No matter what profession you want to break into, this is a lesson worth taking to heart.
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As I strive to break into the world of ghostwriting, a key part of my strategy is to network with current ghostwriters.
It would be easy to play up this field as one big secret society. A cabal of writers who must chose you first before you can join. Or better yet; perform amazing feats of writing to prove oneself a worthy ghost.
None of that is true.
Simply search “ghostwriters + (insert city)” and a list of highly qualified ghosts will appear. There will also be a list of “quality ghostwriters” for $300.
That. Is. A. Lie.
One thing I have learned is that quality work does not come cheap, no matter what Upwork, Craigslist, or People Per Hour will claim.
But I digress.
Ghostwriters are not secretive either. I’ve joined a group on LinkedIn and they’re very talkative about the business, always eager to give advice.
I sent about six emails, I think, the last one devoid of tact — why do you ghostwrite?
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Through some odd circumstances, however, I came across a ghostwriter with some ten years of experience. He wasn’t part of the LinkedIn group, despite having heard of them. When I googled his name and midwestern city, he did show up. His website was full of testimonials and confident prose about his skills. And he just so happened to be a veteran of the niche I’m looking to break into; the learning and development industry.
My curiosity prompted me to write him an email. I’ll call him Casper in the interest of anonymity.
It was a general type request; how’d you start, any advice, how’d you get into your niche?
To my surprise, he wrote back within a day.
His answers were interesting, nothing dramatic. His warm tone prompted me to send another message, asking more pointed questions.
I sent about six emails, I think, the last one devoid of tact — why do you ghostwrite?
This last one got the longest response, and easily the best answer so far in our correspondence. Here is what he wrote:
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“The why isn’t so important as the who that I’m writing for.
My parents were teachers. Due to their vocation, they had teacher friends. Whenever they would socialize, outside of their work, it meant a lot of teachers getting together and telling stories about their successful students and the frustrating ones.
A common theme throughout all of this was the need for better schools. Not just textbooks or materials, but a better way to run schools.
Honestly, I didn’t realize this until after graduation, working for an advertising agency out of New York. Because of my experience with teachers, I was made the manager of an ad campaign we were doing for a charter school there.
This charter school was touting the newest ‘teaching wonder’ at the time. Something with a psych doctor’s name on it. This was supposed to really click with the students, make them want to learn and make teaching a breeze.
Out of shame I won’t tell you what the campaign was, but five years later it was obvious the stuff we sold for them wasn’t doing the job.
The charter school fell through a short time later.
It was about a year after that, probably, I happened to run into one of the assistant principals of the school.
By this time in my career I’d lost my interest in writing copy. It didn’t help that I was doing about nine projects at the time, and for less money.
But that’s not important.
Somehow I was integral to all that. Me? I wanted to chase that feeling.
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I met this AP, her name was Linda, at a networking event. She was there trying to find connections for she was still without a job in education. Because we recognized each other, we ended up getting coffee after the event. This small diner, with the worst coffee, was where I’d accidentally landed my first contract as a ghostwriter.
Linda had seen how this ‘teaching wonder’ had failed, the problems with it, why it wasn’t working. More important than that, she saw how it could work and why. She explained to me that the original goal and been to make it easier on the students. Come up with some sort of ‘memory trick’ to absorb vast amounts of information.
The true goal, she said, shouldn’t have been read and regurgitate. It should have been finding how to tailor the process to students. Most of the methods were sound, they just needed tweaking.
Unfortunately, because the charter school had tanked, no one was going to near that curriculum again.
I mentioned a few people who could help her, offering to introduce her. I’ll save you the specifics, but I somehow ended up offering to write a book, explaining the faults with the old curriculum, where it could be improved upon, and methods for tailoring the curriculum to the different learning styles. This book was meant to be the foundation of Linda’s pitch to textbook publishers, school districts, and maybe some more charter schools.
I didn’t get paid much for that first contract as I was working more or less pro bono.
The book went on to help Linda sell the idea to textbook publisher. Despite not making much money off the book itself, Linda kept thanking me for all the hard work I’d put in, even claiming it was the book that had ‘gotten us to the winner’s circle.’ This book, as she claimed, had proven to the gatekeepers of the company that she knew what she was talking about. She went as far as to say that without the book, she doubted she’d been nearly as successful.
I was glad.
And also surprised.
My name wasn’t on it. I just did the writing. Linda was the brains and the true author. She acknowledged me as an ‘editor’ inside the book somewhere, and that was it. With this book she’d gone on to do what she’d wanted to.
Somehow I was integral to all that. Me?
I wanted to chase that feeling.
Since then, and there’s been some low points along the way, I’ve been chasing that feeling. It comes when I complete a book for someone similar to Linda and I end up holding onto that feeling as long as I can. It’s not a narcotic, or an adrenalin kind of thing. I might need to hire a ghostwriter to put it into words, but it’s something else.
These people who truly have the knowledge, experience, and the drive to change schools and education, those are the people I want to help. Sure, I get paid to do this and I’m extremely blessed by that. But getting a paycheck pales in comparison to knowing that I silently helped along genuine change.
Casper would go on to assure me that I, too, could one day be writing for those who could bring about genuine change.
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When my parents found out what I was doing both my mother and my father wept with pride and satisfaction. By that point they were about to retire, but I could tell they saw how things were going to change.
As my own mother put it; “I fought the good fight in those trenches, every day I did. Sometimes I felt like I was the only doing my job. But now I know I was just holding the line until better teachers could get trained in better ways to teach. You did that!”
Does that answer your question?”
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Casper would go on to assure me that I, too, could one day be writing for those who could bring about genuine change. He added, emphatically, that there is a huge need out there, just in this industry.
He would keep writing, but he wouldn’t be able to help out everyone.
This conversation left me feeling better about the future. Even though I am still without a contract, I feel emboldened by Casper’s words.
It’s not the why that makes me want to write, it’s the who that I want to help.
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Photo: Getty Images
Thanks for an inspiring story. It’s great to hear that there is another writer out there that finds satisfaction in using the pen to help bring change the world for the better.
Thanks Chris!
I just noticed this place doesnt have an internal LIKE button – wtf? Great article, th a is for the LI group tip.
Thanks Boris!
I’ll see if I can post it there too.