Can you tell us about your book?

Just as my book, Six-Figure Freelancing: The Writer’s Guide to Making More Money, was a guidebook for self-employed writers who wanted to work more efficiently, Goodbye Byline, Hello Big Bucks: The Writer’s Guide to Making Money Ghostwriting and Coauthoring Books is a roadmap for book authors and freelancers who want to add ghostwriter/coauthor to their writing resumes. It addresses everything from what types of clients to pursue, what qualities you must have a successful ghostwriter, and how to pitch potential clients as well as how to negotiate fees, work with clients, address common problems that arise during the process, and take advantage of the growing demand for talented ghostwriters.

What exactly is a ghostwriter? Is it always writing for a high-profile figure like a celebrity or politician?

To my mind, a ghostwriter is anyone who writes without a byline. Sure, some ghostwriters do high-profile books, but most work for “everyday” clients including subject matter experts who want to publish a book in their specialty and people who want to publish a book but lack writing skills or time to do so.

If you ghostwrite a book, do you need to sign an agreement that you won’t tell anyone who really wrote the book? If so, can you use the book as one of your publishing credits when applying for other projects?

It depends on the client. Some insist on confidentiality agreements and you may not be able to use it as a credit in the future; other clients recognize/acknowledge their ghosts (such as in the acknowledgments) and are fine with you using their work as samples.

Can you make good money ghostwriting? How do the deals usually work out? For example, do you get a flat fee, or a portion of the advance and royalties, etc.?

Yes, you can make good money—otherwise I wouldn’t be doing it! Seriously, again, it depends on the client. Many want to pay a flat fee while others will agree to a percentage of the advance/royalties. However, if your client is working with a traditional publisher (as opposed to doing print-on-demand or self-publishing), you want to make sure you’re protected if a book fails to sell or garner the advance you’re hoping for. I’ve had clients that paid half the advance/royalties for a deal that was already in place, clients that have paid a flat fee for all rights, and clients that have paid an hourly rate.

What kind of experience do you need to become a ghostwriter?

If you’re going to be ghosting books, you really need to have a book or two under your belt. (Keep in mind, though, that ghosts also write speeches, articles, blog posts—you name it.) It also helps to have experience in the subject matter you’re writing about. This is where experience as a freelancer writing about certain topics—say, business or health—can help you nab ghosting gigs as well.

What are the pros and cons of ghostwriting versus writing for magazines or writing your own books?

I think the biggest pro is that you’re able to make more money per-hour because you’re not responsible for selling the book when it comes out, which is the most time-consuming part of book publishing—at least if you want to do it well. Personally, I like the collaborative aspect of ghosting as well, and really enjoy working with smart people to help get their books in print. One of the challenges (I hate to say it’s a “con” because I like the challenge) is that you have to remember you’re writing a book for someone else—and that means doing what your client wants, writing in your client’s voice, and keeping your client’s needs and wants first and foremost.

What is ghostwriting really like? How much input does the author (that is, the person who will have her name on the book) have? How closely do you work with the author, the editors, etc.?

Again, it depends on the project. I’ve ghosted a book where I did almost all of the writing and research myself, following a very brief outline from the client. I’ve done other projects where the my clients did a fair amount of writing themselves, and I worked that into the book. If you’re working for a client who had a traditional publisher, you work with the editor on the final manuscript along with your client; if you’re working with a client who is self-publishing or using POD, there’s usually no editor involved.

Where can a freelancer find ghostwriting opportunities? Do you need contact an agent that scouts for people needing ghostwriters, or do you approach potential authors directly?

It depends on the type of client you’re seeking. If you specialize in a particular subject area, look for experts who are well-known in their fields yet haven’t written a book yet. Book publishers, book packagers, and literary agents all use ghosts as well, so you should have a LOI (letter of introduction) you can use to introduce yourself. And not to plug my book, but I have a whole chapter about the most lucrative clients for ghostwriters, pros and cons of working with each, and advice about how to contact and pitch them.

What are the top two pieces of advice you would give a writer who would like to get into ghostwriting?

Number one, think about the subjects you already know about and position yourself as a ghost in those subjects. Most of my ghosting and coauthoring (the latter, your name appears on the book) has been in the health/fitness/nutrition field because that’s what I specialize in. Use what you have to set yourself apart from the pack.

Number two, set your ego aside. It’s not your book—it’s your client’s. Even on coauthored books, I always refer to the book as “your book” when I’m speaking to my client. Would it exist without me? Nope, but I don’t remind the client of that. And I truly don’t care if my name isn’t on the book, as long as I’m proud of my work and have been paid well (or at least fairly) for it.

Whenever I’ve been tempted to feel sorry for myself after what feels like a brutal rejection, I think “It could be worse: I could be trying to make a living in Hollywood.” I think about what Jennifer Aniston must have felt like when a casting agent told her she needed to lose 20 lbs. before she’d ever get hired. I imagine what actors like Danny DeVito, Peter Dinklage, or Paul Giamatti have heard during auditions. (“Too short!” “Not handsome enough.” “You? Leading man? Haa!”)

Over the last month, I’ve been riding a tidal wave of rejection with a book proposal my agent’s shopping around. I’ve heard everything: my book’s got too much research, my book’s not researched enough, there’s not enough memoir, there’s too much memoir, I’m too defensive, I need to be more strident, etc. (Luckily, everyone seems to like my writing, which is a very big bright spot!)

I have to admit, though: all that rejection started getting to me. Yeah, me with my crocodile hide! I began to doubt my writing, my talent, my marketability. In my defense, I wallowed for less than a day. Something in me snapped, and I started thinking about how hard it must be for a young actress to keep showing up for auditions, only to be told, “You’re too heavy,” or “We want someone with blond hair,” or “If you were five years younger, you’d be perfect for this commercial!” My rejections were a cake walk in comparison! It made me wonder: do actors really have it harder than writers?

I asked this question of novelist (and magazine writer) Allison Winn Scotch, who just happened to be an actress in a past life. She kindly answered my question on her blog last week, and it seems like my view of rejection is valid: rejections could be much worse.

What do you think? Would you rather be told your writing isn’t worth enough of a magazine’s ink (in writing) or that your eyes are too close together (to your face)? How do you console yourself when you find yourself getting rejection after rejection? Add your comments below!

– Diana Burrell (follow me on Twitter!)

Sarah wrote:

Hi Linda, I have a question and didn’t know who else to ask. I am an accomplished magazine freelancer who has been approached by a semi-public figure to co write a book. However, he doesn’t want to pay me at all, even though writing a proposal and a book would be a ton of work. He says I could just get half of all the royalties. But this doesn’t seem right, and I have no idea how this works. Also, if the book does well, I could get famous, so that’s a reason I don’t want to immediately turn this down…it could be great for my career and lots of writers have approached HIM saying they want to write a book w/him. Should I stand firm about getting paid for my up front work? Thank you, thank you!

My answer:

Sarah, don’t do it! Dangling the idea of future fame and fortune in front of a writer is the oldest trick in the book. What’s great for your career is not writing for free in hopes of some future payout — it’s getting paid for the work you do now. You should get paid for the proposal and you should get a portion of any of the advance and royalties. Another option is that you get paid a flat fee for the proposal and the book and little to none of the advance and royalties. If this celeb is so certain the book will be a hit (which he must be or he wouldn’t be offering you royalties) why doesn’t he pay you now and then make up for it out of his massive royalties later?

I’m not a ghostwriting expert, so please do further research on contract/payment options.

Please come back and let us know what happens! [lf]

When I got the project, I was coming off of a four-month famine, and I needed the dough. So I ignored the red flags. First, the expert co-author took so long playing hardball with the publisher that the deadlines were crunched. Then, she insisted on being the point of contact with the publisher, even though she had never written a book for a publisher before. (With this type of project, the writer is usually the point of contact.) Finally, she set deadlines for the chapters that were way earlier than the publisher’s deadlines — and even wanted Eric and me (my husband was also on the project) to write five chapters within 10 days — when we didn’t even have a finalized table of contents from the publisher.

But the lure of money was strong, and I thought, “I can do anything for three months.” Thereafter followed a month of what can only be called hell. I won’t even get into it here.

I spent last Tuesday evening on the verge of tears, and suddenly I decided: I quit! I’m done. This project is over. I sent our agent an e-mail (it was after hours so I couldn’t call and I wanted to do it right away), and that was it.

I should also mention that while I was working on this project, I got a ton of other work…probably more than 10 magazine assignments. Three of them paid more than one-fifth of what the entire book was to pay, and these articles were only one-hundredth the length of the book.

Before you start throwing things at me, let me say that I’ve reformed. I had a goal meeting with two writer friends the day after I quit the book project, and one of them convinced me that from now on, I’ll take on only projects that I love — and that pay well. I’m currently working on a proposal with my life coach for a book I would actually want to buy myself.

This writer friend also reminded me that I’ve been writing full-time for 12 years, and that I’m a pro. I don’t need to scrape the bottom of the writerly barrel for money. Even though I have famine periods like everyone else, the assignments generally come flowing in without my even having to query anymore.

So: Have you ever ignored red flags and taken on an assignment because you needed the money? What happened? Please share your experiences in the Comments section below! [lf]

I did a little research on book doctors, found someone who looked good, then did my due diligence by asking some trusted writer friends for their opinions. I talked to one friend on the phone who said, “Diana, she’s great — but I don’t think you need her. Let me look at your proposal. Maybe I’ll see something that can be easily fixed.”

I felt my heart race, my cheeks flame. “Okay,” I said weakly. I sat there after the call feeling a bit ill. It had nothing to do with my friend being an amazing writer, someone who gets her essays selected for The Best Food Writing compilations and whose third book is coming out next year from a major publisher. I can take criticism from the best of them.

What it was is that I hate hate HATE asking friends for help. I don’t mind paying for help, thus why I was ready to shell out $500 for a book doctor, but ask a friend to read 50 pages of (what I thought was) sheer drivel? I’d rather pull my own toenails out, thank you. Maybe it’s the eldest child syndrome, or that I’m an incorrigible control freak or that I think, “They’re busy with their own work, they don’t have time to help me.” I’m simply more comfortable helping someone than to be the one accepting help. In my moments of utter self-honesty, though, it has mostly to do with an excess of pride.

I did it. I fought the urge to “forget” sending the file and I sent it. For many of you this might be a “What’s the big deal? Whoopie … you asked a colleague to read your work.” But it was a revelation for me. I’ve been thinking about how, in a way, not asking for help is selfish and keeps a relationship unbalanced. Asking for help is a sign of strength, not weakness. If you’re always doing the giving, it doesn’t give your friends or colleagues the chance to give back. The relationship becomes a one-way street, with the chronic giver in this quasi-Godlike benefactor role while the chronic receiver gets stuck playing the mere mortal.

I’ve decided that I’m going to lower my guard and start asking for more help. So my writing friends out there, watch out.

How about you? Do you have a hard time asking friends to critique your work and such? How do you handle it? Add your comments below. [db]