What is it like to contemplate a career writing about other people’s lives?
Some people – politicians, accountants, missionaries – just write their books, just like that. I approach book writing using the longest roundabout ever. Somehow, in my convoluted mind, I thought that book writing meant I need to have journalistic experience, magazine and newsletter writing, editing, copyproofing… My latest experiment is ghostwriting for people.
Attempted six books, had two published and one in the printers; my conclusion is that writing books for other people is hard work and not very profitable. First of all is the knowledge that this is NOT YOUR book. With each interview is the depressing thought that those without a life just have to write about other people’s adventures.
Secondly, it’s difficult to write 30,000 words about a total stranger and make sure it gives a fair representation of him based on a few interviews and background materials. Sometimes, I find myself caught between a rock and a hard place when sandwiched between editor and interviewee. I’ve come to a point where the invisible scribe (i.e. me) has to make a Demand, which astonishes the bosses cos it’s like watching a worm turn. My basic demand is that the person who is going to put his name on the cover of the book must be fully committed to the project and own it, he must meet me more than halfway, and work harder than me if he has to.
I’m learning to pick and choose clients. I know salary-earners like me can’t afford to turn down jobs, but worse, I can’t afford to go halfway into a three or four month project and receive no renumeration cos the project got dropped, when I’d already sensed from the beginning that there’s no inspiration or commitment from the interviewee. I would have no one to blame but myself, right?
And then you meet all kinds of interviewees. Of cos we meet all kinds even when writing reports and magazine profiles. But for such short articles, you only need to meet the person once. In a book project, you rub up against each other a lot more. There was one person who kept introducing me to her acquaintances as “my writer who is writing a book about me”. I cringed at each introduction; it’s like I was being lumped into a certain category – “This is my pet poodle, this is my personal secretary, and, oh yes, this is my writer.”
Sometimes, interviewees take offence when you ask intimate questions which had to be asked. And presto, the next thing you know, you get a call from the editor. So I couldn’t help but point out to my editor about Joe McGinniss who is writing a book about Sarah Palin. He went to the extent of renting a house next to the Palins and stayed there for an extended period observing them. Of cos I would not go to the extent of harassing an interviewee, but this example demonstrates how much effort goes into writing a biography of another person, a stranger. McGinnis’ son, who is himself a novelist, was reported as saying “If you were writing a biography of Tiger Woods and had the chance to move in with him, or his pool house, or rent next door or down the street from him — it would be journalistic malpractice not to. As a writer, you go where the story is, get as close as you can to it… People who write about politics, campaigns, they travel with the candidates, stay in the same motels, ride the bus, eat breakfast, hang out any and everywhere they can to get access. It’s pretty basic. We want to read the work of someone who is as close to their subject as possible. That’s called reporting. And when it’s for a book about someone, all the more important to be close.”
But, who was it that said “When the going is hard, you know you’re learning”? (Well, it’s me. I’m sure there must be a saying along this line by some famous person, but I’m too lazy to look it up). I’ve learned a bit on this journey of ghostwriting for others. For one thing, you learn their life stories. When I was interviewing Francis and Dorothy Chong for their book “No More Tears”, I found myself weeping at some of their heartfelt confessions. It was quite unprofessional. At one point, when Dorothy was deep into a memory and I was alternately snuffling and typing, she absent-mindedly handed me a tissue and we continued. I was too shy to continue the friendship after the project was wrapped up, but I really admired this couple.
By Pauline Loh 