet. I’ll keep you posted.
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