More people than ever are paying for ghostwriters to pen their memoirs. What's behind the boom, asks Jake Helm.
Bob Ely likes to look back on key events in his life. There was his separation
More people than ever are paying for ghostwriters to pen their memoirs. What's behind the boom, asks Jake Helm.
Bob Ely likes to look back on key events in his life. There was his separation from his German father in the Second World War; the times he was caught up in the bloody Nigerian civil war and a 7.2 magnitude earthquake in Chile. And the day at a cadet camp when cheekily he told King George VI that the idea of joining the army bored him.
Bob, 91, doesn't want his life story to die with him. That's why the former manager at British American Tobacco from Oxfordshire turned to one of a burgeoning number of bespoke memoir-writing companies. He was paired with Michael Oke, 59, the founder of Bound Biographies, who has spent almost three decades turning other people's memories into prose and then print.
Over 20 years Bob and Michael have been more prolific than Donna Tartt. They've "collaborated on" two hefty autobiographies of Bob's life. "I've got two more volumes lined up and there may be a few more depending on how much more I can remember or, more importantly, how long I have left," he says with a laugh.
His memoirs, This Strange Eventful History and After the Postscript, won't trouble the Sunday Times bestsellers list. Only 30 copies of each were published and given — rather than sold — to Bob's friends and family.
Michael and Bob are on trend. Since the start of lockdown the demand for bespoke memoirs has skyrocketed. One ghostwriter tells me her commissions have increased by 130 per cent; another's have more than doubled. Story Terrace, a London-based company that produces glossy memoirs punctuated with family photographs, says its workload is up 400 per cent since the pandemic began. And that's before the Christmas rush.
But, how much is your life story worth? Well, it's certainly more than a penny for your thoughts — up to £7,500 ($14,600) to be precise, depending on the package and the company.
Forever Stories offers an 18-page collection of short stories, gleaned from an hour-long interview with a ghostwriter, for about £600 ($1,170). At the top end, Bound Biographies usually needs about six to ten six-hour meetings to produce a weighty book of about 50,000 words (150 to 250 pages) for up to £7,500.
The finished works can sound like a ballad (Looking for the Silver Lining) or a self-help book (Life Is What You Make It). One title, Yabba Dabba Doo, appears to be The Flintstones' sequel, but is an affectionate in-joke between a husband and wife. Another, Heads for Medicine, tells of a nurse who as a teenager flipped a coin to decide whether she went into medicine or law. She made sure the coin landed on its head.
How do ghostwriters write so vividly about lives that can often seem mundane? Most say it's all about building a connection with their subject. Sometimes it's a "doctor-patient" relationship that's almost therapeutic — a peaceful trip down memory lane, as one describes it. Sometimes it is almost telepathic. "I'm certain my ghostwriter could read my mind," says Alan Beckett, 86, from Staffordshire, who used LifeBook UK to create his memoir. "She got things exactly right. It's like she had known me my whole life."
Often the endless hours delving into a client's life can build a relationship that goes beyond what's on the page. "These are not just books, they are people," Michael says, choking up as he talks about the 250 memoirs he has ghostwritten. "I invited nine of them to my wedding. My children have so many honorary aunts and uncles."
Michael has even spoken at some of his clients' funerals. One man's son thanked him after an oration: "That was Dad speaking through those words."
Elspeth Mavor McKechnie — the first woman doctor to reach air rank in the Royal Air Force — had about 56 meetings with Michael. On her deathbed in 2003 she declared writing her memoir as one of her three proudest achievements, along with being awarded the CBE and becoming an air rank officer.
Memoirs sometimes unearth family secrets. Kristine Murray, 40, from Lancashire, bought a ghostwriting service for her Catholic grandmother during the pandemic. She learnt that her gran, 100, was the only biological daughter of her great-grandparents — her three siblings had a different father.
Kristine confesses it was a bit of a shock. "I couldn't really take it all in. What's more, the memoir was filled with sex, drugs and rock'n'roll. My grandmother has the cheekiest side you can ever imagine."
Such memoirs may not be bestsellers, although some people try to flog them on Amazon, but the demand for accuracy is high. Things can get heated when first drafts are read and spelling, grammatical or factual errors are spotted. It can get even more awkward when memories aren't as good as they once were. One ghostwriter had a heated argument with a client about whether his spell in the Royal Navy was under "Her Majesty's Service" or "His Majesty's Service". "It was so embarrassing. I felt awful because I knew he served under a king and his memory just wasn't there," the ghostwriter says.
"Anyone considering it should just go for it," says Luke Hallard, 49, from London, who has no regrets about giving his father a memoir-writing service as a 70th birthday present. "You never know how long relatives are going to be around or how long they are going to be mentally able. Anything could happen, and this preserves their memories for ever."
Written by: Jake Helm
© The Times of London
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