More on: The First Meeting: Excerpt from my book, "A Friendly Guide to Writing and Ghostwriting"
When I’m ghostwriting and trying to decide if a particular project is right for me, the criteria I use in the initial “getting to know you” meeting is generally the same with everyone:
I try to make a good first impression. A prospective client wants to be heard, acknowledged, and understood. She is about to spill her guts about personal things so she needs to feel safe. I show up dressed professionally and let her know that my job as a ghostwriter is not to create a vision for her or urge her to expose things that she wants to keep secret. Rather, my job is to listen to her vision and help her express it. If something is too personal for her to expose, I leave it alone. I want her to like the book when we’re finished so I need to assure her that unlike press interviews, magazine articles, or talk shows, she will not be getting ambushed or blindsided by me. When I make it clear that nothing will be published without her approval, she starts to relax.
During that first meeting, I look my client in the eye, and if she does the same with me, that’s a good sign. I take note: Does she listen? Does her vision make sense? Does she have one? Is she coherent and direct? Is she forthcoming about her life or will it take urging and cajoling? Can she hold a thought or does she get distracted and ramble off? Will she be willing to take direction? Does she treat me with respect? Does she understand the collaboration process? Does she play well with other children?
It’s a lot to figure out in one hour, but these questions are crucial. I begin by asking, “Why do you want to write a book?” If the answer is, “I’ve had a full life and I’d like to share what I’ve learned,” or “I want to leave a legacy for my children,” I get a good feeling. If they say, “My agent thinks it’d be good for my career,” or “I want to make a lot of money,” or “I want to get back at my boyfriend,” I go on red alert. Books, especially memoirs, are labors of love and every one involved has to work hard and keep their eyes on the prize – an authentic and compelling account that will draw in readers and hold their interest. All too often, a client doesn't really want to put in the time and do productive interviews that will allow me to write something she can be proud of. She has to be a constant and willing participant. If she wants to have a book written for her with minimal participation on her part, that isn't a collaboration and it won’t produce a winning book.
When a client says, “It has to be a best seller, nothing else will do,” that kind of pressure makes me want to cut and run. Celebrities expect to be winners at all times, but no matter who you are, writing a successful book is always a crap shoot and writing a bestseller is a fluke. Somewhere between six hundred thousand and a million books are published each year in the United States, and of those, a very small number fewer become bestsellers No one knows what will resonate with the general public at any given time. You can write your ass off, do your research and interview a client over and over, and write something good, but there are no guarantees that you’ll have a bestseller on your hands. You have to show up each day, do the work, surrender it to the writing gods, and keep your fingers crossed.
During the first meeting, you establish whether or not you can communicate with the celebrity’s assistant if she is there. You hope so. This may seem irrelevant, but it isn’t. The overworked, generally underpaid woman (in rare cases it's a man) in the coveted position of Personal Assistant holds the key to the celebrity’s inner sanctum. She is on call 24/7, she shoulders inappropriate blame, she suffers from lack of sleep and she is often the best functioning part of her boss’s brain. Or the only functioning part. In my experience, if I treat these hard working people with respect and kindness, when I need something, they are usually happy to get it for me. An assistant once called me her boss’s Valium and I knew I was doing a good job.
Most importantly, when I meet a prospective client for the first time, just like any relationship, I ask myself if I like her. If I feel comfortable in her presence? Does she seem at ease in mine or does she look like she might fly into a rage at any moment. Does she inspire me? Does she value my thoughts and ideas? Would someone else be a better choice?
I once met with a royal who acted playful and eager to work during our first meeting. She assured me that writing this book was her top priority and she couldn't wait to get started. But it was all an act. A life on the stage would have been a better fit for her. When I got hired and showed up with my tape recorder, she began throwing tantrums. I’d worked with some difficult women, but she was way over the top. After an extremely non-productive week, she was gone for two days, she cracked open a bottle of champagne to celebrate finishing the book. We had barely begun and I was stunned that she could be that delusional.
In a few weeks, when we met again, I handed her one hundred pages that I’d somehow materialized out of mid-air. She took the pages from me, flipped through them and slammed them on the desk. “Where’s the rest of it?” she growled.
“It's been three weeks,” I said, “and we only recorded two tapes. I just gave you one hundred pages.”
“Well, the writer I had two years ago finished the whole book in three weeks.”
I wondered why she hadn’t hired him again but I suspected he’d had enough. She was so unrealistic and angry, I had to walk away from the project. Throughout the course of my writing career, hers was one of only two projects that I quit in the middle. The other was a delusional psychic who was deeply impressed with herself and she rejected everything I wrote, none too kindly. I’m willing to be questioned, critiqued, and asked to delete or add material according to the client’s wishes, but I draw the line at abuse of any sort. You should, too.