Once your book has been given life and sailed out into the world to seek its fortune (and hopefully yours), there is no way of knowing whose hands it will end up in. Just occasionally, however, a bit of feedback arrives which takes you completely by surprise.
An email arrived in my inbox from the address of a well-known publisher. That’s always a moment that lifts the heart for a few hopeful seconds.
I opened it to find a short message from an editor to tell me that he was about to publish Robert Harris’s latest novel, which was going to be called The Ghost.
‘The central character is a ghostwriter and Mr Harris would like to quote your ghostwriting handbook at the start of each chapter.’
Robert Harris had read my handbook on ghostwriting? That was a concept that took a bit of getting used to. I was so shocked I said ‘yes’ before I’d even thought of asking for any money. The kind publisher sent me a copy of the manuscript and it was brilliant – it was Robert Harris for heaven’s sake. He had caught the ghostwriter’s world exactly. He opened every chapter with a quote from my book, starting with: ‘Of all the advantages that ghosting offers, one of the greatest must be the opportunity that you get to meet people of interest.’
Finding himself writing about a profession of which he knew little he had ordered a few books on the subject for research purposes. Mine had managed to catch his imagination and had helped him to picture the world of his leading (and unnamed) character.
Harris’s book was controversial from the start because the media assumed that the other main protagonist – a former Prime Minister who had dragged the country into a fruitless war on the coat-tails of America and was now having his autobiography ghosted – was based on Tony Blair. It was well known that Harris had been a big supporter of Blair at the beginning but had become deeply disillusioned over Iraq (along with most of the country). Harris doggedly, and unconvincingly, denied the connection.
The publisher threw a mighty launch party in a stately club in St James’s, packing it with famous media faces. Having been a BBC reporter before he was a bestselling author, it is quite possible that Harris is the best-connected novelist in the country.
Things went up a gear when Roman Polanski expressed an interest in turning it into a film. Ewan McGregor was cast as the ghost (no complaints there), and Pierce Brosnan was to play the Prime Minister. (I doubt if Tony Blair had any complaints about that particular bit of casting either, even though it was strongly denied that the Prime Minister character was based on him. What man would complain about being portrayed by James Bond?)
Another gale of publicity hit the film during production when Polanski was put under house arrest for the statutory rape charge that had been keeping him out of the States for more than 30 years. He and Harris continued to work on the film together from Polanski’s chalet in Gstaad.
At a press preview of the final film in a private Soho cinema my wife leaned across to me after only a few minutes.
‘Ewan McGregor’s saying all the same things you say,’ she whispered.
Damn, should have asked for a fee.