Splinter of ice in the heart

Ernest Hemingway’s statement: “Writing at its best is a lonely life” is hard to disagree with. When people ask me what I do for a living, I always have to explain myself.

“I am a ghostwriter.”

“A ghost what?”

“A ghostwriter. It means I write books for other people.”

To date I have written 12 books including four Sunday Times bestsellers. They cover genres including celebrity memoir, social history, and misery memoir. Misery memoirs, for those who don’t know, are stories which focus on the author’s unhappy childhood.

The process of ghostwriting begins with an interview. I sit down and I ask questions, keeping events chronological. Writing openly on a notepad can be off putting, as is turning up with reams of questions, so quite often I make it up as I go along, recording everything on a tape machine. Talking is therapeutic. I have listened to remarkable stories including terrible child abuse, tales of rags to riches and stories publishers like to call ‘Triumphing over tragedy’.

In his book Confession of a Ghostwriter fellow ghost Andrew Crofts quotes Graham Greene’s description of every writer needing a “splinter of ice in the heart” and there’s some truth in this.

I have sat and listened dry-eyed — as someone has described being raped as a child or the moment they found their father dead from a heart attack on a kitchen floor — as nobody wants to see their ghostwriter crying. Remaining subjective is part of my job before I go home and write it up, feeling a heady mix of wonder and privilege at being a confidante.

This could be a lonely feeling, carrying someone else’s troubles, but they are quickly released on the page. And I always remember they are not my troubles to dwell on. My job is to listen and then write.

Each book requires around 30 hours of interviews. I interview, then lock myself away and type, before interviewing for the next chapter. The deadline is always just a few months away, there is no time to procrastinate or feel lonely now. Lost in a sea of words on the screen I don’t even notice what room I am in, even less so if anyone is in it with me.

Once the interviews are over, the Author returns to their ordinary daily life and the real process of writing for the ghost begins. Or should I say re-writing. Mainly I type at home in my kitchen, but in winter it can become too cold. In January 2014, I wrote up most of The Race to Truth: Blowing the whistle on Lance Armstrong and cycling’s doping culture , by Emma O’Reilly, under my duvet.

While in the flow four hours pass barely noticed. But at some point tiredness creeps in and I must Get Out. Fresh air works sometimes, a brisk walk, an hour a day is what I aim for. Other times, it goes beyond a bodily tiredness, it’s a tangible loneliness, so I need to see a friendly human face.

One of my best friends lives around the corner, and thankfully she is also a freelancer so we’ll arrange to meet nearby. As a good friend, she absorbs my babbling and need to talk like a sponge. Almost exhausted I stop, conscious all I have done is talk about myself.

“Not seen anyone all day?” she laughs.

“All week more like!” I reply.

Having a deadline to hand in a book manuscript means a constant feeling of being behind with homework. If I am not writing, I am feeling guilty. My first book was Jade Goody’s eagerly anticipated Forever in My Heart and it was listed on Amazon as the number one Hot Pick, meaning on publication it was likely to go to the top of the chart. But at that moment this potential number one bestseller, which national papers were already trying to buy the serial rights for, was half-written on my laptop. The pressure is on!

Once the edits are done, the draft can be handed to the publisher. Rarely does it involve a face-to-face meeting, everything is via email or the phone. No writer likes edits. A ghostwriter has two sets to deal with, those of the editor and then the Author. Edits involve hours sitting alone, scrolling up and down, down and up, changing copy you’ve re-read over one hundred times.

Once the final version is done, the Author finally reads the manuscript. Fortunately for me, with almost all of my books they have been very happy. At this point I might get an email from the publisher to say they like it too, and this is where the accolades begin and end.

I will never have my name on the cover. I will never go to the book launch or get invited to an event if the book is nominated for an award. Unless they scour the acknowledgements at the back of the book, or Google my website nobody will know I have written it. But far from being a painful experience, it makes perfect sense. Without the Author’s story there is no book and standing in the (sometimes) lonely shadows comes a sense of security. No promotional tours means no attention of the good or bad kind. Only once, as I heard my Author receive praise on the radio for the opening chapter of his first book, did I bristle a little, before I smiled and thought: ‘Job well done then’.

As the publicity machine kicks into gear, I’ll sit at home by myself, quietly reading the reviews online, pleased and relieved to have finished the job. The weight of the book is now lifted off my ghostly shoulders and I am happy to disappear off onto the next project.

( Shannon Kyle is a journalist and ghostwriter ).

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