Before the how is the why.
Ghosts do it for three reasons: money, access, praise.
Not public praise, of course, on a book jacket, for instance. But the more intimate nod promised in most contracts: the heartfelt note of gratitude, hidden in plain sight, on a star’s acknowledgments page. That’s right, ghosts are guaranteed such a mention in collaboration agreements, a sweetener to deals that, when they disintegrate, are settled via a “kill fee.”
Sometimes a client forgets to mention you, the person who wrote their book. But this sting is private, and there’s an easy fix. You are often the one to draft the thank-yous to the editorial team in the voice you have been occupying for months. Your editor, aware of all the reasons you deserve credit, contractual and otherwise, simply has you add your name to this list.
What you are celebrating is more than your mimicry. It’s the infinite number of moments in which you’ve inferred just who and how to be. That’s the secret to making it as a ghost. Most people think you have to be a great writer, but no one’s claiming to be Chekhov. You don’t need to be the person who best captures the celebrity’s tone, either, although that’s important. Really, it’s about not judging your clients, whether they’re reality TV divorcées on their way to rehab or the biggest rock stars with the deepest secrets, no matter how dark the memories they divulge or how badly they behave from the stress of deciding on deadline how candid to be; the bond is invisible, but ghosts must be capable of meeting their subjects, always, with unconditional love.
They do love you back. Sometimes. And always, it feels that way for a while, in the heady days just before and after submitting the book. Best is when they include their own, genuine and warm shout-out, mention a shared moment or joke, for which the most devoted superfan would line up overnight in the rain. Since ghosts must work in the shadows, and the job is hard and can fall apart even when you do your best, it’s validating to see evidence of your accomplishments in print. As with any form of intimacy, you can’t help but want an emotional souvenir, a way to capture what happened and carry it with you into the rest of your life.
There are other tricks to be mastered, as with any trade. Be patient, be attentive, be clever (be amusing, if possible), be comfortable being wrong (when some celebrities are ornery, they like a foil—those in their inner circle are easy targets). And maybe, just maybe, you’ll maintain your place in the VIP lounge of life. For most ghosts, such perks are enough. They had always been plenty for this one. But that was before the project that almost cost everything, and gave just as much, by revealing another way to be: wake up and seize a life that’s truly lived, which has deeper value than a spotlight, or a book credit, could ever come close to.
There’s always a collaboration like no other. The one that teaches you whether you have what it takes or not. If you dare to step up, ghosting is far more than a job; it’s a vocation. You must risk everything, maybe even your life, certainly your pride, your assumptions about yourself and others, and the stories you tell about who you are and why you matter. If you pull it off, you will know you are woven into every word on the page, even the consciousness of those you have occupied as a ghost. And yet you will still want, maybe even need, to be acknowledged—
It’s proof you exist.