For MORE
Read our exclusive interview with author Kemper Donovan now at womensweekly.com.au
I tell other people’s stories for a living. You can call me a ghostwriter, though usually I just say I “freelance”, which is vague and boring enough to put an end to strangers’ polite inquiries. Among friends I call myself a “lady Cyrano”, which is meant to be self-deprecating. (I have an unusually large nose.)
That’s a lie, actually. Not about my unusually large nose, but about my supposed friends. I have lots of acquaintances, and colleagues, and associates – an assortment of people who pepper my existence so that if you saw me from the outside, you’d think my life was perfectly full. There are times it seems full even to me. But the truth is I don’t have any friends. Not the kind I always pictured having: friends so close, they’re family. Oh – I don’t have a family, either. We decided years ago it would be best if we stopped talking. I’m not telling you this to make you feel sorry for me. I’m telling you because I want – I have – to be honest. It’s the only way this is going to work.
Ghostwriting is not about
