by Judy Gregory

I was in high school when I realised there was fun to be had by writing in other people’s voices. I soon developed a habit of borrowing little hints of the style or tone of whatever author I was reading, and slotting them into my English essays. In Years 11 and 12, I submitted work that nodded to Updike, Orwell, Forster, Waugh, Mortimer, Steinbeck, Hemingway and more. My teacher noticed when I submitted a particularly Hardy-esque piece, and commented that I had ‘talent’ for this type of writing. Today, I have great sympathy for that teacher who had to suffer my pretension!

Of course, imitative writing wasn’t enough to establish a career, so I turned my attention to communication consultancy. Over the years, my work narrowed into writing and editing for the community, government and university sectors. More and more, I felt like a ghost – a crafter of words, but as a writer not an author.

Ghostwriting as a continuum

I see ghostwriting as a continuum – from full ghosting at one end, to structural editing at the other.

When I work as a full ghost, I interview the author and conduct research if needed. I then write the work on their behalf, capturing their style and turn of phrase. In most cases, the author already has some idea of what they want to say (though not always). The easiest projects are built around a contents outline already developed by the author.
When I work as an editor, I’m sent draft work – usually for correction and ‘polishing’. What I typically do is pull it apart and paste it back together again. I help the author find their key message and structure their ideas as clearly as possible. Sometimes it’s difficult to retain the author’s voice in these projects, particularly if we don’t meet face-to-face. Some authors don’t manage to capture their own voice on a page, and it’s my job to find it.
In the middle of the spectrum are the projects where a client has written part of a book or article and has somehow got stuck. Sometimes they realise their work isn’t great, but don’t know why. Sometimes they get lost in the detail and can’t create something readable. Sometimes they simply run out of time. In these projects, I start with whatever the client already has, and work from there – often as a hybrid editor/researcher/writer.

It’s not my work

One of the traps with ghostwriting is getting attached to the work. I’m the writer, but I need to remember that I’m not the author. I have no ownership of the content, and I don’t make the final decisions. This is both liberating and ego-crushing.

It’s liberating because it frees me to write what the author wants (or needs), without becoming attached to the work. Any time an author takes the work in a direction that I don’t much like, I simply remind myself that it’s not my work. I don’t feel judged by the work because my name isn’t on the cover. Better still, I’m being paid for my time!
It’s ego-crushing because the author (quite rightly) sees the work as their own and sometimes it’s tricky to listen to an author talk about their work. An author who says ‘where I discuss …’ or ‘I hope I’ve made it clear that …’ might have me silently answering ‘well, I made it clear for you’! The point here is that you shouldn’t become a ghostwriter if you crave recognition.

Join Judy Gregory and co-host Michael Collins in their upcoming online workshop with Queensland Writers Centre, The Art of The Invisible Writer!

Ghostwriting: The art of invisible writing