How Much Does It Cost to Hire a Ghostwriter? [Rates and Fees]

I've been ghostwriting through Reedsy for the last four years and off and on before that for clients I met through my own work. For me, there are three primary considerations for fiction:

1. How much does the client have written on the novel?
2. How much time will it take me to write the book?
3. Does the idea intrigue me?

If I find the idea intriguing and the idea is all the client has, I usually propose a synopsis based on the 15 beats of storytelling. It runs around 35 pages and essentially provides a blueprint for writing the novel. I do this synopsis for my own work. It means that halfway through the writing, I won't have to toss out 100 pages because the story no longer works. With a synopsis that outlines the 15 critical beats of a story, the client can then either write the book herself or turn it over to the ghostwriter. The synopsis saves time and ultimately saves the client money.

For non-fiction, the consideration is different. It's helpful if the client presents an outline of the chapters, even if it's rough. If I have to spend hours on zoom with the client to hear a story, the cost is higher.

Sometimes, when a client says they don't have money to cover the price I'm asking, we negotiate. But in the end, the main consideration for me is time. Will it take me two months or six to write the book? When I take on a ghostwriting project, I put my own work on hold and focus on the client's project.

Ooh, that is such a good question!

One of the hardest parts of choosing an editor is trusting that they’ll get you – your tone, your rhythm, your way of telling a story-that’s what “voice” is, after all, the thing that makes your writing yours.

So how do you know if an editor can capture it rather than flatten it?

A few practical ways can help.

First, ask for a sample edit. Even a page or two will tell you a lot. Do their suggested changes make your writing clearer and sharper without stripping away your personality? If you read it back and it still sounds like you – just a more polished version – that’s a good sign.

Secondly, pay attention to how they listen-and, for me, listening comes first as a ghostwriter. A good editor doesn’t just correct or 'get technical'; they ask questions about your intent, your audience, and the effect you want to create.

If they’re interested in what lies behind your words, they’re far more likely to respect your voice on the page.

Thirdly, read their testimonials or portfolio. Past clients will often mention whether an editor was sensitive to style and tone. If you see repeated praise for “keeping my voice intact,” that’s worth noting.

Finally, trust your instincts after a conversation. If you feel heard and understood in person, that relationship usually translates well into the editing process. This is your book and you will be telling your story from your heart-your writer needs to be able to understand and absolutely empathise with that fact.

In the end, the right editor won’t make your work sound like theirs. They’ll make sure it sounds like you – at your very best.

YOUR voice.

Having failed the Vulcan mind-meld certification course, I know only one way to capture an author’s voice. Interviews. Lots of them. Here’s what I tell every prospect … As a ghostwriter, I will spend lots of time interviewing you. And thanks to these interviews, I’ll acquire much of the book's content, as well as your unique point of view, key messages, and ways of speaking. Every interview is recorded and transcribed, so when it comes time to write the manuscript, I can simply copy, paste, and edit/rewrite large portions of the transcripts. The book’s voice will match yours for the simple reason that much of the book is your actual voice, answering questions and telling stories. I’ll probably spend as much time (or more time) planning the interviews, crafting interview questions, and listening intently as I’ll spend writing the book. In short, I capture authors' voices by recording and using many of their own words. That’s my “trick.” Which really isn’t a trick.

Since skilled ghostwriters adapt their writing to match their clients' voices, taking a look at multiple samples of their work to confirm that different assignments sound different is one way to see if a ghostwriter can capture your voice. If all of their samples sound the same, then they're writing in their own voice and not their clients'.

Two simple elements help me capture my client's voice:

1. Have at least one phone/Zoom call and hear their voice
2. Start the editing/ghostwriting process with a small section, and identify where I amplified their unique voice, and where I missed the mark.

This feedback is essential for both parties.

Capturing a client's voice starts with listening. Effective listening is fueled by curiosity and empathy. Authentic curiosity allows me to listen with real interest. As I saturate myself in the clients' ideas and stories, I grow to empathize with them. From this soil bloom the final words on the page--from pacing to word choice to style. As a ghostwriter, my focus on attentive listening means I rely heavily on interviews. I take extra time to converse with my clients and build rapport, so we can discover their writing-style identity identity together--because it all starts with their voice.

Great question! The interview process is the first step. You're not just collecting the material for the book, you're also tuning your ear to their modes of speech. These days too - depending on the project - I use AI to transcribe the interviews, but AI can't manage every accent, so I always run through the transcripts a second time to make sure that they're accurate, and that process again sinks the client's voice deeper into my subconscious. So when it comes to the writing stage, I'm super-familiar with the client's idioms and vocabulary, so I can write away naturally in their voice.

Every ghostwriter has their own tricks on how to capture the voice of an author while writing. I’m a big stand-up comedy fan, so I like to think of myself as doing an impression of the author as I write. Many of the best impressionists–Dana Carvey is my favorite–usually have a word or a phrase that gets them into the character. I try to do the same with my clients. Sometimes it’s not even anything spoken. I can imagine the person on a stage gesticulating, for example, to help me get into their voice.

But I think beyond those tricks, we can put a little more structure to the process of “voice." By breaking down what voice is, we can help to elevate it for our clients and reach the level of a true collaboration.

I tend to approach capturing voice with three different components, which I walk through with each of my clients:

1. Structure: Some authors will have different sentence structures than others. Some may like having short, declarative sentences or paragraphs, vs. long ones with lots of detail. Can I use conjunctions or not? Do you want to ask the reader a lot of questions, or be more declarative? Do you want to use bulleted or numbered lists, or rely more on paragraph flow?
2. Tone: This is probably the component most closely resembling what clients mean when they talk about “voice.” This is the feeling readers get as they read the writing–the more “art” than “science” component of the manuscript. But even tone has some standard components to discuss with a client: Should the language be formal or informal? (This relates to the conjunction question, above.) Can you swear, or not? Should things be up-beat, or more somber?
3. Content: This may seem unrelated to voice, but the type of information you convey through a book or piece of writing is a big part of the voice of the author. The content itself matters. You can tell funny, inspiring stories, or stories that scare readers. You can include a lot of research or rely on broad anecdotes. A book about young leaders in politics written by a demographer would contain very different information than one written by a comedian. This component essentially helps determine what they want to say and why.

All of these components combine to make a unique product that the client can point to as wholly their own. Working through these different elements with a client can help to establish the voice up front and make a more seamless process for creating an excellent manuscript.

Capturing a client’s voice is about tuning in to the subtleties of how they express themselves. I usually start with conversations-and listening to them is key- whether in person, on a call, or through recordings, because hearing someone speak naturally tells me so much about their rhythms, turns of phrase, and personality.

I’ll often replay those conversations, noting expressions or patterns that feel distinctly “them.”

If they’ve written before, I’ll study their existing work to pick up tone and style.

If not, I’ll sometimes ask them to write freely, without worrying about structure, just so I can hear their unfiltered voice on the page.

From there, I weave those elements into the writing, always checking back in to make sure it feels authentic. I’ll share drafts early, invite honest feedback, and adjust until the client feels their voice shines through.

It’s a balance: my craft provides the polish and structure, but the soul of the piece always belongs to the client.

My role is to amplify their voice, not replace it.

I actually use a unique device of my own creation: the Voice Spectrum. When I work on a book, I conduct extensive interviews with the author and based on those interviews, I determine where their personality, vocabulary, ideas, and affect fall on five 1-10 scales:

1. Sophisticated———Simple
2. Easygoing———Intense
3. Formal———Casual
4. Serious———Funny
5. Humble———Arrogant

Once I have their scores, I calibrate that to the words and phrases I will and won't use in writing their manuscript. For example, for an author who scores high on Formality, I won't use slang at all. For an author who scores high on Funny and Arrogant, I'll lean into some sly egotism but also into self-deprecation. This is a formal way to manage voice, which often too nebulous and vague.

I try never to forget the single most important rule in ghost writing: it isn’t my book. It’s the author’s. I can give advice. I can say, “We’ll do that if that’s what you want, but before we do I want to tell you what I see as the drawback to that approach. And then I will say what the drawbacks are. But, if the author says, “I hear you. I understand what you say. But I still want to do it my way,” then the author’s way is how we do it. But one thing I try to insist on is that, before the author and I agree to collaborate, we will first talk on Zoom. I do that because chemistry is vital in a ghost writing relationship: do the author and I get along well enough to bring this project to a successful conclusion? (A successful conclusion is one that produces a book agents will want to represent, publishers will want to publish and readers will want to read). And there may be a better way to test that chemistry than talking to someone while looking them in the eye, but I haven’t found it yet. I’ve been ghost writing since 1990 and the development of software like Zoom has enabled me to take on projects I would probably have avoided in earlier days. Sometimes, the Zoom doesn’t go well. If that happens, I don’t say, “No, sorry, you’re not the kind of person I want to work with” – there’s no need to give offence – but I will find a reason to say, “This project may go extremely well but it simply isn’t for me.” A byproduct of the Zoom is that I start hearing how the author speaks. That isn’t the same as how the author would write, but it’s a start. And then I tell the author that we may well write the first chapter or the first two chapters 3 or 4 times before we get it the way the author wants it and that it’s natural we should: the author has her or his own voice and my job is to “get” it. Once I “have” it, the rest of the book usually comes a lot more quickly.

It’s been said that a good ghost writer has no ego. I don’t believe that, because I don’t believe the person without an ego exists. What I do believe is that good ghost writers put their ego to one side when writing someone else’s book – which brings me back to the beginning. It isn’t my book. It’s the authors.

I ghostwrite a lot of memoirs especially. I look for consistent word choice and sentence structure, and listen for specific recurring phrases or mannerisms. Do they say "Gosh," "Oh God," "Oh Lord," or "Oh Lordie" for instance. Do they they say "Mom/Dad," "my mom/my dad," or "my mother/my father." Are they more likely to say "I departed for the airport" or "I left for the airport." Do they create a sentence in brief phrases, like "Too much!" or in a full sentence, "It was too much." In stylizing their writing, they have the option to change anything I write that doesn't adhere to their voice.

Before I do anything else with a client, I work to understand their goals. Knowing what they want to achieve with a project helps me to understand not only their vision, but how they just present themselves to the reader through their voice.

When it comes to a book, or some other type of writing, many clients jump into the project without much thought to the purpose. Sure, they know what they want to do - write a great book, write a great op-ed, start to write more frequently on LinkedIn - but rarely do they have a good sense of why they want to do all these things.

You need to use your writing product for some goal beyond publication. These specific goals can be anything - from increasing revenue to securing new clients to landing a keynote gig. Clients who have a specific target audience for an op-ed (and I mean specific, like one or two potential clients) are usually able to have a much better return on investment than generic brand-building goals.

How do I work with my clients to identify their goals? I use the following questions:

1. What is the core message/idea(s) you want to communicate? What do you want readers to take away from your writing?
2. Why are you the one to communicate these ideas?
3. What is your target audience?
4. What does your core audience want?
5. What are they motivated by?
6. What are they afraid of?
7. What are they used to hearing/reading? Do you want to break that pattern, or fit within it?
8. What are you offering them they can’t get elsewhere?
9. Who are similar leaders you admire and aspire to? How will what you say be similar to what they say? How will it be different?
10. It’s five years in the future and you have achieved everything you wanted to and even more. What does that look like?

These help me identify the more straightforward goals, but also the things the client might not be thinking about. The audience questions, in particular, help identify potential areas that the client may not have thought about - a new group of people to target, or an opportunity they hadn’t considered.

For me, it always begins with listening.

Genuinely listening.

Every client comes with a story, an idea, or even just a spark, and my first priority is to understand not just the project itself but the person behind it.

I’ll ask questions, but more importantly, I’ll give space for people to share what matters to them: their experiences, their goals, and the feeling they want their readers to take away.

From there, I immerse myself in their world. Sometimes it’s through notes, recordings, or conversations; other times it’s through reading what they’ve already written. I pay close attention to the language they naturally use, the rhythm of their storytelling, and the themes they keep coming back to. Those details often reveal the heartbeat of their voice.

I see my role as a collaborator, not a dictator of words. I may bring structure, craft, and experience, but my job is to make sure the finished work sounds like them, not me.

That means checking in, sharing drafts, and refining until we both feel the project is authentic to their vision.

In short: I approach every project with empathy, patience, and respect. It’s their story, its YOUR story-I’m simply here to help them or you tell it in the most powerful, true-to-them way possible.

Interviews, interviews, interviews! The deeper we go in conversation, the more aligned we'll be.

A key part of my process is ensuring I understand your goals for the finished product. You may not even know what you want to do with the your book! Part of my job is to introduce you to the publishing landscape and give you a smorgasbord of options.

When we start writing, there's... Drumroll please... More interviews! Video call interviews allow me to capture the rhythm of your natural speaking voice. They also give me a chance to ask you unexpected questions. Sometimes, the answers you give off-the-cuff become the most honest and authentic parts of the book.

I’ve said elsewhere that, before the author and I agree to collaborate, we first talk on Zoom because chemistry is vital in a ghost writing relationship: do the author and I get along well enough to bring this project to a successful conclusion? (A successful conclusion is one that produces a book agents will want to represent, publishers will want to publish and readers will want to read). I usually start the conversation by asking, “Why do you want to write this book?” That’s a question I genuinely want to know the answer to because it will tell me a lot about the author’s motivations and how likely the author is to give the project the time it needs. (In my experience, the most common reason for a ghost writing project to fail is that the author has not understood just how much time they will have to give the writer. I like to work by sending the author batches of 3000 to 5000 words at a time and then zooming a couple of days later to talk about what the author liked, what the author didn’t like, and what needs to change before going on to what I’m going to write next. I tell authors that, and I suggest that, if zooming with me once or twice a week is going to be difficult, we should probably not take this project forward). One of the things I’m looking for in that first introductory zoom is: do I like this author? Will we be able to work together? But I’m also looking for things that may well not be said. Things to do with the author’s vision. What they are going to want me to write, and whether I’m going to be happy writing it. If I get a negative feeling at that point I will never say, “No, you’re wrong, I don’t agree with your vision,” because I hope I don’t have that level of arrogance – but I will say that I’m sorry but I think there are other ghost writers who would be better suited for this project. Just a few days ago I was talking to someone about a book he wanted to write and I realised that it was a revenge project – he felt he’d been badly mistreated and he wanted to get his side of the story into a form where he could give it to people aware of his history so that they would understand his point of view. I understood that wish completely, and he may well have been entirely right, but I didn’t want to be part of a revenge project. Fortunately, he decided of his own accord that I was not the writer for him and we parted amicably.

Most clients begin to gather quotes for publishing a book and start with the writing, since that's the first step. A ghostwriter will provide a quote for their work required to gather background information, interview the author and related characters, draft chapters, and then edit the chapters for hand-off to the publisher.

From there, the author can choose to work with a one-stop-shop publisher that will handle copyediting, proofreading, cover design, page layout, indexing, printing, and distribution, or they can look for individual professionals who will complete each of those tasks. In that case, each professional will provide a quote for the cost to engage them. The total can range from a few thousand dollars on top of the ghostwriter's quote, to tens of thousands of dollars, depending on any ancillary marketing services you may choose to invest in.

For me, confidentiality isn’t just a professional obligation, it’s a matter of personal integrity.

When someone entrusts me with their story, I see it as exactly that: a gift of trust.

The first step I take is always to make it clear that everything we discuss, whether written down or spoken, stays between us-that includes, surprising as this may seem, given someone is telling me their story that when they say something is 'off the record' (ie) is not to be included in the book, then not only do you acede to their request, you never make use of that information elsewhere-however 'juicy' it might be!

On a practical level, that means keeping files secure, not sharing material without permission, and, where appropriate, putting formal agreements in place.

But beyond the paperwork, it’s about how I conduct myself.

I listen without judgment, respect what’s private, and never forget that I’m being trusted with someone else’s voice, memories, and experiences.

Writers need to feel safe if they’re to be honest on the page. My role is to protect that space & with discretion, care, and the quiet understanding that what’s shared with me is theirs until they decide otherwise.