I Choose to Be the Ghostwriter Behind the Scenes: My Journey

The most beautiful part of being someone's ghostwriter is watching from behind the curtain as their story unfolds, blossoms, and blooms.

I don't worry about invisibility. I'm hyper-focused on amplification. And I don't need to be the spotlight when I know my work is moving mountains. Ghostwriting is, therefore, a quiet magic of legacy work and a privilege to transform a fellow's experience into something permanent, pertinent, and purposeful.

I believe if you can, you should. If you have a gift, you also have a responsibility.

My gift is giving words to people who can't find them. I'm blissfully burdened with the drive to support survivors, boost businesses, and inspire communities whose truths can't afford to be misconstrued.

In its simplest form, ghostwriting is listening until your bones ache. It's molding silence like quiet clay into something that can stand on its own. Ghostwriting, to me, is like carrying someone else's story with enough care that, when the world gets ahold of it, readers feel like they've always understood.

My Journey

I didn't set out to be a ghostwriter. I wanted to write a best-seller of my own, and then I wanted to work for a well-known company, and then I just wanted to write what I love.

Like most things in my writing career, ghostwriting found me.

I was freelancing as a blog writer, making branded content and the occasional ad campaign, when a former client approached me with an odd request:

"I have a book idea, and I think it's finally time to write it. But I have no idea where to begin, and I'm no writer. You could probably help, right?"

They had the premise, the plot, and the paycheck. I had the time, the tenacity, and the tight budget. That day, the seed of a dream was born. I said yes, and suddenly found myself holding space for someone else's memories, experiences, traumas, and ambitions. It might have been the first time my client ever put those thoughts into words, let alone in writing.

What they didn't have was the bandwidth or craft to shape their ideas into anything that could live on a website, bookshelf, screen, or readers' hands. But I did. Through scattered streams of consciousness via email, 3 a.m. voice memos, and mailboxes full of handwritten notes, I pieced together a manuscript that sounded exactly like them — something that could live and breathe on its own.

It was like becoming a surrogate mother, but without the labor pains and stretch marks.

I was instantly hooked. The intimate fragility of ghostwriting let me feed what was starving in someone else, far beyond what a free plate of food ever could.

It didn't take long for her book to start selling and business to start soaring, and her recommendations of me to friends matched pace. Before I knew it, I was writing a book a month and considering making ghostwriting my full-time gig.

Since then, I've held many jobs and worn many hats, from content director and senior copywriter to editorial staff and editor. But nothing has ever compared to the rush of writing as a gifted ghost, and I've had the honor of serving dozens of people throughout my career.

Ghostwriting is the translation of the civil war between head and heart. It's ensuring voices that might not otherwise be heard are no longer silenced, overlooked, or ignored. It's the most demanding, intimate, meaningful, and rewarding work I've ever done, and I wouldn't trade it for any byline in the world.

My Process

I work with clients from all over the world, both in-person and virtually. There are no bounds to creative collaboration, and the only thing a barrier needs to move is, well, more creativity.

My in-person clients tap into this in innovative ways, including somatic processing and art-as-therapy practices. We might fold paper airplanes and origami, paint rocks and coffee mugs, braid cord and make beadwork, or widdle wood while talking. I give clients grounding activities (and access to a beautiful outdoor space) to keep their minds and bodies calm, occupied, and ripe for ranting.

PTSD survivors and creatives know well that sometimes the best way to process trauma is sideways, upside down, backward, and inside out. Through doing small and tactile activities, their words often come out unfiltered — and I'm on standby waiting to catch them.

Narrative Therapy Meets Ghostwriting

A stream of consciousness is where memories, truths, and emotions surface organically without social overtones, cultural expectations, or trauma responses. Narrative therapy helps people process trauma, but more than that, it helps them lower their defenses, soothe their nervous systems, and experience a meaningful connection with someone genuine.

When clients enter a flow state, I'm careful never to interrupt, correct, criticize, or censor. I'm there to listen, transcribe, organize, pull threads, and connect fragments. I'm the glue holding onto the raw material that will later become the bricks of a book.

Long-Distance Is Doable

Not everyone can make it to my groovy garage workshop, and that's okay. The truth is, some of the most profoundly impactful projects have happened from hundreds (or even thousands) of miles away.

Good ghostwriting doesn't need four walls and fine motor skills. All you need is a way to communicate — email, phone, chat, video call, smoke signals, carrier pigeons, etc. I use screensharing, live documents, voice memos, web links, structured research, and even drafts scribbled on dirty napkins. The point is to get your story out of your head and into my hands.

Long-distance ghostwriting works because I know how to catch the rhythms and cadence, even over Google Meet. I can read between the lines in emails, notes, and rants. I work to build trust and rapport across time zones because distance should never dilute the message.

Why I Don't Ghostwrite Everything

I love being a ghostwriter, but that doesn't mean I say yes to every project that comes my way. Here's why:

• I don't ghostwrite content that glamorizes evil or sells snake oil.

• I won't put words to something hollow or dishonest.

• If your goal is manipulation or harm, I'm not your writer.

Ghostwriting is trust work, so if I don't believe in what we're building, I can't do it justice. You deserve a writer who's all in, and that will never be me if your objectives are dark. I pick projects that have a heartbeat — the ones that build legacies, hoist generational wealth, inspire communities, and help brands connect with humankind instead of exploiting it.

Who I Ghostwrite For

Ghostwriting for people and businesses has taken me places I never thought possible — from Hollywood to Washington, D.C. And the fun part is that my projects are never about the same things.

While some people might think ghostwriting is cheating, I wholeheartedly disagree. It's a business and a confession, like an invisible art that makes someone else's truth tangible. It's not soulless; it's creative collaboration born from the need for amplification. This is assisted legacy-building with a byline.

So, I ghostwrite for anyone with an idea and writer's block. That includes (but isn't limited to) survivors, founders, CEOs, personal brands, therapists, coaches, educators, advocates, activists, nonprofits, artists, and rebels. Ghostwriting lets me sit in the shadows while someone else's story sits in the limelight, and that's exactly where I want to be.

I want to help make people's voices impossible to ignore.

If you've been sitting on a story, a brand, or a book idea and don't know how or where to begin — start here. Let me be the one behind the curtain: Hire Me to Ghostwrite for You.