Lessons from a failure: Ghost writing pitch

When I pitch myself for a freelance writing or editing job, I almost always win. Why? Because I am selective about the gigs I pursue, have sterling qualifications, and typically come recommended by someone the potential client trusts. But I just lost out on a job — a big one that I really wanted. I usually write about success, but I thought you might benefit from hearing about my failures, too.

I was invited to pitch a ghost writing gig. The prospect was a prominent CEO

Several weeks ago, I heard from contacts at a ghost writing agency I had worked with. The owner of the agency wanted this business, and thought I was an ideal writer for the job.

Before I go on, you should get used to the way ghost writers describe themselves and their clients. The client is referred to as “the author,” and their name goes on the book. The ghost writer is referred to as “the writer,” because they’re the ones doing the assembly and writing of the words.

In this case, the potential client author was the CEO of a prominent company. While I can’t share the name of his company, you absolutely would have heard of it and have likely used its products. This CEO had an amazing personal backstory, and his ideas on management were fascinating. Not only that, he had already pitched the book to publishers and made a publishing deal. Taken together, those qualities made the job irresistible to me.

Ghost writing a whole book at this level is a commitment of six to twelve months. Given my qualifications and track record, I’d be charging a six-figure fee. That level of commitment and compensation comes with risk, and a big job like this crowds out other work, so I’m very selective. But this job looked ideal to me, and seemed like a great challenge that I was well suited to take on.

How I pitched this project

I did all of the following to prepare to win the business:

• Assembled a resume and list of projects, tailoring the latter to demonstrate particular skills that would be useful for this project.
• Reviewed media about the author, to become as familiar as I could with his story. There was a lot of it, and it confirmed that the author was a fascinating person.
• Interviewed with the author on Zoom, and shared what I knew about the challenges he was facing and about my previous ghost writing work. I’ve ghost written two business books and edited a whole lot more, including the soon-to-be published autobiography of another prominent CEO.
• Realized that, in an incredible and fortunate coincidence, one of my most treasured professional friends, who was also an editing client of mine, already had a trusted business relationship with the author. I worried it might violate the author’s confidence to tell my friend he was writing a book, so instead, I suggested that the author contact my friend to hear more. Even without speaking to my friend first, I knew that the author would receive a strong recommendation for me, and I was right.
• Sent the CEO a followup email the next day. He responded positively.
• Asked his admin for his home address, and sent signed copies of books I’d written and ghost written by overnight post, along with a cover note about my desire to do the project.
• Worked with the agency on how to price the job. (The agency insists on doing all the financial negotiations, but the agency and the writer usually collaborate on a pricing proposal.)
• Sent another followup email to the author a few weeks later. Again, the CEO responded positively, telling me I was “top of the list so far.”
• I got indications from the agency that the author wanted to negotiate the price. This was a positive sign of real interest.

The interview

The author’s admin set up a 45-minute in-person meeting for me with the author. At that point, as I learned from the agency, it was down to two people, me and one other writer.

What would happen in that meeting? I felt it was important to prepare. I did the following:

• Requested a copy of the book proposal that the author had used to land the publishing contract, which the agency shared with me. The author had since parted company with the writer who worked on the proposal, because that author couldn’t capture his “voice.”
• Had another, more focused conversation with two people from the agency, to get as clear an idea as possible about what the author needed and what had changed since the proposal.
• Reviewed my notes from the previous Zoom conversation to get a bead on what the author needed.
• Decided to focus, not on my qualifications, but on what I though the book needed, which was a clearer definition of the main idea.

I also got a haircut and beard trim, since I haven’t had an in-person business meeting with a potential client — or anyone else, for that matter — in the last three years of the pandemic. For good measure, I took a COVID test and assured myself that I was negative, in case the author asked.

One good thing about my background as an analyst is that I’ve met with many CEOs of big companies and other prominent leaders, typically in a position where I was going to provide advice. Your attitude in such meetings is key. You cannot be obsequious, or they will not respect you. You cannot be arrogant, or they will be offended. You must be clear and truthful, and if necessary, respectfully challenge people when you think they are wrong. This was the approach I would take with this potential client.

I arrived at the meeting carrying a few of my books, including the two I’d ghost written, and a copy of the author’s previous proposal.

The CEO was very hard to read in the meeting — I think that’s just the way he is. He did ask some questions.

• He asked what process we would use. I mentioned the very different processes that I’d used with other authors and said it would depend on how he preferred to work. Later in the conversation, once I got a bead on the content he’d already created, I described a clearer potential process.
• We talked about his ideas, and how we could work on refining them, as I’d planned. I talked about the shortcomings of the organization of the book that the proposal included, as well as the voice in it.
• He asked about whether the books I ghost wrote were New York Times bestsellers. I told him they weren’t, but said the book I had cowritten on the topic of social media was a bestseller. He asked what it took to be bestseller — I said that it took a great book, a prominent author, great promotion, and luck in timing.
• Of the two books I ghost wrote, one had not been included in the package I had sent to him. He picked up on that, took the copy I’d brought, and asked if it was any good. I told him that it was an interesting idea, but not really practical to implement, which was my honest opinion.

I followed up with an email describing the process I thought was best for the project.

Why I lost

The day after my meeting with the CEO, he emailed to tell me he had selected the other writer.

I was bitterly disappointed, of course.

When this happens, it’s tempting to invent comforting reasons why you lost the business. I considered such reasons, as anyone would. Here are some of them, along with why they are false:

• The agency didn’t pitch me well enough. [In fact, the agency selected and promoted me and answered all my questions in detail. They were an excellent partner, and I’d never have had this chance without them.]
• The guy doesn’t understand what it takes to get a book done. [Of course he doesn’t. It was my task to explain that, and I didn’t do a good enough job at that.]
• He’s too fixated on the New York Times bestseller thing. [Probably. But if that’s what’s important to him, I should have had an answer for that.]
• He must not be all that hot shit of a guy as he appears to be. [Nothing changed except that he turned me down. I thought he was amazing before, and he still is.]
• I used his product recently and it wasn’t so great. His company isn’t so wonderful. [That’s just self-justifying bullshit. One experience with his product doesn’t change the great management job he was doing.]
• He wasn’t serious about me as an option, I was just a fallback. [He had interviewed ten writers and despite a busy schedule, had clearly reviewed my books and spent time in person with me. I had a fair shot. CEOs like him don’t often schedule meetings that are a waste of time.]
• He already dumped one writer, I’m probably dodging a bullet. [Maybe. But the reasons I wanted this job hadn’t changed. If I were given the chance to work with him now, I’d still take it.]
• I guess I suck. [Nah, I’m pretty good, actually.]

These statements are all self-serving, self-pitying excuses. If I let myself off the hook by believing lies like that, I would never grow and learn anything. After four decades as a writer, I know who I am, I know who clients are, and I know how business works. I’m way too experienced to wallow in self-deception.

Looking back, all of things I did leading up to the in-person interview were just right. I wouldn’t change any of it.

I believe I failed in the interview. I should have concentrated more on the process I use to turn authors’ content into books, which is what he was focused on. I should have more clearly explained how my extensive editing work was highly relevant for structuring the ideas in his book. Once he said he was ready to completely move on from the existing proposal, I should have stopped talking about the shortcomings in that proposal. And I never should have criticized a book I ghost wrote. I was too honest and naive and was not thinking strategically about my answers.

I can chalk it up to being rusty at in-person meetings, but in the end, I should have been more focused on what his real problems were. (Salespeople reading this are probably saying, “Duh, of course,” but I’m not really a salesperson, I typically focus on my abilities and how they apply. That has worked because usually the person is sold before they even connect with me.)

I also found out, secondhand, that the other writer has ghost written multiple New York Times bestsellers. If I’d known that, I would have focused on what I believe the author’s real objective should have been — namely, making the biggest impact, not getting on the New York Times list. It would be easy in hindsight to say, hey, how could I compete with another writer with those qualifications? But I still think I am extremely strong on writing and ideas, and I bet the other guy wasn’t an analyst for 20 years. I had a case to make. I didn’t make it. That’s not on the client, the agency, or the competition. That’s on me.

What I learned from this

In my sixties, with seven years freelance experience, I’m still learning useful things about my trade. At this point, I am pretty adept at what I do, but not as adept as I need to be at selling what I do. Here’s what I learned — and I hope these lessons may be useful to to you as well.

• Making excuses for your failures is counterproductive. Wallowing in them is worse. The only question worth asking is, “What did I do well, and what could I do better next time?” Come to think of it, those are the same questions you should ask when you succeed.
• I have grown used to winning these bids easily. In the future, I will assume that there is choice between myself and someone else well-qualified, and will put a level of effort into preparing that is appropriate, given that they might pick someone else.
• I am most comfortable talking about ideas, which is a strength. And I’m certainly good at talking about myself. I should put equal or greater emphasis on talking about what my potential client is concerned about. In this case, that was process and becoming a bestseller — both of which I can address, but failed to address clearly.
• I focus on being honest. (It’s the easiest way answer questions.) I will also focus on understanding why clients ask particular questions, and on which of my potential honest answers would best address their core concerns.

One more thing, dear reader. Please don’t waste time responding to this post with “You should have won, you are talented,” or any of that blah blah blah. I don’t need comforting and I am not lacking in confidence. But if you learned something from this post — or have additional insights on these sorts of failures — I’d love to hear about that.

Have you failed lately? What did you learn?