Another excerpt from one of the e-books in my new program Living as a Ghost.
The very first book I wrote as someone else was for my own grandmother. I wrote the story of when she came to America as a child in 1905, her experiences as a “flapper” in the 1920s, her housewife life in a mountain logging town during the Depression, and her war service in the Second World War. I interviewed her and recorded our conversations, and she lent me a box of very old letters in spidery handwriting, plus about thirty photo albums full of photos of people who even she couldn’t remember. I wrote it in first person, in her voice, using many of the phrases characteristic of my grandmother, with idioms common for her era. I wrote the book for love of my grandmother and because I wanted my own two daughters to know their heritage.The book turned out very well, and Grandma loved it. She was so proud of it she showed it to all her friends, and since she was a highly social woman, a lot of people got to see it. One of those people raved about the book to her daughter, and then the daughter called me up and asked me to do the same thing for her mother. That was my first paid ghostwriting job. I charged a miniscule amount considering the energy and time I spent on it, but it was a great learning experience to write a memoir for a total stranger. It too was a success, and for the first time it occurred to me that I might actually be able to make a living doing what I loved – writing – and had been doing “on the side” for the previous twenty-odd years.
So I was off and running … well, not really running. I was off and limping. I had a lot to learn yet about ghostwriting, especially about how to market my services. But that was almost 15 years ago, and here I still am.
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