The Life of a Ghostwriter

People ask me what is a ghostwriter, and why does a writer choose this occupation? I will attempt to answer those two questions. It is said that everyone has a book in them. What a ghostwriter does is help people find it. Most ghost-written books are star biographies charting the travails and accomplishments of sportsmen, politicians and celebrities – sometimes celebrity chefs, and there are even a few illustrious novelists who have a ghost tapping away in the wings. When a celebrity, or their agent, employs a ghost, as the flaws, successes and lessons of their life unfold their sense of satisfaction is overshadowed by a vague resentment that they didn't write the book themselves. It looks so easy they often convince themselves that the ghost is merely an amanuensis, not writing, but recording their pearls of wisdom. The publishers are apt to extend the illusion by burying the ghost's credit in the acknowledgements or with a discreet "with" on the title page. It is assumed that it pleases readers to believe their hero's triumphs over the pitfalls and adversaries of life flowed from their very pen. A ghostwriter will normally tape their subject's story. When they are fully conversant with al the facts, they write down a set of questions and start taping again, extracting the finer points and details that will make the story both authentic and gripping. How do you become a ghostwriter? Most I am sure are journalists, and that was certainly my case. After serving my time as a cub reporter in Kent, I had gone to Hollywood aged 23 with the idea of surfing – the waves, not the net – and writing film scripts. I boldly walked into an agent's office to ask for a job and discovered that the English actress Carol White (Cathy Comes Home, Up the Junction) had spoken to the literary agent Jeffrey Simmons and, on his advice, she was looking for help with her memoirs. A meeting was set up. I wrote one chapter and an outline, Mr Simmons set about finding a publisher, and for the next six months I sat beside Carol's palm-fringed pool in Santa Monica with a cocktail glass and a tape recorder. It was a long way from reporting flower shows on the Kent coast. We returned to London for the launch of Carol Comes Home and Mr Simmons became my agent; if a tape recorder is necessary, an agent for a ghostwriter is crucial. Clifford Thurlow