When I tell people I'm a ghostwriter, the reactions I get are almost universal. The majority nod politely but have no idea what I'm talking about. The rest get really excited for a second and then realise that most of what I do is invisible.

In fairness, anyone I grew up with could never imagine I'd do something without wanting credit for it, and the people who know me slightly less probably think I'm being sarcastic.

You create your own dilemmas in this world, though, so I've only got my past self to blame.

As I bob, weave and parry my way through the same old questions:

"So, what does that actually mean?"

"Wait! You don't get your name on it?"

"Isn't that a Pierce Brosnan film?"

I think to myself, so much for being invisible!

It's not that I don't like attention anymore. I'll still happily shove my work under people's noses and imagine being carried aloft to a literary agent's office, but it's just a different kind of satisfaction.

As a ghostwriter, your job is to help somebody else shine. You're not making someone funny who isn't. You're not fixing something broken. It's never a lie; in fact, I find it's the opposite.

You're helping someone speak their truth and express it in a way they never imagined they could.

And despite appearances, there's enough reward in that to keep me going for a lifetime.

What is ghostwriting?

The dictionary definition is "someone who writes speeches/books/articles for another person who is named as the author."

So, it's writing a piece of work that someone else gets to put their name to.

Don't you get annoyed that no one mentions your name?

No. I define ghostwriting as a creative collaboration where the credits for the work are agreed upon in advance. If I'm doing my job properly, the whole piece will be written in their voice, using their opinions and their ethos – I might not want my name on it anyway, even if our values are aligned.

I’ve also set my expectations from the start.

When does it become a problem?

If I spend hours putting together a piece about my experiences with mental health, and then my boss takes one read of it and is like, "this is great; let's publish it in my name." Then yes, I get annoyed. But I'm experienced enough now to scream into a pillow long before I scream at a person.

When I've regained my composure, I wipe my face, pop the cushion in the wash and have a conversation.

"If you want me to publish my work in your name, that's totally cool, but we need to redraft it, so it's in your voice. Also, next time, please tell me beforehand."

Life, work, everything, is such a smoother ride if you lay your boundaries down early.

Shouldn't people say if they create something themselves or not, though?

I see ghostwriting as a collaboration, especially when you first start working with someone.

If you're hiring a writer, it's their job to extract what's in your brain and get it down on paper.

When the piece is finished, it will be 95% you and 5% writer.

It'll be your voice, values, and experiences. It's your work, not theirs.

So, what does the ghostwriter do?

We ask the right questions.

You have to live in a constant state of curiosity. You put yourself in the reader's shoes and think, what would I want to know next? You have to get inside your client's mind and push as far beyond the surface layer as they're willing to go.

We solve puzzles.

No one tells a story in order, so our job is to reorganise a barrage of thoughts, into something with a clear narrative, in a chronology that makes sense. There's more time spent juggling sentences than writing them.

We write a lot (A LOT) of segues.

So much of being a ghostwriter is conjuring a sentence that links one paragraph to the next. To be a great ghostwriter is to connect two seemingly unrelated thoughts without making people roll their eyes.

"And that brings me on to…"

Cliches.

You have to be ruthless in the edit. There are so many generic phrases that people use when telling a story (I mean, nobody’s perfect).

Whilst they can be sparingly deployed, it's the writer's job to help uncover new ways of saying the same thing.

Can a client just give you a subject and leave you to it?

The longer you work with your client, the more autonomy you can have for sure.

I've worked with a few entrepreneurs for a year at a time, and it does get to the point where they can say, "Stuart, I need an article about X, and I want to mention these things. See you later."

The tone of voice becomes so engrained that the back and forth is reduced to the initial brief and a quick read-through before publishing.

If you're working on a bigger project, like memoirs, for instance, the client needs to be involved as much as possible. There are many ways of minimising this, and that's all down to the planning. But, in short: you can't write the story of someone's life if they're not willing to tell it.

What's the best thing about ghostwriting?

The relationships you form with the subject. You can end up talking to their family members about things they've never discussed with each other, and it can bring people together in such a rewarding way. That type of bond takes a lot of time and trust to build, but when you get there, it's one of the best experiences I've had in my professional life.

You're also receiving a crash course in whatever they're discussing. If you're writing a book, article or speech for an entrepreneur, the lessons you're learning are invaluable. You have a direct source of knowledge, and it's a tap that just keeps pouring.

And, of course, people's reactions to the finished work are always great as well.

Ghostwriting FAQ’s