What’s in a Name? Musings of a Ghostwriter

E. Mark Windle 9 March 2022

I wear several hats in my line of work. Over the years I’ve written non-fiction books, blogs and commentaries on music and culture, and contributed to medical and nutrition science texts. There’s a chance if you are immersed in one of these niches that you may have even read some of it. Basically, a body of work exists in the public domain which is accessible and visibly identifiable as mine.

Outside of these independent projects, I’m also contracted as a ghostwriter with UK and North American biography publishing services. The briefs for these commissions are diverse too. Sometimes the end-product (usually a book) is for the client’s private consumption only. Other times, the intention is for publication and sale on online platforms or in brick-and-mortar bookstores. In those cases, I’m destined never to be associated with these works. At least publicly.

New writers are often motivated by recognition, especially early in their careers. Few would deny the thrill of seeing their name in print for the first time, particularly if the work comes with praise or positive reviews. As Maslow would have it, love and belongingness are primal needs. For the newbie creative, this means community acceptance and admiration. There is no shame seeking that out—unless of course that sense of achievement crosses the boundary to cheap vanity.

Maybe that’s the reason why some in the industry struggle to comprehend why anyone would choose to be a ghostwriter. Why pour time, effort and skills into a lengthy book project while surrendering your moral right to be identified with it? Of course, if referring to ghost-writing for A-list celebrities, a healthy advance payment and jaw-dropping royalty deal from a major publishing house may help ease the pain. But those commissions are few and far between.

Admittedly, there is a unique and challenging aspect to this clandestine profession. Non-disclosure agreements and ghost-writing contracts clearly stifle professional self-promotion and marketing opportunities. Prospective clients cannot be offered portfolios easily. If lucky, there are some workarounds. An exclusion clause reserving the right of client name-association on a limited basis might be an option, where prospective clients are able to approach previous ones as a reference. At the end of the day though, the ghostwriter is employed not only for their writing skills but also for discretion. Breach the anonymity agreement, and the writer risks unwelcome contractual or legal consequences. And of course, bang goes the community reputation.

In defending the art of ghost-writing biographies, I reckon ten years in the game has matured my outlook. I’m genuinely intrigued by how upbringing, social circumstance and life events motivate individuals and guide choices in life. These things shape and make us who we are. I also write biographies because I inherently love the research-interview-write process, not because it is a route to public recognition or (solely) a money-making exercise. The ghostwriter’s name may not be in bright lights, but a good one will be recognised, both within the industry and among clients. Ironically, that’s partly because anonymity is a key to success.

Trustworthiness is of paramount importance in the relationship between the ghostwriter and the subject. That is true of any effective collaboration, but particularly of relevance in biography writing where the subject has some standing in society: perhaps they have celebrity status, or are a public figure, a local businessperson, a hero, or even a villain. Clients confide in the writer, offering life story nuggets that may not have been shared with anyone previously until the writer’s inquiry led them there. We are in a position of privilege. Not everything on audio transcripts is intended to appear in print. That said, on occasion the challenge for ghostwriters has been the balance between upholding confidentiality against that of the moral good. We’re writers and to an extent confidants, but legally not bound to a priest-like Seal of Confession.

Some clients have lives stuffed full of intriguing, colourful, dramatic, tragic or revealing events, but have difficulty expressing these through a flowing verbal narrative in interview sessions. Others are more eloquent. All have a worthy tale to tell, none less important than another. The ghostwriter’s role as a creative vessel for their subject is to compose an authentic account of a life story, but also one which truly engages the reader.

In giving out advice (albeit to fiction writers), Raymond Chandler once said: “The challenge is to write about real things magically.” In our genre, the client is the storyteller, but the ghostwriter is the alchemist. The hard graft comes first: extracting experiences and personal recollections in an accurate, meaningful and reflective way, conducting robust peripheral research, fact-checking and cross-examination. The magic comes when the potion is mixed to present a tale which draws in the reader, has accuracy and relevance, educates, life-affirms, delivers optimism, demands empathy, or any combination of these things. The ghostwriter’s ultimate responsibility is to present a life story which has purpose. Regardless of whose name appears on the byline.

Copyright 2021. E. Mark Windle is a freelance writer and biographer, working independently, as a senior writer with Story Terrace (London, UK), and as a writer for Sheridan Hill / Real Life Stories LLC (North Carolina, USA). Contact: via this site or emarkwindle@hotmail.com