From Ghostwriter to Author: My Journey

For years, I made a living telling other people’s stories. Ghostwriting has always been a little like stepping into someone else’s shoes. Learning their voice, their rhythm, even the words they would never use, and making sure the final story feels like it belongs entirely to them. I still do it, by the way. Ghostwriting is what pays my bills, and I love the challenge of slipping into another person’s perspective. But a funny thing happened along the way: I realised I had my own story to tell.

The leap from ghostwriter to author was not as simple as flipping a switch. In fact, it felt more like jumping into cold water. Here are a few things that surprised me when I switched sides of the page.#

Wait… what does my own voice even sound like?

When you spend years writing as other people, your own voice can feel … strange. I kept catching myself thinking, Would I actually say this? Or am I just borrowing a client’s phrasing? It took time to stop editing myself into blandness and to start writing in a way that sounded like me.

Have you ever found it difficult to find your own voice after spending so much time adapting to your clients? Whether you’re a writer, copyeditor, or content writer, reach out and leave a comment below!

Writing with your name on the cover hits differently

As a ghostwriter, the story belongs to someone else. That makes it oddly easy to be brave, because if a reader hates it, it is not your name on the cover. Publishing under my own name was the opposite. Every paragraph felt like handing over a piece of myself and waiting for someone to say whether they liked it. Terrifying, but also liberating.

Deadlines: easy-peasy, crippling doubt… well, that’s another story

I am used to deadlines, word counts, and sticking to a client’s brief. What I was not prepared for was how loud my own self-doubt could be when the story was mine. It’s one thing to think: This chapter isn’t working, but it’s their story. It is another to think: This chapter isn’t working, and that means I’m not good enough. Learning to separate the work from my worth has been a huge part of this journey.

Ghostwriting sharpened me. Authorship softened me

Writing my own stories has given me more empathy for clients. I understand how exposing it feels to hand your ideas to someone else. And ghostwriting continues to sharpen my skills, structure, pacing, and dialogue, which I now carry into my books. It turns out the two roles feed each other more than they compete.

When people hear that I wrote my debut, The Wild Rover, in just two weeks, they usually assume it was easy. The truth? Those two weeks were only the tip of the iceberg. I had spent months beforehand wrestling with the idea, planning the characters, sketching the village in my mind, and piecing together the emotional beats of the story. By the time I finally sat down to write, it poured out quickly, but only because the groundwork had taken so long.

And of course, finishing a draft is never the end. I went through round after round of edits, reshaping scenes, cutting entire sections, and rewriting dialogue until it actually sounded human. It was messy and, at times, exhausting. But that process taught me something ghostwriting never had: when it’s your own name on the page, you have to decide when to stop, when to let go, and when the story is ready to stand on its own.

And yes, money still matters!

I’m going to say the quiet part out loud: I still ghostwrite because it pays. Regular income gives me the space to invest time and energy into my books. There is no shame in that. In fact, I think more writers should talk about it. Art does not stop being art because you also have to make a living. Do you think writers should talk more about their ‘paying roles’ and ‘passion roles’?

Switching sides of the page has been equal parts scary and rewarding. Ghostwriting taught me how to write. Becoming an author taught me how to be seen. Now I get to do both: one role that provides stability and another that lets me stretch my heart on the page. And honestly, I wouldn’t trade that balance for anything.

So… what have I learnt?

Switching from ghostwriter to author has been both unsettling and liberating. The Wild Rover taught me that even when words come quickly, the real work lies in the planning, the rewrites, and the courage to be seen. Ghostwriting sharpened my craft, but authorship forced me to find my own voice and accept vulnerability. I still ghostwrite for stability, and I am proud of that balance because it is proof that money and creativity can co-exist. More than anything, stepping into authorship reminded me that every writer’s journey is about discovering not just what you can write, but who you are when you do write.