How I choose ghostwriting clients
Imagine that you were going to select a work partner who would take up half your time and generate half your income for the next year. How would you choose?
Very carefully.
That’s the situation when I ghost write. One book is half my income and takes up half my time for six months to a year. I love writing, and that includes ghostwriting. When it’s good, it’s great. But if it’s bad, it’s awful, and very hard to get out of; it’s quite a mess if you stop halfway, and you’ll leave a very unhappy client around to badmouth you.
Here’s how I choose
Here are the criteria I use, in order of importance:
- Do I like the book idea? At the end of a year, there will be a book to point to. Would it be something I’d be proud to have worked on? That means it should be a big idea that going to help a lot of people and make a positive impact on the world. That might include saving the planet, rescuing our politics, helping people start companies, or explaining the benefits of a new technology. It’s not going to include treating workers like chattel or how to go viral on TikTok. (Last year, I turned down a billionaire’s book project because I didn’t agree with his philosophy on work; that book has since become very successful, but working on it would have corroded my soul. Not worth it.)
- Do I like the client? I’d rather work with people I like over the long term. My last book project was intense and far more work than I expected, but the client and his team were fantastic, skilled, smart people who were a joy to work with. That was a year well spent, and one where I could end every day with a smile.
- Can I do a good job for you? Every ghostwriting job requires learning and research. The client is the expert, not me. But there are limits to what I can write. You want to write about the impact of AI? I certainly know enough to help you. Digital marketing? Yes. The evolution of media? Absolutely. Statistics? Yup, I’m qualified. But I’m not going to ghostwrite about your experience as a woman in a man’s business world (an actual project I turned down), because that’s pretty far outside my experience. I’m also not going write about veterinary science or growing up in Nebraska for the same reason.
- Can you pay what I charge? I don’t work on projects of this size pro-bono. If you’re going to pay half my income for the year, that’s a significant chunk of change. But the price is less important than the book idea and the client; I wouldn’t take on a highly lucrative project that I thought I’d hate.
- Can we put a productive process in place? There are a lot of elements to that. First off, ghostwriting clients need to spend a lot of time on conversations with me; I can’t do this without your help. We need some sort of sane review cycle, and you need to provide feedback both with marked-up text and in a meeting where I can ask you questions. If there are seven people reviewing the manuscript on your end, that’s probably going to bog down the process, since I’ll become a traffic cop and trial judge as I manage the reviews. No project is perfect on this front; I’ve often managed complex creation, research, and review processes, and I can account for that by charging extra for it. But if your typical modus operandi is random and chaotic, I’m not a good match.
- Are your expectations realistic? I will deliver a great book. But the amount it sells is up to you and your promotional plan. I can’t guarantee a New York Times bestseller, because what you do influences that more than what I do.
- Can I get billing? I’d love to be credited as “with Josh Bernoff” on the cover, but that’s not a dealbreaker.
What doesn’t matter
I don’t care about your politics (unless you regularly publish hateful things).
I don’t care about your gender, race, national origin, or sexual preferences (unless those are the topic of your book).
I’m happy to work with you if you prefer a traditional publisher, a hybrid publisher, or self-publishing. In fact, I’ll be happy to connect you with publishers and recommend publishing partners. Of my last four ghostwriting projects, three were hybrid published, and one was with a traditional publisher. That didn’t change much in the work I did.
How to get started — and keep your options open
I don’t generally dive right into a ghostwriting contract. When I do, there’s always an escape clause that applies near the start of the contract.
I am likely to work with you first on idea development, a table of contents/book plan, and a sample chapter. (Yes, you’ll pay for those.) Once we do that, we’ll know if this is going to work. If not, either of us can parachute out of the project before the heartache starts. I’ll refer you to other ghosts, regardless of the reason that things didn’t work out.
One more thing
This isn’t my first book, but it probably is yours.
That means . . .
I know more about what works and what doesn’t in books than you do.
I know more about publishing than you do.
I know more about book production than you do. (Hell, I used to run a book production operation.)
I probably know more about book promotion than you do.
A lot of that information is in my book, but there’s lots more in my brain. Whatever situation you’ll find yourself in during this project, I’ve probably encountered it.
(On my most recent book project, as different situations arose the project manager kept saying, “How did you know that was going to happen?” Dude, I got grey hairs learning this stuff.)
Nobody realizes that’s part of what they’re getting with an experienced ghostwriter, but it always is. And I’m happy to provide advice about it.
Because I want this book to succeed just as much as you do.