Chapter 3

Here’s the thing about ghostwriting:

You don’t get credit. You don’t get applause. You don’t even get a name.

And I’m fine with that.

Ghostwriting isn’t about me, it’s about you.
Your voice, vision, and name on the cover.

My job is to slip inside your head, borrow your skin for a while, and write the way you would if you had the time or the skill.

And for a peek at a sample, this is a rewrite as a mock example:

Baseline: "I just want to get through today’s to-do list."

If Client A were formal/academic, I'd turn it to: "According to today’s schedule, I’ll focus on completing the list methodically to optimize productivity."

For Client B, the casual/bloggy, I'd make it: "My to-do list looks like it multiplied overnight, so I’m just trying to crawl through it, box by box."

As for Client C, the memoir/introspective, I'd write: "Yesterday’s unfinished notes stared back at me this morning, so I forced myself upright and decided today would be different."

...

I started ghostwriting because people liked my style, but wanted the spotlight themselves.
Fair trade.

I didn’t need the fame.

I wanted to build something for them.
To put their name higher.
And to let them walk away owning something to boast about, something entirely theirs.

It’s a mask I wear easily.
Because at the end of the day, I don’t need the world to know it’s me.
I just need you to.

...

Way before, I used to offer my help to my school and uni friends when they needed it.
That was regarding writing simple things, editing and proofreading their work, and reviewing it.

It was so simple, yet they needed something else that I couldn't figure out what it was.

I went back and forth with them, discussing their needs in full detail.

The assignment was clear to us, as I knew what to do, but I had no clue what they were asking exactly.
It seemed like they had a set of expectations, preferences, and a foreign ask.

I then retorted with one single question: "How about I write it for you?"

It was a clueless offer; I didn't have any understanding of it and didn't know that ghostwriting was a thing.

And so I got to work.

...

They scored in the top list of submissions, along with me.

To say that I was proud was an understatement; I was confident in my skills, and I believed I could deliver.
They were appreciative of what I did because they didn't just score well; they also passed the English subject as a whole.

I contributed to their success: I've helped them with their other assignments, taught them lots of things they lacked comprehension of, helped them nail it in the tests and quizzes, and written what they couldn't find elsewhere.

And for me to say that I stopped here would be a fatal mistake on my part.

I've helped a quarter of the class members pass the English subject, along with clients who came to me by word-of-mouth, who were in other universities and schools.

...

As of recent days in 2024, my mind was kicked to the top shelf.

"When you write for someone else, with them taking credit, it's called ghostwriting."
"What is Ghostwriting?"
"How to get clients as a Ghostwriter."

The internet was swamped with content like this, the market was overfilled with talk of the value the ghostwriter brings, and how most content creators and businesses needed one.

I went into confusion overdrive as my mind was all over the place.

"So, let me get this straight... You mean to tell me that I was a ghostwriter without knowing about it?!"

That was what I used to think most of the time.

I was flabbergasted and speechless.
Silenced, is the most accurate term.

...

Once I verified its existence, I consciously decided to turn it into a real service this time.
(It has always been one; I was just blind to it)

And from there, I began stating that I'm a ghostwriter in the mid days of 2025.

A revolutionary standard, wouldn't you say so?