‘A ghostwriter, eh? What’s that like then?’
I’ve been asked that question more than once.
My usual answer is that it’s not a profession to even worth considering if you have something of a delicate ego.
Think about it. A ghostwriter is the shady character who is commissioned, either directly by a publisher or by the subject themselves to write their life story for them. And, certainly as far as the business of books is concerned, its a growth industry, thanks, in the main part, to that very strange 21st century thing, the cult of celebrity.
Like it or not, there have never been more opportunities for someone to be well known, a figure in the public eye and mainstay of the red tops and trashy mags as well as TV executives looking for a quick fix on any given weekday evening.
Nooky Island, The None Show, Strictly No Dancing and The Great British Cake Off. All of them and more. Programmes written and produced with the prime purpose of promoting and enhancing the careers of the people who appear on them rather than the subject matter itself.
Why do you think so many TV programmes today include the presenters name in the title?
Simple. Because its the presence of that name within the show that will guarantee an audience. Take one of Amazon’s most recent and successful shows for example.
If it’s title had been The Farm, no-one would have watched it.
But call it Clarkson’s Farm and thankyou very much, there’s your regular audience of several million viewers every week.
Jeremy Clarkson’s Farm Shop. If his name was not associated with it, the number of customers in this queue would be the number of customers it had in a week (Shutterstock)
No-one is really that interested in farming. But because he might crash his combine into a lamp post or offend a rambler or two, people will tune in en-masse to watch it happen.
Let’s be honest. Amazon could have made a programme called Clarkson’s Logarithmic Tables and it would have been their number one show.
Britain’s leading publishers haven’t been slow to pick up on the cult of celebrity.
They’ve figured that the countless millions who choose to watch people who were once famous fall over on some ice or make a bit of a fool of themselves in a kitchen might just want to read about them as well.
So, as if by magic, their autobiography appears.
Being sick on Made In Putney one week, at number one in the WH Smith book charts the next and gathering dust in a charity shop by week three.
But making a publisher as well as the subject a lot of money in the short time both book and subject are squarly featured in the public eye.
A must-have one week, a must-go the next. The star of Brummie Shore is no more.
It’s the job of the ghostwriter to put it all together, to write the book. If he or she is lucky, they’ll get to spend some time with the subject, getting as much information as they can from them about their lives, taking myriad notes and, over time, having enough material for a 60’000 word manuscript.
If they’re not so lucky, they’ll have to rely on archive material and stories shared about the subject by friends, relatives and one time aquaintances.
But the end result will still be the same. He or she has their name and picture plastered all over the front and rear covers of their beautifully produced book and everyone will congratulate them on ‘their book’ as they attend the signings and other events put on to promote it.
The subject will, of course, bask in all of the attention and say ‘thankyou SO much’ to each and everyone of them, happy to be in receipt of so much praise for the book he or she didn’t write and, in all likelihood, hasn’t even read through-that’s why they have people, people!
Their ghostwriter will, of course, by now, have moved onto their next project. And not even forgotten, as they were never there to be thought about in the first place.
Which is why, as a ghostwriter, you can’t have an ego. Because if you do, it’s likely to be easily bruised.
There are books available, right now, on Amazon for example, that I wrote. But my name isn’t on the cover and I don’t, for obvious reasons, promote or market them as my own. Because even if they are…they aren’t. That’s just how it is and I accept that.
Life in the shadows for the ghostwriter (Shutterstock)
But I’ve been luckier than most in my profession. Several of the people I’ve worked with have been more than happy to share the credit for the writing of their book with me.
Acts of kindness as well as an acknowledgement of the part I played and my craft for which I will always be grateful.
One of my favourites, a lovely lady whose company and friendship I cherished (Tidbury Photography)
So, where were we?
‘A ghostwriter, eh? What’s that like then?’
Ah yes. I remember.
Well. It’s hard work. The people you work with are all very different, all very complex and all have, without exception, demands on their time which means you can’t always see them as often as you’d like to. They can also be very demanding of you. But that’s good, as I am very demanding of myself anyway.
That makes for a potent mix which will usually result in a very good book.
But, for all that, it’s never ‘your’ book, no matter how much time and work you might have put into it.
The process behind it and the privilige of sharing someones entire life with them is, however, completely and utterly priceless. And more than makes up for the fact that my ego might, in the process, occasionally, take a knock when all the praise for the book and attention is lavished on the person I’ve been working with.
But hey.
I’m a ghostwriter.
And I love it.