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If this case study piqued your interest, hire me to edit, rewrite or even ghostwrite your book. Let me help you tell your side of the story.
Within weeks of going on sale, the book required a second print run, and a third print run soon followed. ​Chris was a big character in Liverpool and a folk hero in certain parts, so people were interested to read the story of his life. I think it's very important that these kinds of experiences are recorded and shared. If people don't tell their first-hand accounts of defining eras, they will be lost forever, depriving future generations of a lot of wisdom and context. ​Everyone has a story to tell and they deserve a chance to share it with the world. Chris's book epitomises that spirit.
Like many people, Chris Munro had loads of great stories to tell but lacked the expertise to turn them into a finished memoir. There's no shame in that; we didn't all go to literature school. That's where a ghostwriter comes in handy.​
Helping a local legend from Liverpool share his life story.
The project began when Chris's publisher asked me to transform his rough collection of stories into a page-turning memoir. With the given material, after an edit and rewrite, the manuscript would be around 20,000 words short, but that didn't derail the project.
I had to edit and rewrite the existing material and find a way to complete the book. This would take all of my experience.
Chris Munro lived through some of Liverpool's defining eras, but he was too busy raising hell to notice. Rising from the city's post-war ashes, Chris gravitated towards a life of crime that proved hard to escape.
Chris was blighted by cancer several times, and he took more knocks than most people could bear, but he fought back every time and dedicated the latter part of his life to charity fundraising.
The varied phases of Chris's life meant he had a lot of stories to tell, but his manuscript only scratched the surface. We needed to dive deeper to get more material for the book.
Fortunately, it didn't define his life. ​Between spells in prison, he rubbed shoulders with notorious gangsters and fun-loving criminals, but he also made a name for himself in the world of football scouting and coaching, spending time with George Best, among others, and he worked on the doors of Liverpool's best-known nightclubs.
I arranged a series of hour-long interviews with Chris, but as we lived at opposite ends of the country, they were conducted by phone and were scheduled to fit his schedule. ​They served two purposes: To add detail and clarity to the existing stories and to gain new material for the book. ​I recorded our exchanges so I could refer to them later, which made the process much more fluid.
This is where the project moved beyond editing and into the tricky arena of ghostwriting, which is an art form in itself. Luckily, I have plenty of experience.
During this process, I was busy editing and rewriting the existing chapters of the book. Chris's writing was a bit rough around the edges, but his voice was clear as day. This meant that, when I stepped in and wrote for him, I had to inhabit his unmistakable tone. This was brought into even sharper focus in the post-interview phase.
When people hear the word 'ghostwriter', they think of the faceless individuals who write books for celebs. But that's not the complete picture. Some books only need a little additional material, and as a writer and editor, I offer a rare style of hybrid ghostwriting where I build upon existing writing.​ That is the service I provided for the existing chapters of Chris's book. However, around 20,000 words needed to be written, which is where the art of ghostwriting came in.
Below, I have included an excerpt that shows how the process works.
When writing on someone else's behalf, I use my observations of their style and tone to imitate their voice. This is done so tactfully that no one can tell where the original words end and my additions begin. There are all sorts of reasons to employ a ghostwriter. In Chris's case, his advanced age made writing a slow process, and he wanted to see his stories published in his lifetime, so ghostwriting helped speed things up.
Chris's manuscript needed a tricky combination of editing, rewriting, and ghostwriting to help it fulfil its potential. Not many editors can offer that service, which is why his publisher turned to me.
Context: Talking about his mother.
The worst and most telling thing she done to me was when I was ten years old and I went to Maghull on a bike with some lads and while there I robbed some apples from an orchard and was taken to Court and fined (ten bob 50p). She told me she was not going to pay it, but I had to pay it myself, I never did. Then one Friday afternoon around 3.30pm one man, one lady came to the school and I was told to go to the Headmaster. These two people took me to the Woolton Vale Remand Home on Menlove Avenue, which closed in disgrace in the 1970s. There, I was deloused and given clothes that were two sizes too big. I as given fish with white sauce which I refused to eat and the lady who took me from school (Miss Tudor) gave me such a hiding with the knife and fork I passed out and was taken to hospital but passed alright and sent back to the remand home. I was there about two days when our Lily (mother’s sister) came up with the money and took me home. My mother just said that will teach you a lesson. My dad never ever got told about that, we were under strict orders not to tell him.
Editor's note: This passage reduces a very harrowing experience to a single throw-away paragraph. It was Chris's first brush with the law, and his mother's reaction to it neatly frames their relationship, so it felt right to dig a little deeper and build upon the existing writing. ​​In one of our interviews, I asked Chris about this episode and got him to go into a bit more detail. Once I had the material I needed, I rewrote the passage and developed it. I also used it to more succinctly introduce his Aunty Lily, who played an important role in his life.
I wasn’t adjusting well to our new life in suburban Huyton, and dad was away at sea again, so I spent a lot of time playing out with other lads in the area. This often led to trouble, but usually nothing outrageous. One day, we decided to ride out to Maghull on our bikes. Maghull was at least forty-five minutes away, which gives you some idea of the kind of freedom I had at that young age. While we were there, I robbed some apples from an orchard; the pettiest of crimes. But, as I made my getaway, the orchard owner caught me and summoned a policeman.
This was my first brush with the law and it wasn’t a pleasant experience. Rather than a warning or a slap on the wrist, I was taken to court and fined ten bob, which is the equivalent of about £20 in today’s money. ​Mum told me I had to pay it myself, and wouldn’t even front the money on the condition that I pay her back. It was, as far as she was concerned, entirely my responsibility. I probably could’ve paid it myself, I had that kind of money at times, but I didn’t pay up. I couldn’t imagine the consequences.
At school one Friday afternoon, I was summoned to the headmaster. The atmosphere in that room was very different to anything I’d ever experienced before. A very serious-looking man and a woman had come to arrest me for not paying my fine. By court order, they took me to the Woolton Vale Remand Home on Menlove Avenue. ​If that name is familiar to you, it’s because Woolton Vale Remand Home is another horrible stain on Liverpool’s history. It closed in disgrace in the 1970s, but not before inflicting grievous harm on generations of Liverpool’s most vulnerable children.
I have no idea if my mum was warned that I would be taken from school that day, or if she only learned about it afterwards, but once again she turned her back on me. This was her coldest shoulder yet. When I arrived at the remand home, I was deloused and given clothes that were two sizes too big. Then, as a courtesy, I was given fish with white sauce, but it smelled rancid so I refused to eat it. At this point, the lady who had taken me from my school, Ms Tudor, gave me such a hiding with the knife and fork that I passed out. She beat me so badly that I was taken to hospital, and I got the feeling I wasn’t the first child from the remand home they’d seen in that condition. But with a wink and a nudge, I was quickly sent back to the remand home to nurse my wounds. ​
If the fine wasn't paid, I would be stuck in the remand home for at least two weeks. I kept expecting my mum to show up with the money, but after several miserable days, nothing materialised. While I waited, I got into a scrap with the cock of the remand home, who thought he could take advantage of the new boy. I gave him such a smack he never came back. Just as I started to lose hope, my Auntie Lily came to the remand home and paid my way out. I never found out if my mum asked Lily to do it or whether she did it off her own back. All I know is that when Lily brought me home, my mum could barely look me in the eye. She just said, “Let that teach you a lesson.”
Mum’s aloofness probably came from a place of shame and embarrassment. She swore us all to secrecy, Dad was never to know. We weren't supposed to tell my dad anything that went on while he was away. Especially where mum and Auntie Lily’s shenanigans were concerned. Lily was married to my dad’s brother, Hughie. Our families were on top of each other a lot of the time, so it was hard to get away with anything, but that didn’t stop them from pushing their luck.
Editor's note: All of the key details from Chris's original paragraph are here, but the rewrite gives much more clarity and puts the episode in the wider context of his life at the time, helping the reader to understand the poor decisions Chris and his mother were making. ​​By building upon the experiences Chris touched upon in his original manuscript, and adding as yet undisclosed episodes, little by little, the 20,000-word shortfall disappeared.