There I was, in a fancy Calabassas living room, with my dislocated rib and a notepad filled with questions on my lap.
I had to take shallow breaths because of my rib pain. Somehow, and I think I get this skill from my tough-as-nails dad, my potential first client didn’t even know I was in pain.
“So, how does writing a memoir work?” The family asked for their beloved father, a successful businessman suffering from Parkinson’s who wanted to get his teachings from business and life on paper to pass down to the next generations.
I answered questions based on research I’d done, not at all on any real experience or prior published books. “Well, the way we’ll work it is I’ll come here and do a series of interviews. I’ll help structure his book and write it for him, but the ideas will all be his of course, and you can decide how you want to distribute it when we’re done with the manuscript.”
The family was extremely polished and well-dressed, but also deeply down-to-earth and warm. They clearly loved their patriarch.
I felt connected to them immediately, but of course had no idea what they thought of me, a 45-year old new ghostwriter who’d answered their ad on Thumbtack.
Much of the interview is a blur to me, as I was high on the adrenalin of courage to get through the pain and the nerves of not really knowing what I was doing in this context.
My potential client had a million words to say, even if a only a handful could spill out at a time from his spasming mouth. I could tell he had a sense of humor and had an enormous amount of wisdom to share.
I asked him, “What has been one of the tenets you’ve used to live your life and business by that could give me an idea of how you want your book to read?” Even though he couldn’t do most of the speaking, I always addressed my questions directly to him. And I never cut him off or tried to finish his sentences.
He gave me a crooked smile, sparkled his eyes, and lifted his aged hand from the chair. “You….gotta —- know…. when… tohold‘em,” he managed after long pauses after every word.
“Yes!” I said, excitedly. And I couldn’t help myself. I launched into the entire song, The Gambler, by Kenny Rogers. “….there’ll be time enough for countin’ when the dealin‘s done!”
My potential client was giddy in his chair and everyone in the room, his wife, his daughter, joined me in the song.
I got the job.
Here’s what I learned about writing for others: While of course skill is needed for the work of the manuscript, being able to deeply connect with others is even more important. Understanding your client, whether they are a restauranteur, a doctor, a businesswoman, a musician, or an ex-addict will be your biggest advantage over other writers.
It makes sense. The person a writer works for has to trust you’ll represent their story, their heart, or their brand to the world. And when they can feel you get them at a deeper level than just what it make take to sell a book or get clicks on an article, they will choose you for their story.
So listen. Be honest about what you do and don’t know. Look deeper into the person than their end goal. And go to YouTube and learn The Gambler. It just might get you a job!