“That’s terrible, tell me more,” I instruct her over the phone.
Can you ghostwrite an autobiography? I try not to ask too many questions while I’m making money.
Whoever started this trend, I’d buy them a drink. Those reality show sisters, that singer who dates the football player, real housewives of who-cares-ville—it didn’t matter.
“You have a story to tell!” My flyer said, hanging below a “Missing Woman” poster. The little tabs with my number were all torn off. Within a week, the once quiet town began their life’s confessions. Superficial, mostly until…
She despised staying incognito. She wanted the limelight. Yet, she hated being found behind the scenes. The words she penned and crafted for the second term U.S. Senator’s speeches were hers — not really his at all. She no longer found writing for a politician — this lazy, lackluster politician — challenging or worthy of her abilities. Her first novel was ready to send to publishers. She was the writer. Her name would be on it — Hollie Hobson. The ghostwriting gig would soon be over, not soon enough — but over. She already had a second and a third novel in the works.
Bars behind me, beers and brandy to my right and left. Napkins scribbled; I ask for more, get some with ketchup stains. My pen digs into napkins, leaks. The waitress stops by, sees my problem and with her pencil corrects my written words for a script I was working on. She saw the scenes and characters bleed through the stains on my papers. I didn’t challenge her who said she had an MFA in scriptwriting. I asked her out to dinner and with a sigh she said yes; where we went to a private place and finished script “Ghostwriter.”
The actor stood on stage, his mind racing with anticipation. He had rehearsed his lines tirelessly, determined to nail the audition. As the director called "Action!" the actor confidently began, "I am the GHOSTRIDER!" The room fell silent. Confusion washed over the actor's face as he realized his mistake. The director, stifling a laugh, corrected him, "It's GHOSTWRITER, not GHOSTRIDER." Embarrassed, the actor tried to recover, but his confidence was shattered. He left the audition, his dreams of playing a motorcycle-riding, flame-headed vigilante dashed. Little did he know, his unique interpretation had caught the director's eye. A new opportunity awaited.
Amazing sir! 👏🏽
Thank you sir 🫡
“That’s terrible, tell me more,” I instruct her over the phone.
Can you ghostwrite an autobiography? I try not to ask too many questions while I’m making money.
Whoever started this trend, I’d buy them a drink. Those reality show sisters, that singer who dates the football player, real housewives of who-cares-ville—it didn’t matter.
“You have a story to tell!” My flyer said, hanging below a “Missing Woman” poster. The little tabs with my number were all torn off. Within a week, the once quiet town began their life’s confessions. Superficial, mostly until…
The phone rang. I answered.
“Can you keep a secret until we’re done?”
What a clever way to use Hemmingways words. Good one Miguel, this one felt rather quite personal to you ain't it?
In a way yea 😀 I saw the word ghostwriter somewhere on Substack and the idea was born 😀
I use notes to find inspiration too.
PROMPT: GHOSTWRITER
THE GHOSTWRITER
It was suggested he should use a ghostwriter. To add polish and sparkle.
And the collaboration went so well, and their exaggerations made him look so good, that he found himself asking them what else they could ghostwrite.
A speech, perhaps? A thank-you note?
Soon, they were ghostwriting everything for him, and his true mark was on nothing.
It was then he started to notice it.
His hands beginning to wither. Then, other parts quickly followed.
All those sparkling words and lies were causing the real him to disappear and shrivel away.
Until one day… POOF…
He was gone… 😎
She despised staying incognito. She wanted the limelight. Yet, she hated being found behind the scenes. The words she penned and crafted for the second term U.S. Senator’s speeches were hers — not really his at all. She no longer found writing for a politician — this lazy, lackluster politician — challenging or worthy of her abilities. Her first novel was ready to send to publishers. She was the writer. Her name would be on it — Hollie Hobson. The ghostwriting gig would soon be over, not soon enough — but over. She already had a second and a third novel in the works.
love this!
Go get your dream Hollie!
Omg, I would die if Hemingway’s ghost visited me😵
To be fair I would probably die if ANY ghost visited me lmao.
Bars behind me, beers and brandy to my right and left. Napkins scribbled; I ask for more, get some with ketchup stains. My pen digs into napkins, leaks. The waitress stops by, sees my problem and with her pencil corrects my written words for a script I was working on. She saw the scenes and characters bleed through the stains on my papers. I didn’t challenge her who said she had an MFA in scriptwriting. I asked her out to dinner and with a sigh she said yes; where we went to a private place and finished script “Ghostwriter.”
Great atmosphere!
GREAT scene!
Lights, cameras, action.
The actor stood on stage, his mind racing with anticipation. He had rehearsed his lines tirelessly, determined to nail the audition. As the director called "Action!" the actor confidently began, "I am the GHOSTRIDER!" The room fell silent. Confusion washed over the actor's face as he realized his mistake. The director, stifling a laugh, corrected him, "It's GHOSTWRITER, not GHOSTRIDER." Embarrassed, the actor tried to recover, but his confidence was shattered. He left the audition, his dreams of playing a motorcycle-riding, flame-headed vigilante dashed. Little did he know, his unique interpretation had caught the director's eye. A new opportunity awaited.
Excellent
Thank you!
So that's how it started 😉. Clever spin.
Gloria, opportunity knocks another rehearsal could be in the making working for Harley -Davidson. Set the stage. I heat the applause.
LOL. I love your writing!
That's a clever one Gloria! Thank you!