Steve Levinson spent a decade auditing the systems I ran at Trader Joe's, then endorsed Family Cybersecurity. That is what earned expertise looks like on a page, and why a technical book needs a writer who was in the room.
A realistic novel about a kid harassed online has been written a thousand times and no seven-year-old finishes one. So Jake goes inside the internet, where trolls have caves and algorithms have addresses, and the villain is a machine that…
The most valuable product the firm I worked for ever sold started as two people fixing something on the side because a machine was slow and it bothered them. Nobody asked for it, nobody funded it, and nobody could have…
Halfway through an interview session I stop and ask a question that has nothing to do with the chapter: are we still meeting the goal? That break is the difference between a ghostwriter and a manuscript vendor.
Books die three ways, and none of them involves the draft. The client goes silent. The finished manuscript never comes out. The book publishes and nothing happens. All three were decided in the first conversation.
The best hire I made in thirty-three years produced no story. The resume was accurate, the interview matched it, the background matched the interview, and the work matched all three.
This collection is reconnaissance. I intend to write a novel in every genre, and forty short stories across forty genres was a way of dipping a toe in each one before committing a year to any of them.
For 33 years I worked in enterprise technology, twenty of them running IT at Trader Joe's. Then I wrote 113+ books. Nobody predicts that line, and the pivot is the story. A crooked career is the book.
My father died with a one-bedroom apartment filled floor to ceiling and two full storage units, while being broke. I was three thousand miles away, so I told the apartment manager to donate all of it. Nobody objected, and nobody…
Jules Verne gave Tom Ayrton about thirty pages and never went inside him. Twelve years alone on Tabor Island, marooned as punishment, rescued and reformed and killed off as machinery for somebody else’s adventure. This is his account.
The best job I ever had came from doing unglamorous maintenance work well for somebody who was watching without either of us thinking about it. No application, no resume, no search.
Subscribe to the Substack for new articles, working notes on publishing, and observations from inside the ghostwriting practice. No spam. No sales funnel. Just the work.